F/F Spanking Story: ‘New Year’s Resolutions that Need Breaking’

I absolutely love Angel’s stories…and I know you will, too…


– Dana


*****
New Year’s Resolutions that Need Breaking
Angel hated New Year’s resolutions, which is why she stopped making them when she was a teenager.  It was also why she avoided Dana’s New Year’s resolution contest.  Even though she was prohibited from winning due to the nature of their personal relationship, she generally liked to enter the contests anyway.  She liked to write and Dana (good naturedly) encouraged her ramblings.  However, she shied away from the game on this occasion.  It hit too close to home.  Even though she couldn’t win, it would likely give Dana some food for thought the next time they saw each other.  Sometimes that was good for Angel.  But sometimes Angel did everything she could to steer clear of things that were good for her.
Ironically, despite not making any official resolutions – Angel was doing remarkably well.  She changed her eating habits.  She was exercising.  She had been motivated and productive and even impressed herself with these little changes.  At least that’s what she told Dana whenever Dana was kind enough to check in on her.  It wasn’t a lie.  It wasn’t even an exaggeration, really. 
The only problem was that she was selectively truthful.  She didn’t tell Dana about the things she did occasionally, like almost getting into a car accident because she refused to defer to another driver – preferring to die, or perhaps commit vehicular manslaughter as opposed to submitting to some idiot tailgating her.  She didn’t tell her about some other choice behaviors she’d rather not mention. It’s not that she was silly enough to believe that good behavior automatically negated the bad, but she was playing this game with herself so that she didn’t have to hold herself accountable when she chose to take some time off from her new healthy routine.  Unfortunately, this created guilt feelings and just kept the cycle – well, cyclic.  But how bad could it be? She’d already lost some weight, her skin was glowing, she learned how to quickly and efficiently eradicate her to-do list, her house was immaculate, she was making preparations to return to school, she was reading, writing, working on her art.  Yes, theoretically none of that mattered if she wasn’t going to live to reap the benefits of it because she’d done some self-destructive thing to sabotage her progress and quite possibly her life… but still.
She didn’t tell Dana all of these things, and Dana didn’t push for details when a little something slipped out in an e-mail but Angel had certainly said enough.  She hoped Dana was merely ignoring these little sporadic confessions as opposed to keeping them stored in her head for the appropriate time.  A couple of thousand miles away was not the right location to have such discussions, so Angel didn’t mind accidentally or even purposefully letting something slip out.  Who knew how long it would be before Dana would be back in NY, anyway?  And by that time she’d probably definitely forget all those little things Angel mentioned.  If Dana forgot, it wasn’t really Angel’s fault for not confessing to anyone that she clearly needed help.  Her half hearted attempt for attention had to count for something.  In the meantime, Angel continued her routine of yo-yo’ing between exemplary behavior and behavior that threatened the foundation of her newfound progress.
But by the time Dana came back in town – that meant Angel was only half a mess.  Since she didn’t have that unfortunate mishap of making those dumb new year’s resolutions, she really had nothing to be accountable for.  At least that’s what she thought.  How was she supposed to know Dana really would remember or that she would find out about her top secret resolution?  Had Angel known that perhaps she would have avoided Dana altogether when she unexpectedly came for a visit, but the part of her that was half a mess didn’t have very good anticipatory skills.
Despite the rather obvious, she didn’t even anticipate being spanked.  She didn’t want to be spanked.  She had gone a little numb and rather didn’t care if she ever got spanked again.  Maybe spanking was stupid.  Maybe it was ineffective.  After-all, with all the spankings Angel had received in her life – she should just about be the embodiment of perfection if spankings had any merit at all.  Clearly, this was not the case.
Angel was very happy to see Dana and met her at the space she was renting for a quick hello.  Dana looked lovely as usual and had on one of those outfits that meant she had either just delivered a stern spanking or was about to.  Angel didn’t think much of it.  She felt that familiar twinge of excitement for a moment (or perhaps two) but not enough to make her crave a spanking.  She was pretty sure at this point she was over it and it was officially useless. 
They spoke for a while, and Angel was extremely careful to mention all of her amazing progress but very deliberately made sure there was no mention of anything she might have done to undermine herself.  That didn’t seem like a good idea now that the distance between them was just a few feet.  Dana, polite and sweet as ever, made sure to offer Angel just about all the praise she could muster – and she meant it, but Angel suddenly felt guilty.  Not guilty enough, however, to remind Dana that maybe she should tone it down a few notches; especially if she considered the tally of not-so-great things Angel confessed in a line or two every couple of e-mails over the course of several months.
After some time talking it was time for Angel to leave, even though she only half wanted to go.  Dana asked her what the big hurry was but Angel was pretty evasive, awkwardly so – and couldn’t quite look Dana in the eye to give her an answer.  She started to squirm and hurriedly put her hat and coat on, fumbling with the zipper as Dana studied her nervous behavior, clearly knowing something was not right but not yet able to put her finger on it.
“Angel, what’s the matter, honey?” Dana asked her, concerned.
Angel shook her head.  She had meant to say “nothing,” but the word got caught in her throat, probably because it was a lie.
Dana was too perceptive for Angel’s good and gently pushed Angel’s hand away from the zipper with a half-scolding, “Stop that,” – which was following by a more stern, “and sit down.”
Angel complied without really thinking about it.  Sometimes she followed anything that sounded directional – whether she wanted to or not.  She was tempted to start with the zipper again but became terribly uncomfortable when she realized Dana was still watching her.  Her heart was jumping a little like a teenager about to be caught with something she shouldn’t have.  As much as she loved Dana, she wanted out of this situation.  “Dana, I have to go,” she finally blurted out.
“Well it can wait a minute, Angel,” Dana firmly told her.  “I can’t let you leave until you tell me what you’re doing.  You don’t look right.”
At that fortuitous moment, Angel’s cell phone rang.  She starred at it for a second, hating the fact that she didn’t put it on vibrate, and also that she never changed the dreaded ringtone.  That would have been a good new year’s resolution to make.  Dana looked at Angel, waiting for her to either answer the phone or silence it.  To her surprise, Angel handed Dana the phone, an act that seemed entirely against her will even though it was her own arm that did the deed.  Instinctively Dana answered Angel’s phone and was quite appalled at the stranger she found herself talking to on the other end.  Angel shrunk a little in her seat and tried to block out what Dana was saying, only she heard the last line with remarkable clarity: “No, she is not going to meet you at the bar and if you contact her again you’re gonna get the spanking of your life.”
Angel was pretty convinced that Dana had just killed her with humiliation, but it turned out she was quite alive when Dana knelt before her and snapped her back into reality with her chilling demand, which she only half tried to disguise as a question.  “Do you want to tell me anything, Miss Angel?”
Angel shook her head again.  This was not a lie.   She did not want to tell Dana anything.  She tried to turn her face away from Dana to avoid having to look at her or speak to her at all, but Dana had this terrible habit of NEVER letting Angel do that and either gently guiding her face back into position or firmly directing her with verbal instructions to do it on her own.  Angel had to be physically coerced this time to turn her head around.  But she still kept her gaze down and her mouth shut until Dana gave her a mild but shocking slap on the front of her thigh.  Angel finally confessed that the foul-mouthed boy Dana had been talking to was someone she just met randomly on the way over and decided to hook up with at a bar later despite knowing what an absolutely terrible idea it was and the clearly sexual agenda that this jerk didn’t go to any great lengths to conceal.  But Angel had secretly had made a resolution to do things completely out of character this year to spice up her life and change things up a bit – THAT she did not let slip out to Dana – accidentally, on purpose or accidentally on purpose.  Yes, she knew there were some boundaries that just shouldn’t be crossed.
Dana’s jaw dropped ever so slightly as Angel made her full confession.  Her pretty blue eyes lit up a little with shock and something that might have resembled a hint of anger, except Angel couldn’t be sure because she was pretty convinced Dana never got angry. 
Dana rose from her position and sat on the bondage bed, which was quite naturally higher than the chair Angel was sitting on – it made her instinctively try to rise to avoid the intimidation. Dana quickly squashed that with a gesture that told Angel to remain seated.  “Why would you do something like this, Angel?” Dana asked, seemingly expecting to get an answer slightly less ridiculous than the one she ended up getting in response.
“It’s hard to say,” Angel replied dumbly, realizing immediately how stupid and provocative it sounded but making absolutely no effort to remedy it.  Not even a little.
This didn’t strike Dana too favorably.  Now she stood back up, making her presence very strong.  “No it isn’t hard to say, Angel.  I’m really disappointed you were going to go to a bar with a very foul-mouthed stranger who was definitely going to try to take advantage of you.  And I didn’t forget those little things you told me in an e-mail.  I also know you didn’t want me to forget them.”  Angel had wanted to say something, anything, to stop Dana before this got out of hand but Dana was now on a kind of mini-rant that Angel didn’t dare try to interfere with.  “So you want to be in trouble, Angel?” she continued, raising her voice a notch and apparently not really expecting an answer.  “You don’t need to convince me you need to be punished.  I’m going to spank the daylights out of you!  Do you have any objections?”
Angel had tons of objections but she was too seized with panic and shock to utter anything intelligible.  She couldn’t open her mouth to explain to Dana that she had decided to abandon spanking.
The room was silent for a moment as Dana took Angel’s hand, guided her off of the armless chair and took the seat herself.  Angel was tempted to run because this could only mean one thing, but her feet were firmly planted on the ground. 
“Take your jacket and hat off and come back on over here,” Dana instructed as she positioned herself comfortably in the chair.  Angel listened. After-all – she sometimes just followed things that were directional, like giving a lewd stranger who was hitting on her her personal cell phone number and agreeing to meet him at the bar.
Dana seemed less than pleased, even though Angel had just done exactly as she was told.  She looked up at Angel who looked pitifully back down at her.  “Those puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work this time, princess,” she informed her.  “This is the last time I am going to ask you.  Do you have any objections?”  Angel was mixed parts frightened, stubborn and confused – which had the unfortunate effect of also making her mute.  She refused to answer Dana.  “Good,” Dana told her, “I’ll take that as a no.  And today must be your lucky day because you know what else I didn’t forget?”  Once again she continued without giving Angel time to respond.  “Your list, Angel.  I didn’t forget your lovely little list of your least favorite ways to be spanked and specifically what makes a spanking punishing to you.”
That was a little horrifying because Angel forgot the list until Dana just mentioned it.  It all came back to her very distinctly as a firm and totally unexpected smack landed squarely across both cheeks.  This made Angel mad, which was really a defense for feeling embarrassed – which in turn led to blatant stupidity as she fought back tears and screamed at Dana that the unexpected smack didn’t hurt.  She went so far as to angrily spit out that Dana couldn’t hurt her with her hand, anyway.
Dana was a little shocked at this, not accustomed to this extremely rebellious and challenging behavior from Angel.  This is not to say she shied away from a challenge, however – especially when the challenge-ee was a fragile little spirit trying to hold her own but going about it in all the wrong ways, in desperate need of guidance and direction.  Dana had to make the split decision on whether or not spanking Angel was the right thing to do in this situation, especially because if she chose to do it – it was not going to be terribly pleasant for either of them.  There was only one way to find out.
“Are you sure you want to talk to me that way, Angel?  Because if you’re sure, it will be a few days before you can sit right again and I assure you I will only use my hand.  You will be perfectly safe but not at all comfortable.”
Angel made some kind of very rude face at Dana, which answered Dana’s question and provoked her into tearing Angel’s pants and underwear down while she still remained standing and planting several extremely hard slaps to her quickly heated, completely exposed, bottom.  Angel bit her lip to fight back tears, utterly mortified and regrettably, in pain.  But she clenched every part of her body as tightly as she could and challenged Dana further with clearly debatable lies.  “It still doesn’t hurt,” she insisted.
“Oh that’s okay, princess,” Dana told her, undeterred.  “We’ll fix that.”  With that, Angel had no idea what happened except that she was staring at the floor, over Dana’s knee with her left hand pinned behind her back.  “I’m pinning your hand down now, honey, to save us both the trouble in a few minutes.  You’re not gonna be able to hold still.”  Dana really believed this and so also wrapped her leg around Angel’s to keep her from thrashing her feet around.  Angel was trying to conceal her panic at being in this position, but her heavy breathing and quivering body betrayed her.  Unfortunately for her, she was too proud to beg.  She had to keep up the façade now.  It was just a hand spanking.  She threatened herself silently to retaliate in some terrible way if she started crying against her will.  She was in mid-threat to herself when Dana took a second to rub her pre-reddened bottom.  This made Angel’s body instantly relax and unwind itself as she went a little limp over Dana’s knee.
“I know you like that, Angel,” Dana told her sternly, “but there’s not gonna be any of that today.  I am really going to punish you.  For the one dumbass resolution you did make that could have ended up with you in a pretty bad situation tonight, and of course for all those little things you had the gall to casually mention in a one-liner, but conveniently decided to leave out during our entire conversation today.”
Angel was caught.  Now she was scared and beginning to realize what she had gotten herself into.  She tested her position, she couldn’t move.  And when she tried a little too hard, she was rewarded with a vicious series of slaps on the lowest portion of the middle of both cheeks, the wonderful “sweet spot.”  That’s really all it took before Angel broke down, a good hard 20 smacks to that one spot and the tears were already pathetically streaming down her face.  After another agonizing 20, she started to beg Dana to stop. 
Much to Angel’s surprise, Dana didn’t.  “It’s just a hand spanking, Angel,” she reassured her in between incredibly hard slaps. “Maybe you think this is a joke, but you’re not going to be laughing for the next couple of days.”  Dana kept spanking her, hard and fast – without any warm-up or slow-down.  It hurt so terribly a paddle might have been more merciful.  Angel was very much regretting her insolent attitude and poor decisions as she squirmed to no avail to try to escape being punished.  Angel really didn’t understand why Dana kept spanking her.  She was already well into crying.  Yes, sometimes the tears were a blatant manipulation attempt to force an early end to a spanking she particularly didn’t feel like taking or sometimes they came from a place of anger before submission – but this time they were real instantly, and Angel was convinced this should have ended her punishment.  Except, it didn’t.  Dana spanked her with relentless passion, at the expense of her very own hand!
Within a few minutes, Angel was crying so hard she couldn’t see and was pretty sure she’d made a puddle on the floor with her own tears.  Her bottom was throbbing, and stinging and experiencing all sorts of pain combinations she didn’t think possible from a single hand-spanking.  She was imploring Dana with a mingled mess of apologies and promises that came in the form of broken sobs and partial screams.  But it was only when Angel stopped crying that Dana stopped spanking.  Angel was in so much pain, however, it must have been a full minute before she even realized she was not being spanked anymore, or that her limbs were free.  Dana rubbed her back a little and instructed her to breathe to prevent her from hyperventilating.  She let Angel up shortly thereafter. Angel found it difficult to rise, so she slid onto the floor instead and landed her head in Dana’s lap, whimpering softly while Dana stroked her hair. 
Angel apologized profusely without ever removing her head from Dana’s lap, but Dana was seemingly unconvinced one spanking was enough to remedy what was really going on here. “Angel,” she warned, sounding serious but not mean and not without continuing to comfort her – “If you make me take you back to Vegas with me, there’s gonna be a whole lot of talking and a WHOLE lot of spanking goin’ on.  But I have a feeling you might benefit from a little extended behavior modification.”  Angel started to cry again until Dana shushed her.  She had no idea if the tears were from fear, relief, gratitude, frustration – or some weird combination of all of them, perhaps more. The one thing she did know is that maybe she needed to be spanked, after-all.  And also, that she was going back to not making ANY New Year’s Resolutions and breaking this one: effective immediately.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘You Count to Us’ : Original F/M Spanking Story



‘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

*****


You Count to Us

Anthony

Shaking his head, he pushed open the glass door and entered the office.

It was a generic space located in a generic strip mall in a bland region of a city that collected and trapped deeds like desert lint on the arms of a saguaro. A cowbell attached the door clanged his entrance into what appeared an otherwise empty room.

Left to his own, he would have found the closest H&R Block out of the many freckling Las Vegas. (He never could understand how tax preparation thrived in a state without a personal income tax). But apparently his wife thought outside the box, or outside the Block as it were. She had insisted he drive the extra half hour to investigate this new place.

The name of the shop was “You Count to Us”. That seemed a bit frivolous for someone he might entrust with income and other personal financial information.

The inner office had two doors leading from the lobby: “Office” and “Preparation”. Preparation? As he stood there, a woman glided from the office. She was youngish with dark hair. Possibly in her late twenties.

To his credit, the extra drive hadn’t dampened his humor. “Honey, is the man of the house…I mean is your boss around?”

She wore a name tag. He stared around a bit in that general vicinity then focused in on the tag: “Dana”

“Are you done staring at my chest?”

He hadn’t expected that. She had spoken so calmly. It was a pleasant voice, but also firm. And she was looking directly at him. Were her eyes blue? He really couldn’t tell. Well, she seemed like a bulldog anyway. He wondered what the owner was like. 

“Your service came highly recommended,” he said. I’m trying to understand the appeal. Is your supervisor around?”

“You’re late,” she said in the same strong, calm voice. “Your appointment was for 2:00pm. That would be twenty minutes ago.”  

“I suppose I should ask why,” she said, “although I rarely find a justifiable reason. And don’t even breathe ‘traffic’ to me. You’re an adult.”

That was enough for him. Who was this woman to talk this way to him? She was young enough to be his child. And what sort of life experience could even justify such an attitude? He turned around to leave the office.

Just as he reached the door, she said softly “You know, I own this establishment. I own others as well. Your wife specifically mentioned punctuality on a rather long list of ‘issues’ that need to be addressed. Get back here.”

What? His wife had mentioned? That made it sound like Della and she had talked. And why would details about him ever arise in that type of conversation?

“Something you don’t realize yet. We don’t do taxes here.” She watched his face and smiled thinly. “I *am* an accountant of sorts. But that’s really only a portion of my work.”

“You understand that if, say, you were caught lying to the IRS, there’d be repercussions. Penalties. If you mismanaged a significant budget or failed to disclose crucial information, or even treated important individuals in a neglectful, flippant, disrespectful manner, you’d expect some sort of consequences. The same should apply in personal situations as well, don’t you think, Thomas?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh, your wife and I had a *long* discussion. It focused on how we might provide some correction and direction in your life. With the emphasis on correction.”

He didn’t much like the way the conversation was turning with this woman, this Dana. But she seemed to know or sense a lot about him. Thanks Della, he thought. And correction? Correction?

“I want to show you something Thomas. Then I have a choice for you.”

She sat down in an oddly old fashioned straight-backed wooden chair at a nearby desk, opened the desk drawer and extracted a sheet of ruled notebook paper with writing on it. It looked vaguely familiar.

“Do you know what this is?”

He looked closer and his cheeks flushed.

“I see you recognize it. Last year’s resolutions, correct?”

He tried to form a cheeky response, appropriate words.

“Answer me, young man.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what it is.”

“Read the first item on your list for me.”

“It was just a joke,” he protested. “Della has a good a sense of humor.”

“Read it for me.”

He looked closer and then mumbled “Play more poker.”

“Louder please”

“I said play more poker”

“So your resolution, that you kindly shared with your wife, was to spend more time away from her, playing cards, gambling, smoking cigars?”

“Look, Dana, here’s the deal. Della thought it was funny. It was just a resolution. And everyone breaks those anyway, right?”

Dana laughed heartily at that, looking up at him as he stood there. “The second item on the list, please.” She raised her eyebrows.

“It was just another joke..wear clean underwear in case of automobile accident. You know, that’s what they always say, right?

“And how well have you followed-up on that one?”

“I think I’m doing just fine. I mean, I’m pretty sure Della might agree with me. She washes all my clothes and has never complained.”

“What’s your waist?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Waist. Your waist size.” 

“Nevermind,” she said, opening a filing cabinet and pulled out a pair of new boxer briefs. They were new, still in the plastic packaging. “These should work.”

She turned back to him. “Thomas, you have two choices.” 

“Your first choice is to turn around and walk right back out that office door. There’s an H&R just down the road. And later you can laugh about this experience with your buddies after you win the pot on a pair of eights or something.”

“The other option,” she continued, “is you’ll grab that *clean* underwear and walk your sweet bottom over to that second door where you’ll also happen to find a shower. You’ll wash yourself thoroughly, put on the briefs and only the briefs, and report back to me here.”

“If you take the second option, we’ll start your spanking shortly. I can see it’s something that’s been sorely missed.” She laughed, adding “I’ll keep it sore, but I promise I won’t miss, Thomas. So, which is it?”

“Spanking? Surely you didn’t say spanking?”

Every neuron is his head was shrieking, pleading with him to spin on his heels and walk out in the most dignified masculine gait he could muster, without a look back.

But another strange thing was happening. Standing there, looking down at Dana and feeling so oddly diminutive (how could this be?), he felt the nerves in his bottom tingling. Completely involuntary. He was afraid of what would happen if he stayed. How would he behave if she followed through on her promise? Could he maintain composure and allow a complete stranger, this woman to have that control over him? 

He fidgeted. She just looked up at him, waiting. Finally, he sighed and lifted his palms in the air.

She pointed to the Preparation room. “Go get cleaned up. You have five minutes. Use soap. Watch the clock. If I have to come retrieve you, we’ll start with the paddle.”

He looked down, avoiding her eyes, and headed toward the door.

“One other thing,” she said as he shuffled away, “Since I’m feeling such closeness to your wife, almost like family, I want you to start addressing me as Aunt Dana from here on. I like the ring of that. Get going!”

When he returned, she checked her watch and nodded approvingly. He felt childish standing in front of her, naked save for the briefs.

Normally a situation like that would have sexual overtones, but instead he felt like a nervous child. He was keenly aware of his love handles, from many fine dinners and excellent wine, aware of the occasional gray hair curling on his chest. And unlike a sexual encounter, it seemed to be having an opposite effect on his vitality than normal, the excitement instead flaring in strong currents through his bottom, in his facial cheeks. 

The strip mall had seemed fairly empty, but there was nothing preventing a passerby from seeing hime exposed this way.

“Oh don’t be shy,” she said. “I’ve given many, many spankings. You won’t care about modesty or other minor issues for long.”

She smiled at him. “Della felt you wanted this, but were too afraid to ask her. Thomas, do you know what I’m going to do to you now?”

He swallowed, then nodded.

“Tell it to your Aunt out loud, young man.”

“You’re, you’re going to…to spank me.”

“Yes, that’s correct.” She held out her hand and gently guided him over her lap as she sat in the wooded chair. His arms supported much of his weight and his bottom was positioned high.

“Aunt Dana is going to give you a sound spanking on your bare bottom. You’ve been a very naughty nephew.” 

Before he could second-guess the situation, she was spanking him rapidly over the briefs with her palm. Over and over her hand connected with his bottom. The immediate heat and pain caused him to gasp and squirm.

“Stop wiggling,” she said.

“Oh f*&#^$” he moaned.

“I said stop wiggling. We’re just getting started, nephew. By the way, I see you’d promised to stop swearing last year. It seems that didn’t take either.”

After a considerable time, he felt her palm stop spanking him and he took several deep, nervous breaths, trying not to focus on the glow in his posterior. Perhaps they were done – that wouldn’t be so bad. More embarrassing than painful.

“Thomas, you’ve been so long without correction,” she said. He felt her fingers under the elastic in his waistband, sliding the thin cotton slowing over his tender globes. He felt her hand resting on his soreness, lightly stroking both bottom cheeks in turn.

The hand left, uh oh, then splat! She was spanking him hard on his bare, unprotected bottom and that stung like the devil. He wanted to swear at her, to hate her for inflicting this pain on him, but something else was feeling right. It was feeling well deserved. And for several moments he imagined it was Della, not Dana, spanking him, punishing him for his misdeeds.

“Oh, Della, I mean Aunt Dana, please stop spanking my bare bottom. Oh, that hurts so much. Please stop.”

Her hand kept coming with its relentless heat and impact, again and again as he squirmed. “Hold still, Thomas.”

She said, “Della and I decided that today you’d be spanked for the broken resolutions, but we’ve both decided you’ll be visiting your Aunt much more this coming year.” 

“For that correction you sorely…” She spanked him hard, in rapid succession on the same spot, “and I’ mean *sorely* need,”.

Dana laughed with just the slightest twinge of sympathy for his condition and continued without a hitch.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Premium Video: ‘The POV Lecture Series’



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:


–  Doctor/Patient  –


You’re back for your thirty day checkup, and things are NOT looking good. It’s obvious that you are completely ignoring the fitness regimen set forth at your last appointment.


I have no choice but to begin a new treatment program – including regular spankings, ‘old fashioned’ temperature-taking…


..and even harsher measures, if you refuse to comply.


Enjoy the screengrabs, and click the link below to order ‘The POV Lecture Series: Doctor/Patient’ :


As always, I’m interested in your comments, questions, and suggestions. Feel free to email me.    – Dana

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

Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Five



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

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

F/M Spanking Story: ‘Dana Kane’s Weight Loss Program’

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

*****


Dana Kane’s Weight Loss Program



December 31, 2011, I begin my daily routine before my morning shower as I do most mornings during the year by stepping on the bathroom scale. 250 lbs.  Another year, and another broken New Year’s resolution.  I started the year at 245, determined to get to 210 by the end of the year.  I started out OK, but then slipped into my old tired routine.  Too much pasta, deserts and adult beverages makes weight loss impossible.  Broke even until the holidays hit and made too much merry and packed on another five pounds.   Oh well, just add another 5 pounds and make my goal for 2012, 40 pounds.  Symbolic since I will be celebrating my 40th Birthday this coming year.
New Year’s Day, and surfing the web for a sure fire weight loss program.  I’ve tried most of the nationally advertised programs to no avail, so this year I’ve got to find something unique that will work for me.  Then I saw it, individualized weight loss program led by personal councilor Dana Kane.  The advertisement looks to be just what I’m looking for, a personalized program based on my individual needs based on trust and honesty.  100% of those accepted to the program lose weight and 90% meet their weight loss goal for the year.  There is a seminar this coming Saturday, January 8 in my home town Las Vegas to further explain the program.   
Ms. Kane greets us as we enter the free seminar.  I’m struck by her beauty, charm and her overall athletic build.  “Well at least she practices what she teaches”, I thought, “what a knockout.”  The seminar begins and Ms. Kane introduces her program.  She gives tips on what foods to eat and what to stay away from.  She preached a philosophy of moderation, “you have to eat smaller meals that include healthy foods and moderate exercise.  It is OK to have an occasional drink but four beer nights with greasy appetizers at the neighborhood Sports Bar are out.”  Ms. Kane explains that 90% of those that make a resolution of weight loss do not fulfill their goal.  This is because they lack two basic aspects to making a successful life change; honesty and discipline.  That is why her program although somewhat pricey succeeds, “it introduces these two essential ingredients.”  
“Well in certainly works for Ms. Kane”, I thought, “where do I sign up.”  Ms. Kane then handed out applications and explained the next step.  “After I review your applications, those that make the first cut will be called for a personal consult.  Although I would like to accept everyone, I only have so much time and can only accept those that I’m confident will comply with my program.”  I quickly filled out the application and handed it to Ms. Kane.  “Please Ms. Kane, I hope that your accept me, I’ve tried everything and I think you may be my last hope.”  She sweetly smiled and said, “We’ll see, but you should also be careful about what you wish for, it is not easy.”
“Thank you for your consideration”, I answered and left the seminar.
I was on pins and needles the next three days and was beginning to lose hope.  But on Wednesday, I received a call from Ms. Kane.  “Well Craig, you made the first cut.  Your appointed time will be 10:00 AM on Saturday morning.  Don’t be late.  The next step is to completely explain all aspects of my program, you are under no obligation, after which you can decide whether you want to join my program and I can decide whether you will be accepted.” 
On Saturday morning I was greeted with a smile and warm “good morning Craig” at Ms. Kane’s private home at 10:00 AM sharp.  “Let’s sit down and I can explain the program in more detail.  Ms. Kane proceeded to explain the various aspects of the program; a reasonably strict diet modeled to my individual weight loss needs, an exercise program that also addresses my problem areas that Ms. Kane will determine after an examination, weight loss goals for each week of the program and the keeping of a log listing the times and items comprising meals, snacks eaten and exercise activities.  Although these comprise most programs, Ms. Kane explained, her program is much more successful because she includes both discipline and honesty.  “I insist that you are completely honest with yourself and me.  I also will administer spankings when goals are not met or you do not comply with the program.”
I couldn’t believe my ears, “did you say spannnnkinggs” I stammered.  
“Yes”, Ms. Kane answered matter of factly, “I find that this method is most effective in keeping you on track.  After a few trips across my knee, everyone seems a lot more motivated.  Have you ever been spanked?” 
“Yes, but only as a child,” I answered.
“Did it work in modifying your behavior?” Ms. Kane asked. 
“Well yes”, then I started my way down a slippery slope of lies when I added, “but I hated it, and never thought of being spanked as an adult.”  This was blatantly untrue.  I had fanaticized for years about being taken across the knees of a strict beautiful woman.  At that moment I thought that I must have won the lottery, here before me was the disciplinarian of my dreams discussing my deepest secret desire.  But at that moment I fell back into the pattern of my life, I thought “what would she think if I told her my desire.  I want her to believe I’m a macho man in my prime.”  I also thought if she knew that I wanted something that she used as a penalty for not following the program, I would never be admitted.  
“That is true of many that are in my program, but it works, if you don’t want to continue I completely understand,” Ms. Kane answered.
“Well I really need to lose weight, so I’m in, besides if it works you won’t be spanking me.”
“That is true, except for the first day.  Today, if you have decided to continue you will receive your first spanking.  It won’t be as hard a spanking as you will receive if you do not meet my programs goals, but hard enough for you to understand what you are getting yourself into and for me to determine if you can continue in the program.  So now take off all of your clothes for your first weigh in and spanking.”  Ms. Kane stated.  
I slowly got up and began taking off all of my clothing as requested.  I stepped on the scale, 250, the same as I was at the end of 2011.  Ms. Kane began her examination, she looked over every inch of my body, pinched and felt my various problem areas and then gave her assessment.  “You don’t have any particular problem area, it is a whole body problem.  So with some moderate exercise, walking, sit-ups, exercise bike, stair-master and diet you should be in pretty good shape in about six months.  Your goal will be to lose 40 pounds in 26 weeks, 2 pounds a week for 14 weeks and 1 lb a week the last 12 weeks.  So next week your goal will be 248 lbs.  Now it is time for your first spanking, come lay across my knees.”
I quickly obliged, and settled in quite nicely.  “I normally start with a warm up, and since your goal is 40 pounds and your age is 40, I would say 40 is your magic number” Ms. Kane stated.  She then started spanking with her hand.  It hurt much more than I anticipated from a woman of Ms. Kane’s size.  By 40 my backside was stinging.  She then put on the Leather Spanking Buddy.  Before she began again she stated, “I don’t know what hurts worse your bottom or my hand.  We will take care of that for now on, with this spanking buddy”.  She then slowly spanked my bottom with the spanking buddy, alternating between cheeks.  I was in heaven but did not dare let on, so I started squirming and moaning lightly.  “Be still we have hardly started”, as she tightened her grip.  “Now that we are done with your warm up, we will really get down to business.”  With that she picked up and showed me the 18” long wooden paddle she was about to use.  At 20 strokes I was moaning for real and squirming harder.  “I said be still, this may be it for you if you don’t behave.”  I quickly complied as she administered the last 20 strokes.  She put down the paddle and stated, “now go stand in the corner and think about your past behavior that got you into the shape you are in and whether you want to continue.  There will be no touching and if you dare take your nose out of the corner you will be dismissed.”
She then left the room for what felt like an hour but probably was only for about 15 minutes.  She returned to see me dutifully in the corner, hands at my sides and nose against the wall.  “Do you want to continue she stated.”  “Yes Ms. Kane”, I answered.  “Then bend over this chair put your hands on the chair and get your last strokes with my strap.  Keep your hands on the chair, or we will have to begin the 40 count from the start.”  She then administered 40 hard blows with the strap.  I was crying by the end but managed to take the strokes in the required position and only moved from foot to foot.  “OK, all done she stated, now get on your clothes and we can talk some more.”
I slowly put on my clothes, thinking I don’t ever want to go through that again, but in a few minutes I was secretly desiring even more.  I sat down with Ms. Kane and we had a heart to heart talk.  I was honest with my problems with my weight throughout the years, my binge eating and other issues; laziness, sloppiness.  She listened intently and at the end stated, “well you look sincere so I’m willing to accept you, do you want to continue.”
“Yes Ms. Kane, and your introduction will be a reminder of what will happen if I don’t stay true to your program.  I’ll do anything to keep from having a repeat performance,” I lied.  What I was thinking was, “I can’t wait to be turned over your luscious thighs again!”
So the next week, I did everything wrong, overate, ate lots of pasta and carbs, drank beer every night and did no exercise.  I compounded my deception by putting together a fake log, documenting exercise I did not do and a diet I did not follow.  I was resolved to get my first punishment spanking of my fantasies.  
I was a little nervous when I went to Ms. Kane’s house the next Saturday, but excited in my anticipation for the spanking of my life.  We began with some discussion about the previous week.  “It was tough on me all week, but I followed your program to the letter last week,” I confidently stated.  “Let’s see the results, strip off all of your clothes and step on the scale” Ms. Kane said.  I quickly did as I was told, and stepped on the scale, 253.  I feigned surprise, “there must be something wrong with your scale, I followed the program to the letter.”
“To the letter, who do you think you’re dealing with, I can tell just by looking at you, everything you told me today was a lie, now get over my knee.”  I quickly complied, my plan was unfolding just as anticipated.  “There’s no warm up for liars”, Ms. Kane sternly stated, and started spanking me with her 16 inch paddle.  My bottom was completely unprepared for this attack, I started counting to myself and when 41 strokes were I applied, I figured out I was in big trouble.  I cried out “I’m sorry Ms. Kane, it must be my metabolism, maybe my body just doesn’t react normally.  Ms. Kane stopped for a few seconds, “I thought it was my scale, you liar, do you have a third theory,” and then quickened her pace and ferocity.  At about the 80th stroke, I started to cry, “I’m sorry Ms. Kane, I don’t know what happened,” I wailed.  This was ignored, and was just met with further strokes, by about 150 she stopped.
“Are you ready yet to tell me the truth,” she said.  “You’re right Ms. Kane, I did have a few beers and did not exercise as much as I stated, but I tried my best.”  She did not answer, but placed the strap in front of my nose, before resuming my spanking.  Again, I was totally unprepared for what followed, but I was resolved to keep my secret, how could I admit to what I’d done now, “it was my story and I was sticking to it.”  After about 40 strokes, I was again crying and begging for mercy, by about 100 I was a complete mess and shaking uncontrollably.  At around 120 she stopped, and I just cried over her lap.  My cries became less pronounced when she said, “get up and get into the corner, think long and hard about your behavior the last week and what you told me today.  After you have some time to reflect, I’m going to complete your punishment and then you will be dismissed from my program.  I have many sincere people that can take your spot.”
I did as I was told, and went into the corner still determined to keep my secret.  “Well at least I know what a real spanking is like”, I thought. 
About 15 minutes later, I heard Ms. Kane enter the room, “Let’s get this over with, I don’t have any more time to waste on you, bend over the chair, and hold the seat tightly with your hands, this won’t be anything you have experienced before.”  She then held the cane in front of my face, “look at me,” as I did she said, “I’m going to give your 40 strokes as a going away remembrance as to what happens to liars in my program.  You will count each one and if you put your hands away from the chair, we will start over.”
She went behind me, and I heard a swish in the air, it landed and I jumped up as it pierced my flesh.  “What did I say, now hold on and I will start again.” One, I held on tightly, the strokes came steadily about five seconds across, by 20 I was wailing and crying how sorry I was, by 30, I completely broke down.  “You were right Ms. Kane, I lied to you, it has been all lies from the beginning, I just could not admit that I wanted you to spank me, please let me stay in the program, I’ll never lie to you again.”  Ms. Kane stopped and walked in front of me, “keep your hands on the chair but look at me,” she said.  Then stared into my eyes, “do you think for one minute that I did not know what you were up to.  I just had to play out your little ruse to teach you a lesson about honesty.  You’ve taken your first step.  Now let’s take your last 10 strokes and see where we go from here.”
She walked behind me, the last 10 were with the same force as the previous 30 and again I was left as a blubbery mess.  “You can get up now”, she said, as I did she sat down and said, “now back over my knee.”  I couldn’t believe I was going to get spanked more but complied.  To my relief all she did was gently rub my bottom as I continued to cry and said in a soothing voice.  “It’s OK, were all done for now, just relax and we will talk later.  After about five minutes, she said, “time to get up and get dressed.”
I slowly picked myself off of Ms. Kane’s lap and got dressed.  I looked up and saw her on the couch, she patted the cushion for me to sit down.  I sat down next to her and immediately put my head on her shoulder and began to weep.  “I’m so sooorrrrry about everything, I’ve been lying my whole life, I didn’t want you to think of me as less than a man,” I stammered.  
“You are so silly, of course I don’t think less of you, I have many friends that are just like you, many that I spank on a recurring basis.  Your shame is that you have been lying all these years to the women in your life, to me, but most of all to yourself.  But today I think that you have turned a corner, and you can now move forward in your life.” Ms. Kane replied.
“Thank you Ms. Kane, can I please stay in the program?”, I asked.
Ms. Kane answered “that depends on the following conditions.  First there is no more lying, one more lie and you’re out.  Second, this spanking today was the penalty for not making your weight loss goals as part of the program.  You will have to be back here on Wednesday at 7:00 PM for a punishment spanking for lying.  Third, you will have to catch up with your weight loss targets starting next Saturday, you will still be given motivational spankings like the one today for not complying with the program, and fourth and finally, for you I will introduce reward spankings that will be relatively mild spankings each Saturday that you meet your goals.  If you agree to those you may continue.”
“Thank you Ms. Kane for giving me another chance, I’ll see you on Wednesday,” I answered.  With that Ms. Kane stood and I stood.  She hugged me and I left for the day.
My entire mind set changed from that day forward.  I feared punishment spankings and worked my hardest to avoid them.  I met with Ms. Kane on the appointed Wednesday evening.  It was a business like meeting.  I had misbehaved by lying and I was to be punished for it by receiving a hard and thorough spanking.  I took off my clothing, placed OTK given a warm-up, 40 with the hand and 40 with the “buddy”, 40 with the paddle and 40 with the strap and into the corner.  A new wrinkle was introduced, after about 5 minutes, Ms. Kane came over and asked me to open my mouth.  She then placed a bar of soap in it for a full minute, to “wash the lies from my mouth for good”.  It tasted awful but emphasized why I was being punished and gave me another memory for any other time I was tempted to repeat this offense.  Finally I was taken out of the corner, bent of the chair and given 40 with the cane.  Although not as severe as the spanking four days before, it hurt more due to the tenderness of my bottom.  Of course I cried my eyes out, but afterwards given a hug and forgiveness from Ms. Kane.  I felt reborn after that evening.
The first week, I worked what little I had left of my bottom and met the goal for the week.  The reward spanking I was given was 40 with the hand and 40 with the “buddy” after which I was glowing.  I met the goals for every week except for one, where I overate and didn’t exercise.  I was punished but did not compound my offense by lying on my log.  It was clear to both me and Ms. Kane why I did not meet my goal that week. 
After 6 months with the program I met my goal of losing 40 lbs.  I continue to see Ms. Kane once a month for maintenance.  If I go over my weight of 220, I am punished.  We have also began working on my other misbehaviors, being lazy and sloppy.  The same behavior modification program used for my weight has worked wonders for my other personal flaws.  I’m a much better person because of Ms. Kane’s unique program.  But the most important improvement is that I no longer lie, and know what is in store for me if I do.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Gambling Resolution: F/M Spanking Story

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

*****


This year I know I can do it, no more gambling! Still I don’t know whats wrong with putting a couple of bucks on a horse or betting on a football game, at least it makes it more interesting to watch. But no, the old lady says

“you’re not putting us in the poorhouse again! If you make another bet there will consequences and I mean severe consequences!”

So I used to have a problem, bet a little too much, maybe lost the rent money once or twice. That is no reason to put me through this. You see I got a little taste of what those consequences were going to be. Who knew that there were traveling disciplinarians and one of them came to our town. Damn internet! My wife is always on the thing looking for ways to make my life miserable and she sure succeeded this time! Last week she told me that we had an appointment on Thursday night and if I knew what was good for me I would be there.
We pulled up to this nondescript building with one lone beckoning light. The knock on the door was answered by this dark haired lady, not bad to look at, who invited us in. What the heck, nice looking lady, short skirt, what’s not to like. After the two women conferred I was asked to sit across from the woman who said her name was Ms. Kane and that she had been consulted to help me with my little problem. Being as she was living in Las Vegas, she knew all about the evils of gambling and how it could ruin relationships and even worse lead to suicide. Yea,Yea, Yea, this women probably never made a bet in her life, what did she know, what could she teach me?

Boy did I find out.

All you regular followers of Ms. Kane know what happens next, but I didn’t have a clue. Get up, take off your clothes bend over my knee, are you kidding me? I’m outta here!

“You leave now, then you just keep on going. I want you to know how serious I am this time about you quitting. You are going to get a taste of what is in store for you if you screw up! And tomorrow night I’m coming back as Ms Kane was nice enough to offer to teach me how to keep you in line!”



Well here it is January 1st and I still have some red marks but betting on all those bowl games……

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

Stats on ‘The Other Stuff’ Survey



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

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

‘Lingerie OTK’ New Dana Kane premium F/M spanking video


‘Lingerie OTK’


It has been quite some time since I was able to spank him without having to give some sort of lecture in the process, but he’s been very well-behaved of late.


This spanking is for pleasure…mine, and his. It is a long, slow, intimate bare-hand OTK, filled with the whisperings of sweet nothings..  


I enjoy taking my time, manipulating his flesh with my palms and fingernails..


It’s still a hard spanking – but we like it that way.


Enjoy the screen grabs, and click the link below to purchase the 11+minute video:

http://clips4sale.com/50197



This final photo, captured after we’d ended the spanking, but before turning off the camera, is not a part of the video and was not staged. I thought you may enjoy it, all the same. We did.   – Dana


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

‘Snuffing out a Bad Habit’ F/M spanking fiction – A Must-Read!



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!

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

New ‘Product Testing with Dana Kane’ F/M spanking video



Product Testing with Dana Kane: Purple Heart Bottom Burner




This little paddle packs some serious heat! To watch the free video, follow the link below:

 
 


(And thanks again to my friends at Cane-iac for constructing such fearsome implements!)


As always, please take a moment to come back here and let me know what you think.   –  Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Excellent F/M Spanking Story

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

*****


I Broke My New Year’s Resolution

I made a resolution to lose some weight.   You see, I am overweight and slightly obese, and I want to correct that.  I have tried almost everything, and nothing has worked.  So I made a New Year’s resolution to eat healthier foods, stay away from fast food restaurants, and exercise.

During the first three weeks of January everything went really well.  I bought a membership at a nearby gym, and was exercising at least four days a week.  I found two grocery stores that sold a lot of organic food, and I stayed away from the fast food chain restaurants.  It was a little more work preparing my own meals, but it seemed worth it.  I was also eating more vegetables and I cut down my serving sizes, and losing weight.  This made me look better, feel better, and have more stamina. 

But once February started, a lot of things changed in my life.  I work at a job where there is no overtime, and you need to complete jobs by at certain date.  This meant I was working late, and I had no time to prepare my own meals or exercise.  By the time I got home from work, I was totally exhausted.  So most of the time when I stayed late at work, I drove up to the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant to get some quick food.  Since it was later when I got off work, I also super-sized my food order, so I had more to eat.

When the end of February came about, I was surprised because I had actually gained twenty pounds.  Also, since I was working long hours, I no longer was taking time to exercise or go to the grocery store.  The stress at work was getting stronger and I was gaining more weight.

Now I had to find a way to stop the downward trend in my health.  I have found that the best way to solve a problem like this was to consult my doctor, since I had tried a lot of different methods to lose weight.  For me, as a guy, I have a different situation with my doctor.  I have a female doctor because she tends to listen better to my problems, and has helped me thru major illnesses in the past.

Anyway, I told her my problem and asked her for any suggestions.

“Your problem seems to deal more with having the correct motivation to lose weight than anything else.  I know someone that uses some unusual methods to motivate you, and she has gotten very good results for my other patients.  Are you interested?”

“Yes,” I said.  “I need a way to correct my weight problem.”

“If you see her, you need to follow her strict rules, but she would provide you with the proper motivation you need.”

So my doctor gave me her phone number and I set up a weekend appointment with her.  Since I was working late every night, it was great she was willing to see me on a Saturday afternoon.   When I drove to the appointment with her, I was surprised.  It was a nice little house in the suburbs.  Since I wasn’t sure that I was at the correct place, I called her up on my cell phone.

“Yes, I see your car in front of my house,” she said.  “Go ahead and park in the driveway, then walk into my living room without knocking or ringing the doorbell.  It will be nice to meet with you and work with you Steve.”

There were many things that were unusual with this therapist, besides her operating out of her house in the suburbs.  First, she simply called herself Dr. Sue.  That was the way she wanted at be addressed at all times.  Second, my health insurance company would not pay for her treatments. So I had to bring a cash payment.  Third, she could almost guarantee that her treatments would solve my weight problem, if I saw her every week for at least six weeks.  I would decide if this treatment would work for me during my first visit to her. Fourth, that I had to follow all of her rules, and I would be held accountable for my actions.  As I said, all of this sounded a little weird and unusual, but if I could lose weight, it was worth it.


(Click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story)


After I walked into her living room, she offered me something to drink, and had me relax on the couch.  Dr. Sue then sat on a large chair, next to the couch.  She had me describe my problem using all of the small details I could think of.

Then she said, “I know that my methods are very effective in helping you out with your weight problem, so I think you will be pleased.  I have worked with many other people to help them lose weight.  What will happen every week is that you will discuss your progress with your weight loss.  Then after I weigh you, I will use my therapy to make sure you stay motivated.”

“What does your therapy involve?” I asked.

“After you weigh in, we will calculate how long the therapy will last.  Then I will take you into my ‘Motivational Room’ and you will receive corporal punishment,” Dr. Sue said.

“Corporal punishment?  Like a spanking?”  I asked.

“Yes, I will always start you out with a hand spanking, and then use paddles and maybe even the cane.  It seems like a drastic measure, but it does give you the proper motivation to lose weight.  You told me that nothing else has worked for you, and I can almost guarantee you that you will lose weight.  This first session will last almost an hour.”

“So I have to allow you to spank me every week?” I asked.

“If you really want to lose weight, you need to accept a spanking every week.  This will last at least six weeks and maybe more.  So are you ready to start right now?”

“Well I really want to lose weight, so I will give it a try,” I said.

“That’s a smart decision that you made.  My ‘Motivation Room’ is downstairs, so follow me.”

I followed Dr. Sue down a wide carpeted staircase to the basement.  Then we went through this heavy door into somewhat a large carpeted room.  On the walls were various paddles, whips, ropes, and other stuff.  In the middle of the room was wooden furniture that I hadn’t seen before.

Dr. Sue sat on an old fashion armless wooden chair and said, “For this to work the most effectively, I expect you to follow all of my instructions without question, and follow my every command.  Can you do that for me?”

“I guess so,” I said.  I didn’t know what to expect.

“To start with, strip down to just your underpants.  Fold everything and place them on that table in the corner.  Then stand in front of me with your hands behind you.”

I felt weird taking off my clothes, in front of a woman who I had just met.  As I was folding my clothes, Dr. Sue put a small weight scale on the floor in front of her.  She also had a clipboard.
“I will always weigh you with little or no clothes, so step on the scale.  Okay.  We have your starting weight.  Now let me measure you.”

She took some measurements, and wrote everything on some papers on her clipboard. “Put the scale, measuring tape and clipboard on the table with your clothes, and stand in front of me with your hands behind you.”

I did so and stood in front of her again.  “A good spanking works the best on the bare skin, so hold still.”  Next, to my surprise, I felt her fingertips in the waistband of my undershorts, and soon they were at my ankles.  Now I was very aware of her perfume and her authoritative voice.

“Now step out of your undershorts and spread your legs.”  I felt so embarrassed and humiliated like this.  “Turn around so I can see your bottom that I will be spanking.”  Then I felt her hands on my naked bottom.  “You have a nice big bottom that I will enjoy spanking.  Turn around again and lay over my lap.”

Now I became very aware of what Dr. Sue was wearing.  She had on a white blouse and a short black tight skirt.  As she pulled up her skirt, I could see that she was wearing nylons, and they were connected to a black garter belt.  I could also see that she was wearing some very pink panties.  Now I became mindful that my naked body would be lying over her partially naked upper thighs.

“Don’t have me tell you again to lay over my lap.  Do it now,” Dr. Sue said.  I did so and then felt her thighs squeeze together, to hold me in place.  Now I was also aware of the warmth of her body, as well as her nice perfume again. “When you lay over my lap, always spread your legs so I can spank your upper inner thighs.”   Following her orders, I immediately spread my legs.  “Good.  You are obeying me nicely.  Now your hand spanking will begin.”

I couldn’t believe that I had consented to a spanking, especially being spanked naked, over a woman’s lap.  I could tell she had spanked many men before because her hand really did sting my poor naked bottom, and her long fingers wrapped around and spanked me in my tender spots.

As she continued spanking me she said, “Be sure you arrive to every appointment on time, otherwise you will receive an even longer spanking.”

“Yes, Dr. Sue,” I quickly replied.

“Now stand up and I will guide you to your next spanking position.”  I followed her to a padded wooden horse.  She pulled a leather paddle that was shaped like a Ping-Pong paddle from the wall.  “Since this is your first spanking, I will take it easy with you.  So spread your legs and bend over this sawhorse.  Hold on to the bottom of the wooden legs.”

This put my already spanked bottom high up in the air.  With my head near the floor, I could see her shiny black leather boots, and that she was standing beside me.  Then my spanking started again.  This time this leather paddle really stung my naked bottom.

“Ouch!  That really hurts!” I said.

“It is supposed to.  This therapy should help motivate you to lose weight.”

“It is motivating me already.”  Now I felt a nice warm glow to my whole lower body.  Although I was still feeling the sting of the paddle, this warm glow was a different feeling for me.

“You will receive a spanking like this, or even more severe, until you reach and stay at your desired weight.”

“You have spanked me enough.  You are motivating me,” I exclaimed.

“We aren’t finished quite yet.  Stand up.  For today, you will have one other position and one other paddle.”  Dr. Sue hung up the leather paddle and picked up a long, wide wooden paddle with large holes in it.  “Now you be spanked over this.”

What I saw was a wooden devise that had two spread apart pieces of wood for your feet.  In the middle was a padded piece of wood to bend over it.  In front of it, there were two handle.  “Stand on the wood slats, bend over it and grab onto the two handles.”

I did so and it made me feel like my already poor spanked bottom was totally exposed.  “What I like about this device, is I can adjust it,” she said.  Then she moved the handles so that they were a bit lower and further out in front of me.  “I find this position is very effective with this paddle.  I will six swats from this paddle.  I want you to count these and say ‘Thank you, Dr. Sue’ after each swat.  If you forget to count or move out of position, then that swat does not count.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dr. Sue.  I am glad this is the last paddle.  I didn’t think a spanking would be this painful.”

“Remember to count and thank me.  Here comes the first swat.”

It seemed like a long time then, SWAT!  It really stung my poor bottom.  I reacted by standing up and grabbing my bottom.

“Since you stood up and forgot to count, that swat will not count.  Bend over again,” Dr. Sue said.

So I reluctantly bent over and grabbed the wooden handles.

SWAT!

“One.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

“Good!  You stayed bent over and you counted.”

SWAT!

“Two.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

“Now do you think you are motivated enough to lose weight?” she asked.

“Yes, Dr. Sue.”

SWAT!

“Three.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

“I will expect to see you here every week and on time.”

“Yes, Dr. Sue.”

SWAT!

“Four.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

SWAT!

“Five.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”

“This is the last swat, unless you forget to count or you stand up.”  

SWAT!

“Six.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

“Now stay in position and I will rub some soothing lotion on your poor spanked bottom.”  The lotion felt very good and she also rubbed it on my tender upper, inner thighs that were spanked.

“You can get dressed now.  If it works for you, I will see you again on Saturday, at this same time.”

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

New premium Dana Kane spanking video: ‘Dirty Little Pervert’


‘Dirty Little Pervert’

After repeated warnings about his fresh behavior (grabbing my bottom!), I was left with no other choice than to paddle him hard this morning.

But even before the marks from that paddling had healed, he was at it again. Twice more he attempted to grab my bottom as I walked by. 

What follows is exactly what he deserved.


On top of an already hard-paddled bottom, twenty-four strokes of the cane…


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!



Watch the video  here: 


Your feedback is always welcome. Please email me: DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Resolution Story

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

*****


After 20 years of all out gluttony, lack of exercise, and general neglect of himself, John finally decided to clean up his act. On New Year’s Eve 2011, he resolved to finally stop eating junk food like McDonalds and pizza three times a day, and to start eating healthier and exercising. His motivation wasn’t purely for health reasons. He had fallen madly in love, from afar, with his new neighbor across the street, Teresa, who was a personal fitness trainer. Teresa was a beautiful, shapely, and sculpted brunette, about 5’6″, and 120 lbs, with gorgeous brown eyes, and a fierce smile. She had moved into the house across the street about three months ago, and set up her fitness studio there.
John had seen Teresa running through the neighborhood on several occasions, and he was taken with her immense beauty, strength, and speed. He started watching her through his window or out in the neighborhood whenever he had the chance. One day in mid-December, the unthinkable happened. John was at his mailbox at the end of the driveway, when Teresa jogged past him, at the conclusion of her afternoon run. She actually smiled and said hello to John. He was speechless. He could barely manage a nod and a lackluster ‘hi” in return. Teresa merely smiled back at him and walked up her driveway and went in her house. John was disgusted with himself. He knew he had blown a golden opportunity to meet her. But he had no confidence in himself. He believed deep down inside that a woman like him could never like an over weight, out of shape slob like him.
John made it through the Christmas season as he usually did, eating his way through it. On New Years Eve, he watched Teresa through his front window get into her car and drive off, presumably to a party. She was dressed in a tight black sexy cocktail dress with 6 inch stiletto heels. His heart sank with jealousy for the man who would be with her that night.
Then the thought struck him, why couldn’t John be that man? He just has to work out hard and eat right, and he could have a girl like Teresa, so he thought. Thus John resolved to get in shape. The next day, New Year’s Day in fact, he joined a gym, and he also joined weight watchers. And he slowly worked a program of daily exercise and healthy eating. No more McDonalds runs at midnight, nor Manager’s Specials at Dunkin Doughnuts for breakfast. John managed to keep this up for a few weeks, and the results began to show. He lost a few pounds, and his physical endurance began to improve. He maintained his motivation by watching Teresa whenever she was running around the neighborhood. But John was still too unconfident to speak with her.
After a few more weeks of progress, he decided to start running outside in his neighborhood, hoping he might see Teresa. He began a daily routine of running 2 miles every afternoon. On the third day of his new routine, as he was running with his Ipod blasting AC/DC, Teresa ran past him on the road. She winked and smiled at him as she blew past. This took John completely by surprise, but her smile caused a surge of adrenalin to course through him, and he quickly tried to catch up with her. But it was impossible, as she was much too fast for him. Luckily, Teresa had passed him near their neighborhood. When John turned the corner onto their street, he saw her, warming down and stretching at the end of her driveway.
This was his chance, and he wasn’t going to miss it. Panting heavily, he walked up to her, and much more confidently this time, said hello, and formally introduced himself. To his shock, she eagerly shook his hand and introduced herself to him. She then shocked him even more by complimenting him on his running. She explained that she was a personal fitness trainer and that she had been a runner for years. Teresa then did the unimaginable, she offered to train John in running. John was speechless initially. Could this really be happening? But this time he quickly recovered, and accepted her offer. Teresa said she was very excited to undertake his training, but she also warned him that she took it very seriously and expected total commitment from him. John wholeheartly agreed, and they made a plan to meet everyday at 2pm to run.
Their workout plan was successful for the first two weeks. John was losing weight and getting in tremendous shape. And even better, he was falling in love with Teresa. Then the worst thing possible happened. John lost his biggest clients at work. He was an independent internet marketing consultant. He normally worked from home, but in the last few months, John had neglected his job, in favor of working out, running, and watching Teresa. Apparently, his big clients had lost their patience with him and they decided to go with someone else. This news sent him into a depression. John stopped showing up for his 2pm daily running appointment with Teresa, and he started eating junk food again, and generally not caring for himself. Although he missed Teresa, he felt that there was no way a woman like her would care for a guy without a job. Further, each day he failed to run or workout, he knew he was breaking his resolution, which made him even more depressed.
John did his best to avoid Teresa. He wouldn’t answer the door when she came over, nor did he answer her calls. This went on for a couple of weeks. Then on a Saturday morning, John went outside to get his newspaper, when out of nowhere appeared Teresa. And she was PISSED OFF! He broke down and told her the whole story. After he explained, she was still mad but at least she understood. She told him that she was most hurt by his fear that she wouldn’t like him if he didn’t have a job. Teresa told him that she liked him the first time they met by his mailbox, even though he could barely manage a sheepish “hi.” John was happy to hear that she had apparently not given up on him, but he was intrigued to be invited over to her house, as she had never done this before. He said he would be there at 9pm.
John arrived at Teresa’s house at the appointed time, and he brought a bottle of wine and flowers. She answered the door and let him in. Teresa was dressed impeccably well in a navy blue skirt, white blouse, and Carlos Santana 4 inch pumps. She greeted him with a combination of warmth and firmness, with left John with a slightly uncomfortable feeling which he couldn’t explain. After putting the flowers in a vase with water, and pouring them each a glass of wine, she led him into the living room where she welcomed him to sit on the coach. Teresa sat next to him. She proceeded to tell John how much she liked him, and how hurt she was when he stopped running and cut off contact with her. John nearly began crying when he heard this. She went on to tell him that breaking his commitment both to her and to himself was a terrible thing to do. John hung his head low and agreed with her. Teresa then told him that she felt that he is a great guy, but that he lacks discipline, which he desperately needs to be successful in life and in his relationships. John agreed with this as well, although he began to wonder a little where this conversation was going. At this point, Teresa told John that she wanted to be his partner, both socially and in running, but he would have to first accept her discipline. A feeling of both dread and excitement started mixing in John upon hearing this.
Teresa directed John to get up and to follow her into a small room upstairs. When they got there, she closed the door behind them, and opened the closet. There hung an array of paddles, straps, whips, and canes of various sizes. On the dresser were a collection of hairbrushes. Seeing these items immediately confirmed what he had feared she was talking about downstairs. Obviously, she was a disciplinarian. Teresa told John that he was free to go at anytime, but that given his breach of commitment to both her and his resolution to himself, he needed to be punished before they could go on with there relationship.
John thought about her words. The heady mix of dread and excitement he had been feeling swelled to epic proportions throughout him. Part of him wanted to leave, but a greater part wouldn’t let him, intuitively knowing that he wanted and needed this. So he accepted what was about to occur.
Teresa smiled, which broke the tension a little. She then pulled a straight backed mahogany chair into the middle of the room. She sat down, and then told John to take his pants down but to leave his underwear on. His heart began racing a million beats per minute when he heard this, but he complied. She then uttered what has become his favorite and most feared saying, ” get over my knees.” Upon assuming this position, Teresa began to spank his bottom with slow methodical slaps of her right had, alternating each cheek. John had not been spanked in over 25 years, so this was almost like a new experience for him. He had blocked out of his mind how bad it had hurt when his mother had disciplined him when he was young. Evert 10 or so slaps, Teresa picked up the intensity and speed of the spanking. After about 50, John’s bottom was getting red and hot. He was moaning in pain. Teresa stopped, and began wriggling his underwear down to his knees. John’s heart stopped. Is she really going to spank me on my bare bottom, he asked himself? He got his answer a second later, when the full force of her palm came firing down on his sore bottom. She continued on for another 50 of hard painful smacks. He could barely breath as the last blows rained down on him.
Tersely, she told him to get up, which John happily complied with. As he began to pull up his pants, Teresa yelled at him to stop, saying “that was just your warm up!” He gasped at hearing this. He wanted to leave, but something held him back. Teresa looked at him and then looked at the dresser, and then told him what is now definitely his least favorite saying, “get me the brown hair brush.” Meekly, he followed her command. The brown hair brush is a brown cherry wood stained oval brush at least 6 inches wide with a long handle. It is elegant as a implement of beauty, but hideous as an implement of punishment. John handed it to her and assumed the position over her knees. He could not believe what was happening. The first smack of the heavy brush on his red hot skin nearly made him jump off her knees. Teresa yelled at him to keep still, and she positioned her leg around his legs and held him tightly with her left arm. John was locked in and completely helpless and exposed in this position. She began spanking his defenseless bottom. The level of pain was off any known scale. And she had no mercy. She rhythmically struck both cheeks, constantly increasing the intensity and speed, until she needed to rest her arm for a second, before continuing again. After 75 smacks, John started crying. Up to that point he had been trying to fight through the pain, but it just got to be too much. Through his blubbering, he was also apologizing profusely. Teresa took a moment to chastise him for his failures, and told him that if he ever broke a promise to himself or her, he would be punished even worse. John shook at the thought. Thinking that they were done, John tried to get up. This brought a barrage of smacks from Teresa, who angrily gave him another 75.
After the hair brush session was over, John literally fell off Teresa’s lap. The tears were still streaming down his face and he was exhausted. Teresa told him to go stand in the corner, but not to rub his bottom, which by this time was almost purple. She told him that she had to get the next implement of his punishment ready. Although she told him that her anger had waned at this point, she felt he need 12 stokes with a cane to seal the memory of this punishment in his mind so that this never occurs again. John was almost delirious with pain at this point, so he did not really understand what she meant by 12 stokes with a cane. He even thought that only 12 strokes can’t be that bad after what he just went through. Teresa quickly chose a dragon cane to punish him with. She commanded that he come over and stand behind the mahogany chair and bend over it. He did so, grateful that it would be over soon. Teresa stood behind and to the side of him, whipping the cane through the air. John became alarmed at the high pitched sound made by the cane. Then it happened. She landed the first of twelve strokes with the cane. It was the worst pain he had experienced on this remarkable day. He screamed and jumped up. Teresa demanded that he assume the position again. Notwithstanding how badly it stung and hurt, he felt powerless to do anything but accept her punishment. Thus, he resumed the position, although he started crying profusely again. Each stroke hurt so much, he thought his bottom was going to explode. On the last one, John thought Teresa actually took a running start prior to connecting with his inflamed, and striped bottom. Finally it was over.
Teresa told John to take his time and when he was ready to come down to the living room where they would discuss the future. She then departed and left John to contemplate his further relationship with her. It took him at least 15 minutes just to be able to pull his underwear and pants up. He was in excruciating pain every time part of his clothing touched any of the well struck sports on his swollen and red behind. Even walking was painful. Eventually, he made it downstairs. Teresa asked him to sit next to her on the coach, but John politely declined. Notwithstanding the pain, John admitted to her again that he had been wrong and that he deserved, and more importantly needed her correction and discipline.
Five years later, John and Teresa are still a team. John is now a marathon runner, and a successful coach. Teresa is still keeping him in line with regular spankings. And he has never broken another promise to himself or anyone else.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Fun Bloggers and Friends



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

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

Original F/M Spanking Fiction: ‘The Predicament’



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 Predicament”


All I could think of was how did I get myself into this predicament.  I felt sick, with my stomach doing cart wheels as I was driving to meet Ms. Kane.  At the time, it seemed like such a good idea.  I would enlist the support of Ms. Kane to help motivate me to start losing weight that my doctor instructed me to lose…a reasonable goal of 10 lbs. But now, I found myself in the position of having to try and explain to Ms. Kane the reasons for my failure.  I knew there was going to be allot of disappointment and …severe consequences. 

 
For a little background, I had the good fortune of meeting Ms. Kane several weeks earlier in a pre-arranged spanking session while she was visiting Houston.  The session was as intense as I had ever experienced but also one of the most fulfilling.  Ms. Kane was unbelievably sensitive to my needs and somehow knew exactly when to push my limits and when to back off and let me catch my breath.  She would offer me words of encouragement and praise while administering a OTK bare bottom spanking with her hands and variety of spanking implements that included paddles, hair brushes, and the cane.  At times when I felt I could no longer take any more, she would coach me in my breathing and help me achieve a new and higher level of intensity.  When ending the session with “six of her best” from both a large wooden paddle and cane, I was put in a sub zone space that I had never experienced before.  At the conclusion of the session, Ms. Kane bragged on me and showed me in the mirror the red badge of courage that I had earned.  She made me feel special and provided me with the compassion, care and understanding that I so desperately needed.  I knew then that I wanted to establish a long term friendship and coaching relationship with Ms.Kane.
 
Accordingly, after my doctors visit in which I was instructed to lose at least 10 lbs, I contacted Ms. Kane.  I discussed with her my need to lose weight but also my lack of staying focused and being motivated.  I will never forget her response….”Steve, I would love to help you lose weight.  However, lets just make sure you have a complete understanding.  I am going to be putting allot of my own time and energy in coaching and encouraging you towards your goal.  This is both a physical and emotional investment on my part.  I have no problem in providing you with this investment so long as you are sincere and willing to equally invest in yourself.  There has to be a real commitment from you.”  I immediately let Ms. Kane know that I was totally on-board and would not disappoint her.  She then offered the following chilling words….”Steve, before giving me your final commitment, make sure you understand the consequences if you fail to meet your goal.  You will receive a discipline spanking from me of which you will never forget.  There will not be all the coaching and words of encouragement like I had given to you before.  It will be severe.  Now do you still want to make that commitment to me?”  Once again, I immediately responded that I wanted to proceed and was willing to make all the necessary sacrifices.  Ms. Kane informed me then that she would be visiting Houston again in approximately 6 weeks.  She explained to me then that this would be more than sufficient time to lose 10 lbs in a safe and controlled manner.  Ms. Kane then provided many recommendations and suggestions to help me get started on my way.  She also instructed me to report in a couple of times per week to let her know of my progress.
 
As the initial weeks went by, it seemed like a slam dunk that I could lose the 10 lbs within the given six week time frame.  By the end of week 3, I had already lost a total of 8 lbs, primarily by exercising more, cutting down on my food portions and drinking tons of water.  By the end of week 4, I had made my goal weight.  I wrote to Ms. Kane during this entire time period and was elated to send her the email informing her of reaching my goal.  Ms. Kane responded enthusiastically saying she was very proud of me.  However, she closed her email by telling me now that it was very important for me to maintain this weight loss with a reminder that the final “weigh-in” was when she visited Houston again in 2 more weeks.
 
Well, long story short, the next two weeks flew by with all the festivities associated with Christmas and the new year.  I had stopped weighing myself but felt comfortable that I was maintaining my weight loss.  A day before Ms. Kane was to arrive back in Houston, I got back on the scales to ensure myself that everything was good and I could give Ms. Kane my final glowing report.  HOLY !@#@! – I had actually gained back four pounds and now only had a weight loss of  6 lbs!!!!!!!!  My mind went racing.  I realized I had less than 24 hours to try and lose 4 lbs.  I immediately put on my jogging clothes and started running to total exhaustion.  As I dragged myself back to the weight scales in my bathroom, I prayed that I had sweated off the necessary excess luggage weight.  As I looked at the scale, it saddly showed that I had only sweated off one pound.  The realization then hit me that there was no way I was going to make my committment to both myself and Ms. Kane.
 
So during the preceding night and following morning prior to meeting Ms. Kane, I pondered, fretted, strategized and finally reconciled how I was going to handle my meeting with Ms. Kane.  Initially, I thought I would just lie about my weight loss and tell her I had actually achieved my goal.  I mean, its not like she actually saw my initial weigh in.  However, the more I thought about it, I knew this was not acceptable.  A relationship like the one I had and wanted to maintain with Ms. Kane was about trust.  I knew if this trust was ever breached, in any way, our relationship would never be the same.  So finally, I came to the conclusion that the only way to handle this was to be honest with Ms. Kane and tell her the whole truth.
 
While driving to our appointment, I must admit that I started having second thoughts.  All I could think of was knowing how much hurt I would bring to  her and remembering her previous words that if I failed on my committment, the spanking would be severe.  Once again though, I knew I had to follow through in be true to both myself and Ms. Kane.
 
I finally reached the meeting destination and called up to Ms. Kane to let her know I arrived.  She sounded so happy and glad to hear my voice.  She cheerfully gave me her rooom number and said she was looking forward to seeing the new and improved person.  As I rode up the elevator to her room, my stomach and heart were sinking.  I was so dreading this upcoming moment.  I felt just like the Lion in the Wizard of Oz when he ran away from the Wizard and jumped through the window because he was scared.
 
I knocked on her door and it was immediately opened.  Ms. Kane welcomed me in and gave me a big hug.  She looked amazing, wearing a dress the showed off her beautiful figure and cleavage that would make any man weak in the knees.  She then took a step back and looked at me.  A bit of a frown went across her face.  “Steve, how much weight did you say you lost”, she asked.  I then stuttered and finally told her…”Ms. Kane, I didnt make my weigh loss goal.  I know you are disappointed and believe me, I am disappointed in myself.  I cant believe that I am having to give you this news,  I am embarrased and ashamed.”  Ms. Kane just stood there, with her arms cross and a glaring look in her eyes.  I went on further to try and explain how this failure occured, hoping to find some excuse that would bring some level of sympathy from Ms. Kane.  However, as I further tried to explain and come up with excuses, the look on Ms. Kane’s face seemed to even become stern.  I finally realized that I was actually digging myself a deeper hole and decided the best action at this point was to throw myself at the mercy of the court.
 
Ms. Kane still stood there with her arms folded and finally spoke slowly and coldly to me…”Steve, I am hurt and so disappointed with you.  We had an agreement and you basically lied to me.  Do you remember what I told you the consequences would be if you failed to make your weight goal?”  I responded…”Yes maam, I do.  Please know that I am so sorry!”  “Well, sorry right now is not going to cut it mister”, she stated.  “I am now going to leave the room for a moment and give you some time to reflect and make a decision.  If you are ready to suffer the consequences, when I come back in the room, I expect you to have all your clothes off and be standing with your hands on top of your head and your nose stuck in the corner of this room.  I will want you to be thinking about the severe spanking you are about to recieve and know that no matter how much you beg and plead for mercy, that none will be given.  However, if you decide that you are not willing to suffer these consequences, then you need to realize that I will escort you out of my room and that we will never make contact again.  Do you understand?”  At that point, Ms. Kane exited the room and left me standing there dazed.
 
As I shakenly stood there, I must admit that there was consideration of taking the second option of leaving.  I knew from the first spanking I recieved from Ms. Kane, she could deliver an unbelievably hard spanking.  However, at least that spanking had the words of encouragment and caring carresses that helped me through the session.  I knew that this was not going to be the case this time.  Deep down though, I knew what I had to do.  So slowly, I started taking off my clothes and folding them across the chair in the room.  When I got to my underwear, I knew then ther was no turning back.  I finished my disrobing and went to the corner of the room, put my nose in the corner and placed my hands on the top of my head as instructed and waited on Ms. Kane’s return.  
 
Shortly thereafter, Ms. Kane returned to the room.  “Steve, I am glad you finally made the right decision.  As I already told you, I am deeply disappointed in you and angry.  You are going to recieve a discipline spanking that you will remember for weeks ahead by everytime you sit down.  I dont want to hear you pleading or telling me how sorry you are any more.  We are well past that point and that is something you should have thought about a long time ago.  However, I will tell you that at the conclusion of the spanking, I will consider our slate clean again and we can resume our relationship.  Does all this sound reasonable and fair?”  Knowing that I could re-build the relationship with Ms. Kane was enough to respond affirmatively to her question…”Yes maam, you are being more than fair and I recognize that I deserve the spanking I am about ready to recieve.”
 
Ms. Kane then said.  “Well Steve, then lets get started and get this over with.  Please follow me to the end of the bed where I want you to bend over and place both hands on the matress.  I will want you to push out your bottom and maintain this position throughout your spanking.  Any jumping around, leg kicking and hollering will only prolong your punishment.  Do you understand?”  I shook my head yes and then turned around to follow her to the end of the bed.  When I saw Ms. Kane, she was no longer in a dress but had changed to blue jeans and a sweat shirt.  It was like she was fixing to go to a blue collar job work site.  Ms. Kane could see the suprise in my eyes and quickly told me…”Steve,  I’m dressed like this to ensure your entire focus is where it should be…namely your breaking of a promise and your failure to follow through on committments that you have made to yourself and me.  Do you understand”…she scolding stated.    “Yes maam, I understand”…I responded.
 
Ms. Kane led me over to the end of the bed and pushed on my back to have me bend over.  ” Steve, I told you I wanted your bottom sticking out.  Now hurry up and get on with it.”  I did as instructed and then waited.  Out of no where came the first swat from hell.  Apparently she had the large paddle, the one she had used on me before when giving me “six of her best”.  The immediate impact was of unbelievably intensity.  I definitely realized now, that without any bottom warm up, that her comment of remembering this spanking for weeks to come was a statment of fact and not opinion.  Without any further delay, the paddle came down again, again and again.  The room was echoing with the sounds of what can only be described as shot gun blasts.  The only interuptions during the spanking was when she took the time to remind me to stick my bottom out again.  After an undetermined amount of swats from this vicious paddle, and my bottom throbbing in total pain, Ms. Kane stopped to gather her breath.  My legs were shaking so badly, that I was unsure if I could still stand up.
 
Ms. Kane then told me…”Steve,  we are about through with your spanking.  You took the spanking well, other than some of the feet dancing, which I will address here shortly.  However, before starting again, I want to make sure that I will have assurances from you that this failure to meet your committments will never happen again.”  With a shaking voice, I responded…”Ms. Kane, I do understand your disappointment and I don’t take it lightly.  I understand how I lied to you. I promise you this will never happen again.  I know what I am receiving right now is just and due.”  I actually added the last part thinking this might soften up Ms. Kane and make the last part of the spanking not at intense.  I was wrong.
 
“Good” she replied…”The last of the spanking is going to be with the cane.  I know you are nervous about the cane but this is what is required to make sure I leave a lasting impression.  Furthermore, I  better not see any dancing feet or I can assure you, not only will your bottom get a thrashing, but your thighs as well.  Do I make myself understood?”  Any hopes of leniency were lost in her “matter of fact” statment. I nodded my head while she repositioned my hips to make sure my bottom was out and I was located free and clean from any obstacles she might accidently hit while swinging the cane.
 
I then heard behind me the numerous swishes of the cane as it cut through the air.  I felt shivers go down my back and tried to mentally prepare myself for the upcoming on-slaught.  I did not have to wait long.  The first stroke of the cane hit dead center on my bottom.  One would think that after the paddling, some of the sensory nerves would have been numbed.  WRONG….the pain shot through my bottom like someone had just placed a hot branding iron on my bottom.  The wind was literally sucked out of me, leaving me breathless.  Ms. Kane then calmly told me…”Steve, I plan to give you nine more strokes of the cane that were just like this first one.  I will warn you now though, I better not see any wiggling around.  Now, as I administer each stroke, I want you to count them out to me and I think it would only be right that you ask for another.  Do you agree?”  Obviously, I had no room not agree and therefore responded with…”Yes maam, I agree totally.”
 
So the caning continued.  As promised, each stroke of the cane was given with the same intensity as the first.  It is hard to explain but the initial cane / skin contact seemed tolerable but would then have an exploding aftershock effect.  As instructed, I would count off each stroke while asking for another.  By the seventh stroke of the cane, I actually found myself crying.  This was the first time I had ever cried during a spanking since I was nine years old.  I now found myself blubbering like a baby…partially out of the pain intensity but more so because of the guilt I had been carrying for so long.  When the final stroke of the cane had landed, I litterally collapsed on the bed.  My legs were so weak that I could no longer stand.  Dana, (no longer my disciplinarian but now my friend), sat next to me on the bed and comforted me with soft words and a caring carress of my back and buttocks.  She then went to the table and brought back some lotion and applied it to my backside while stating…”Steve, our slate is clean again.  I am proud of you for taking the punishment spanking.  Just relax here now and think about your way forward and not looking back.  I want you to re-commit to me now your goal to lose the weight your doctor has recommended.  I really do care about you and your health.”
 
I knew she cared.  It meant a lot to me and I was so appreciative of all her past and current support.  Most importantly to me, I knew she would be there in the future as well.  So without hesitation, I sat up (gingerly) and told her that I would lose the additional weight and had no qualms with providing her with a guarantee.  With a caring voice and slight smile, she told me…”I do believe you, but lets just make sure that your willing to still make this committment again in a weeks time…when your bottom can really remind you of the negative consequences.”  She then helped me up to take a look at my bottom in the mirror.  Deep welts and bruising had already started occurring.  She then gave me a big hug and told me to take my time in getting dressed as she was leaving the room.  I stood there still looking at my bottom in the mirror.  Even though the pain was intense, I also felt  a deep sense of relief…like my soul had been cleansed.  I also felt grateful and thankful that I had a great friend in Dana.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

F/M Spanking Story; ‘An Ode to New Year Resolutions’

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

*****




An Ode to New Year Resolutions

By UK Laureate


Dear friends, you know of New Year hopes and worthy aspirations –
We make our resolutions but not based on firm foundations;
Somehow we think that on a whim we’ll fix our bad behaviour
As though the change of date and year will prove to be our saviour.

The proverb says ‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions’ – 
It’s not enough to vaguely think we’ll somehow make abstentions
From habits bad and oh so oft succumbing to temptation.
And other flaws like wilfulness and thoughtless abdication.

They say there’s seven deadly sins that call for much appeasing,
But even then there’s lots more traits that others find displeasing;
Much as we try men never can achieve rectification
Without the aid of guidance from a woman’s castigation.

With hand and strap and pliant rod, the tools of inculcation,
They teach us that our naughty ways have one ramification:
Our bottoms burn with painful stripes, the marks of flagellation,
That lead us to transcendence and behaviour reformation.

So what of me, you may well ask, this Brit sexagenarian
Who writes these words for all to read, wrongdoer or disciplinarian;
In public here on Dana’s blog I make this declaration:
For all the faults I’m guilty of I’ll make full reparation.

Across the knee or bending down, I’ll make my whole confession – 
Oh dear, I think that might require a comprehensive session!
But when my dues I’ve fully paid with thrashings in abundance,
My thanks I’ll write in verse or prose to tell of my comeuppance.

Now spankos all, please join with me in joyous adulations
Of Dana and all womenfolk who punish violations;
It’s at their hand we errant men receive our retribution –
And so I say ‘more spanking’ is our foremost resolution!
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

A new Clips4Sale store for Dana Kane



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


And a new banner:

Link to my blogsite here at: http://danakane.blogspot.com
or my Clips4Sale store at: http://clips4sale.com/50197
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

F/M Spanking Story: ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest



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 Broke My New Year’s Resolution


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.

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

Spanking Great Poetry: ‘Maybe Later’

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

*****

Maybe Later


I need to get some things done
But I would rather go out and have fun
Time seems to pass by too fast for me
For some reason it seems to flee
More time is what I need, I wish I could borrow
My words are, I’ll do it tomorrow
You’re sitting there, arms folded waiting for me
I can tell from your position that I’m bound to be over your knee
I try to tell you that I’m too old
But you’re silent and your arms unfold
Over you lap, I see the floor
Thinking about how I’m going to be sore
The swoosh then came
I knew my bottom would soon feel like a flame
I kick and I cry
I can’t get up no matter how hard I try
I beg and I plead
That you forgive me for this deed
Promises are what I begin to make
To possibly give my sore bottom a break
My lesson I say I have learned
So you can say this is adjourned
My resolution I will not break
Procrastination is no longer a problem, for my bottom’s sake
Maybe later, I used to say
Now I say I’ll do it today

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

Fantastic F/M Spanking Story: ‘The B.A.C.O.N. Project’



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

*****

‘The B.A.C.O.N. Project’



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. ***

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

Dana Kane Premium Spanking Video – coming soon!


Readers,

I am excited to announce (finally) the upcoming availability of premium Dana Kane spanking video content. 
I’ve gone back and forth – and back again – on the many ways in which sale-able video may be distributed, and have decided on what seems to be the simplest beginning option –  the clips4sale studio. While I do still have intentions for a dedicated video site and DVD production in the future, clips4sale seems like the smart way to start.
Once the site is up and looking pretty, I’ll be adding many of the free videos which you’ve viewed here, making them available for download. In upcoming weeks, I’ll begin adding new spanking videos to the site – and will add a small link here on my blogsite to direct interested parties to premium content.

But…fear not! I will still be adding free videos here on my blogsite regularly, along with photos, stories, and contests.

– Dana


Screenshot from ‘IT : A POV Lesson in Marital Obedience’ 
– premium F/M spanking video, coming soon:
He’s done ‘IT’ again. He won’t admit IT, but we both know that he’s guilty.
A stern lecture brings out the truth, and a swift punishment follows.

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

Original F/M Spanking Story: ‘New Year’s Resolutions and the Consequences of Failure’

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

*****
New Year’s Resolutions and the Consequences of Failure


Our marriage is truly the envy of our friends and acquaintances. Not that we EVER try to put ourselves up there as special; but people often spontaneously make those kind of comments, And since you are reading this here, you already know what’s next. Ours has been a female-led disciplinary arrangement since Day 1. Actually from pre-Day 1 – I received a ritual switching in the woods – with her seated on a log the day before. The disciplinary part of our relationship started with the Disciplinary Wives Club and Aunt Kay’s generous support.
I mention Aunt Kay because she taught to my wife one particular practice that has never failed in terms of promoting behavior change. It is simply “doubling” for repeat offensives. So in our home my wife’s rules are painfully clear; if I continue with a behavior she has corrected me for something doubles. I can pretty much count on that being the length or intensity of spankings. It also might be new or additional other punishment such as television restriction, really unpleasant chores, or whatever she, in her creative wisdom, decides.
Personally, I would rather skip the New Year’s Resolutions. But we always do them anyway. She takes them rather seriously and we have meaningful discussions about what the focus for the year will be. I want to be clear that these discussions are not “orders from the Boss”. We talk about health, happiness, finances, relationships with friends and family and more. 
I am the one who ultimately makes the decision as to what my Resolution will be. Once we are in the process I do feel good about it. We have excellent communication and everything is based on what we believe brings the highest good to each of us. We discuss more than just “what” the Resolution might be. We discuss how I might achieve them and think about some of the potential obstacles. See, her goal is for me to be successful. She is not, in any way, looking for an excuse to give me more spankings (she doesn’t need an excuse when she senses one would do me good anyway).
Last year I chose to stop using curse words completely. While I am expected to present myself in a civil and cultured manner when we are with others, she has not really objected to my using occasional colorful language when it is just us. 
The reason for my decision was that year we had house guests, a DWC couple from Europe, and my  “occasional colorful” language emerged when they were around. The wife didn’t approve and it did not reflect well on my wife. So, we talked about it and I decided that I had no real need for that language and would be willing to eliminate it.
I have admit that it was more ingrained than I realized and that the doubling of spanking and restrictions was not only painful to endure, but it did cause some friction between us. I am thankful that she does not get deterred and does not tolerate a lot of what I was doing to cause the friction. Last year was the first time I got a tied down spanking from her and she has never had to repeat that again.
So it’s December and we will be having that Resolutions discussion soon. She doesn’t usually specify the consequences. But, I know that when I make a resolution, I am making a commitment to her and she is one who does not see failure as an option.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Contest Winner: ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ Spanking Story



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

*****


Write What You Know


Have you ever had one of those moments when your life changes in an instant, when circumstances progress beyond your control and the world turns upside down with no time to anticipate?
This was not that.
On this distinctly cold January evening, as I stood at the doorstep of a woman I barely knew, seconds stretching beyond measure while I worked up the courage to take some action, any action… suddenly I had all the time in the world to think about how I came to be in this situation.
I work at a small cafe, just a couple blocks down from my apartment. With food that’s only decent and less than mediocre coffee, I suspect it’s really the comfy chairs and the brick fireplace that keep the place in business. Hardly the mentally stimulating job I thought I’d have a couple years out of college, serving coffee to people with whose lives involve the very intellectual challenges that I used to aspire to.
But the best part of my week by far would start at 8 o’ clock sharp every first and third Wednesday of the month. They’re not writers like the ones that come in sporadically, hugging laptops and holing up by power outlets, seeking only free Wi-Fi and a sense of privacy in a public space. They come with their pads, moleskins, and red pens, forming a circle around the fire.  They don’t all share any one common trait, not one age bracket, gender, education, walk of life… besides an interest writing and sharing their work.
They aren’t particularly loud or boisterous, and yet I was hopelessly distracted whenever they met. I found myself misfiring orders, picking shifts based on their schedule, even wiping down tables strategically so as to spend the most time within earshot. It’s not even that the writing was so captivating, though some of it was, but rather their ability to produce work on a regular basis that intrigued me. I had never been able to achieve that kind of consistency with my own writing outside of a classroom setting. 
Though their individual discipline was admirable, they also clearly benefited from the organizational leadership of one member, a woman whose voice had a particular way of holding my attention. Her name was Ava Marks, and there was a certain crisp, lyrical efficiency when she spoke that could make the most mundane of procedures sound profoundly compelling. She ran the meetings in a way that is simultaneously gracious and uncompromising. She could probably write a best-selling guide to herding creative types, or cats for that matter.
I should have known that the same qualities that caused me to notice her would also eventually lead to her noticing me. After a couple of months thinking I was flying under the radar, one night while closing up I turned to find her standing at the counter, waiting patiently. I worked to contain my surprise and maintain a professional demeanor.
“Can I help you?” No, I didn’t just spend the evening hanging on your every word.
“I’m afraid I have something we must discuss.”
The possibility of her dissatisfaction bothered me much more than I’d like to admit.
“Sadly I can’t do anything about the coffee. Has there been a problem with the service?”
She laughed, relieving me of my worry.
“No, the service has been satisfactory. Attentive to a fault.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“But if you’re going to continue to attend our meetings, I’m afraid I must ask that you participate beyond providing oddly frequent refills.”
Busted. I should have known it would be too obvious. At least it was nice while it lasted.
“I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“I should hope not. Rule number one, you see, is that everyone shares a piece with the group for critique. It helps to preserve the integrity of the discussion when everyone puts a little skin in the game.”
Don’t cheat yourself – click ‘Read More’ below to expand the whole story.  – Dana)


“I’ve just enjoyed listening, that’s all. I guess I’ve been trying to start writing again myself, and your group is so prolific. From now on I promise, I’ll just do my job and keep my distance.”
“No, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Surely she won’t ask that I rearrange my shifts. It can’t be that bad. But a gentle smile decorated her features.
“I have a feeling you’re going to start writing again. In fact, I think you’re going to write a piece and read it at the next group.” No challenge in her voice, just simple, firm resolution. Warmth as well, which almost assuaged my instinct not to just give in on principle. Almost.
“I haven’t written anything in years, not since college.”
“Well then, it’s about time, isn’t it?”
I shook my head.
“I’m not like your group. I could barely keep up with my writing prompts in class.”
For the first time I noticed the glint in her eye when she smiled at me, accented by her exquisite cheekbones.
“Do you know why the writers in our group stand in front of the hearth when they read?”
Confused, speech failing, I shook my head again.
“I find that creative minds work best with some fire behind them, so to speak. That… and it keeps the pieces down to a managable length.”
“What does that have to do with…?”
“Accountability, of course. Without the communal process, I’m sure many members of our group would find themselves stuck, precisely like you. You’ll find it easier to start again if you know others expect it of you. You will begin to expect it of yourself. “
I turned this over in my head.
“I guess I do need a new year’s resolution, and setting expectations would help get me motivated. “
“Yes, indeed. But vague resolutions are always the first to fail. So you’re going to do what, exactly?”
There was that glint again, accompanied by raised eyebrows. It was my turn to laugh.
“I’ll write a piece and read it at the next group.”
She grinned, self-satisfied.
“Precisely.”
So we were agreed. Ms. Marks even offered to host the next meeting at her nearby home so that it would be an environment outside of my workplace. It was set for January 4th, which according to her was plenty of time to come up with something. In fact, it proved to be far too much time for me.
That night, after our conversation, I didn’t sleep a wink. Instead I sat at my desk from dusk till dawn, still in my work clothes. My keyboard remained untouched. For the first time in who knows how long I was putting actual pen to paper, the consequence of which is no backspaces, so I discarded sheet after sheet when each new shiny idea lost its initial luster.  It was exhilarating to write again, but nothing would stick in my head for more than a few minutes. How did I get through school like this?
The night trudged on, my blood sugar dropped lower, and various associations began to string together like the blinking Christmas lights outside my window. My mind kept leading me back to my days at school, the pressure of a looming deadline, and eventually weaved into the narrative was the watchful gaze of an authoritative female figure, with a voice that was simultaneously soothing and firm. My protagonist thrived under her capable discipline, which he only accepted in order to reach his full potential, of course. No other reason. The words flowed through me like water. As the sun rose that morning, I laid my head down for a proper crash nap on top of work I was actually proud of.
But the next few days provided me with ample opportunity to tear that confidence to shreds. I went over the story over and over again, enjoying it each time despite the sloppy, passionate candor of the character I had created, but troubled at my enjoyment and convinced that this subject matter belonged off the page and safely confined in my head. No one should ever read this. But the story stuck with me, as things we try to ignore often do. Though I tried to develop other ideas, nothing stuck the way this one had.
New Year’s Eve came and went, as did my work shifts, all blended together. Finally, Wednesday evening arrived. I watched from my parked car as each arriving guest was greeted at the door and welcomed inside. Eight o’ clock came and went. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. I folded and refolded the pages. Thirty minutes. There was no way I could read this out loud to a group of practical strangers, Ms. Marks. My hands shook and sweated even picturing it. But what is worse, facing humiliation in front of the group, or letting her down, making her think that she was wrong to encourage me at all? Never seeing that glint in her eye again…
At the very least, she needed to know that I had made the attempt, that I written something and shown up, even if my next move was to turn my tail and run. Not proud, but sure that she would understand, I left the folded pages sticking halfway out of the mailbox beside her door.
In lue of examining my actions further, I tried to busy myself by going in to work. But the flicker of the fire brought my mind back to her door. What if she didn’t find my writing? Even worse, what if she did? She’s a woman of substance, with no reason to bother with the crooked fantasies of an aimless twenty-something. What was I thinking, leaving it there?  Time slowed to an excruciating crawl as I finished out the shift I had volunteered for.
By the time I made it back to her block, the last guest was pulling out of her driveway. There was still light in the front windows. The porch light was off, making for ideal conditions to retrieve the pages from her mailbox. Had they been there… which they weren’t.
Which brings me to my current predicament. Standing outside her door, wavering between running and ringing the bell. Certainly not both. And then, just like that, the door opened and the decision was made for me.
“Jeremy.”
I froze. She didn’t sound curious as to why I was here, nor the least bit surprised.
“Don’t just stand there. Come in.”
I blinked like an idiot, glancing at the mailbox and back. She ushered me into her living room, where a fire was lit and empty coffee mugs still occupied every available surface, waiting to be cleared. Like the cafe, but with coasters. Ah, familiarity.
She removed her reading glasses and set them on a desk at the far end of the room, next to the folded yellow pages I had come back for. She then turned to face me.
“You’re dreadfully late. But, I suppose you know that.”
“I’m sorry… I came to apologize…”
She cut me off with a click of her tongue, one of the many audible pauses I had heard her use before, as she settled into a high-backed leather arm chair.
“That’s a good start. But sorry for what exactly?”
“I shouldn’t have left the pages… or, I should have stayed and… well, I really shouldn’t have written it at all…”
Again she clicked her tongue, mercifully putting a stop to my stammering.
“Let me help. You’re sorry that you wrote a story that you clearly had no intention of reading to the group. You’re sorry that you failed to keep your word and show up to the meeting at all. And most importantly, you’re sorry that you broke your resolution and let yourself down.”
I hung my head as her words washed over me. I let you down as well, I wanted to say. Then something in the back of my mind chimed defiantly.
“I didn’t break my resolution.”
“Oh no?”
“I started writing again.”
She shook her head. “Accountability. You resolved to participate in the communal process of writing. You resolved to write a piece and share it with a group of peers, to listen to their stories, to give and receive feedback. To grow as a writer. What you did was jot down a first draft, entertaining as it was, and abandon it at my door like a coward.”
The last word cut through me like a knife. Coward. And yet… did she just complement my story?
“I didn’t want you to think that I…”
“Hush now. That’s enough talk from you.”
As she rose from the chair my heart sunk into my chest. She would show me the door, I would sink back into the daily grind, and flog myself daily for having ruined this opportunity. But instead, she took two steps and made herself comfortable on the ottoman, crossing her heels at the ankle. The look in her eyes reminded me of how neighborhood cats used to stare through the window at my parrot in its cage.
“Come here.”
Not a hint of force in her voice, just simple, calm expectation. I blinked, dumbfounded, as if glued to the floor. She couldn’t be serious.
“I promise you will regret it if I have to repeat myself.”
My feet carried me there as if they had a mind of their own. And so I stood at her side, hands clenching uselessly while she unbuckled my belt like it was the most natural thing in the world. Each movement she made while undressing me, however smooth and unceremonious, was slow and magnified in its contrast. This was not at all what I wrote. On those pages, my protagonist was responsible for these preparations, retaining shreds of control as he shed his own clothes and took his cane strokes bent over but still standing, supporting his own weight.
“I’ve known several young writers like you, Jeremy. Intrinsically interested, but extrinsically stagnant.”
I was catapulted back into the present moment by her voice, and then my jeans were dropped swiftly to my ankles. Goosebumps ran up my legs. My eyes darted, trying not to stare at the tops of her stockings, or anywhere near her lap. 
“You clearly need help holding yourself accountable. Do you know how I help boys who can’t keep their resolutions, or their word? I think you do.”
My stomach tied itself into knots. My legs tried not to wobble.
“No? It’s very simple, really. I take them over my knee and I spank their bare bottoms.”
I could hear the edge of excited malice in her voice, coaxing a flush throughout my face and chest. She knew this was not how I had written it. She was exercising flagrant editorial privileges, and enjoying it at that. Without pause, she took hold of my shirt collar and drew me over her lap with ease, taking care to push the back of my shirt up and out of the way. Her left hand was in its place, pressing insistently until I finally settled in to her satisfaction.
I tightened, bracing myself, but now she was in no hurry.
“Have you ever been caned before, Jeremy?”
“No.” I can’t remember ever sounding so sheepish.
“Have you even been spanked?”
“No.” Her use of that particular word made shivers run up my spine. That word appeared nowhere in my story.
She chuckled indulgently, patting the seat of my boxer-briefs as her other arm slid around my waist.
“I didn’t think so. Silly boy, nobody with nerve endings takes a caning like that, clenched and not making a sound. Ridiculous!”
I resisted huffing, still petrified by the indignity of my current position.
“I should show you what I mean; it would serve you right, truly.” She mused as her fingers leisurely traced my waistband, “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘write what you know’?”
She made quick work of peeling my underwear down to my knees. The chill of moving air barely had time to prickle my skin before a single, stinging blow landed across both cheeks. The gravity of what was happening rushed through me in an instant. Suddenly her point about the beating I wrote rang true. Four more to the same spot, steady and measured, had me suppressing yelps and squirming over her lap like a hooked worm.
“Be still.”
Her left arm tightened around me and for the first time, the palm which had stung me so effectively rested on my skin while it soaked in, for just a moment.
For a brief while after that, it became easier to take. But as the physical pain became less paramount, the more I burned over my foolishness, thinking I could maintain control through the cane and instead having to be held in place under the first strikes of her delicate, dexterous hand.
I resolved to take the rest with stillness and silence, and at first, restraining myself wasn’t an insurmountable task. But she was as organized and thorough here as she was in group, methodically covering every inch of exposed skin and knowingly switching to groupings of three and then five when single strikes no longer made such an impact.
I longed for the correction I had imagined, something hard and fast and over quickly. Being held over her knee like this capitalized on my vulnerability by providing a constant feedback loop. She could feel my every movement, tell when I was tightened up or relaxed, or when I was getting used to it, and adjust with frightening precision. Just when I thought she was predictable, a scalding flurry laid into my previously untouched upper thighs, setting me squealing all over again.
“Beginning to get the picture, are we? You are accountable for your words, including the ones that come out of your mouth and the ones that you put on a page.”
She began focusing solely on the spot where thigh meets buttock, beating a rhythmic red tattoo into that small, tender section of flesh, paying no mind to how it made me howl. Spank by painful spank, she stripped away any vestige of my control.
 I no longer cared about feeling foolish or staying stoic. I lost all sense of time, how long I had been there, how much longer it could possibly be before she would grant me a reprieve. The entire focus of my being was her stinging palm as it continued to visit my helpless backside, and all that mattered to me was surrendering to this woman who was so apt at exercising control where I could not. I would take everything she saw fit to give.
And then suddenly it stopped. Just as at the start, every detail became larger than life. My heart pounding, blood rushing in my ears, eyes regaining focus on the hardwood below. Her palm rubbing my wounded bottom, providing momentary relief tempered by hints of soreness that had only just begun. It felt strange, receiving such affection from a hand still warm from disciplining me. Being chastised and cared for at the same time.
Her breathing sounded just as exerted as mine. Her palm must have stung something awful. How is it that after the pain she just put me through, I feel concerned for her, and also… grateful.
“I’ll have that apology now.”
Pulled out of my reverie, I scrambled to find the words.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Marks, for not keeping my resolution, or my word. I promise I’ll read the next piece I write to the group… if you’ll still allow me.”
She clicked her tongue and once more grasped my shirt collar.
“There now, up with you.”
She stood me up again by her side, slapping my hands away when they clutched at my bottom, having no intention of relinquishing her control just yet. With that self-satisfied smile, she examined her handiwork from a different angle, fingers brushing my quivering cheeks, paying no mind to how it made me flinch.
“I’m afraid this is what can happen when you put skin in the game.” She chuckled, giving my bottom a few light pats.
“Do we understand each other now, Jeremy? Are you going to live up to your new expectations?”
“Yes, Ms. Marks, absolutely.”
“Good. I think you’ll find the fruit of your labor is much sweeter if you actually show up to share it with others. You’ll get another chance to do so, in two weeks’ time. You may get dressed.”
As I pulled up my pants, she stood and went over to her desk. I took the opportunity her distraction provided to try to massage some of the sting through my jeans, only to jerk my hands away just as quickly when she turned around. She just smirked and handed me the first draft of my story, put her other arm around my shoulder, and led me gently to the door.
“This is good work. I don’t expect that you’ll share it with the group, but I do hope you finish it someday.”
I looked down at the pages, now with the addition of red marks. Sorely needed edits. Creative fuel.
Before I stepped through the now-open door, I turned to look her squarely in the eyes for what may have been the first time. I didn’t know what else to say.
“Thank you. So much.”
She smiled knowingly.
“Of course. My pleasure.”
Then I took my leave, afraid to do or say anything that would ruin the strange new inspiration I felt in that moment. But I heard her voice from the doorway.
“Oh, and Jeremy?”
I turned, concerned. I had taken my licks, everything had come to a resolution. And yet… that glint in her eye was apparent even from the walkway.
“If you break your word again, I’ll see to it that you’re able to write a proper caning scene.”
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.