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‘Friday Night in Dixie’ : Great ‘What the Camera Saw’ spanking story

‘Friday Night in Dixie’ puts a country-girl spin on F/F spanking. I know you’ll enjoy this muddy romp as much as I did. Thank goodness for January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ !

–  Dana


Friday Night in Dixie

It is Friday night in Dixie and I was bound to have some fun! Afer a 56 Hour work week I jumpped in my truck and headed to pick up my buddy Jen. As I pull up to Jen’s house she motions me to get outta the truck. “What’s up?” I ask intriged. ” We are taking Aunt Susie’s truck!” Jen exclaimes with a wild smile across her face. “What? She is letting you borrow her truck? Does she know what we are going to do?” I ask in rapid fire. “No and no.” she smiles. “You are asking for trouble my friend, when she find out you took her truck though the mud she is going to have your back side for dinner!” I warn her, but inside I so badly want to run that truck through the mud myself. “I know , but it will be worth it!” Jen stood waiting for my answer. I chew my lower lip for a moment, oh I know the consinquences. Just because I am not family doesn’t mean that Ms Edin wouldnt strick me if need be. “ok!” Hell lets risk it.
With that we were off to Mr Johnson pond! The party was already kick’in when we got there. There was 4×4’s everwhere, the music was loud and playing all the favorets. There was a bon fire by the pond and a muddin field to the left. We opened the bottle of Honey Jack up and began taking shots. “Here’s to a Friday night!” I toast “Here’s to one hell of a night!” Jen hollars. We dance by the fire, cheer on some of our fellow mudders and of corse kiss a few guys. Someone had got a jar of kix’s shine and we enjoyed a few swigs, that man makes the best this side of the Georgia line. By 11 Jen and I made our own verson of the Devil whent Down to Gerogia dance. “Lets do what we came here to do!” Jen hollared over the music. “Jen are you sure you want to do this?” “shut up and get in will you!” “ok!”
That 4×4 slug mud like no other! We were having us a real good time. “Hell Jen, I didn’t know you knew how to drive this thing!” Poking fun of her over the reving engin. “I was born to raise hell!, Lets show these boys how its done!” and she let out a Rebel yell! We did 180’s , 360’s hell we created a 420 out there in that mud feild. Up until Jen lost control, no my girl didn’t get that 4×4 stuck in the mud. She did one better than that, we landed right in the middle of Mr. Johnson’s pond. The crowd hooted and hollarded. I couldnt quit laughing when a couple of the boy’s pulled us up outta the water. Jen won’t live this one down for a while. “You sure showed ’em boys how it’s done!” I shoved her from the pastenger side of the truck. “Hell Fire!” is all she said, giving me a nasty look. I laughted!
I stayed the night at Ms Edin’s that night, I wasn’t in any shape to drive the hole way home. I woke to the smell of bacon. “Jen, your aunt has bacon.” I mutter as I throw a pillow her way. “I need some coffee.” she responds without moving. “TheTRUCK!” she jumps up. I giggle.
In the kitchen Ms Edin is at the sink doing dishes. “breakfast smells devine Ms Edin.” I comment innocently. “Oh, Lissa I am glad to see you here, sit I’ll fix you a plate.” The sweetness in her voice couldn’t be mistaken as southern charm. She Knew for sure. I give Jen a sly look as we sit at the table across each other. We ate in silence while Ms Edin stood at the sink. “Did you girls have a good time last night?” Ms Edin broke the silence. I kicked Jen under the table. Her idea , her explaination! “Kinda” she muttered as she put her fork down. I followed in suit, for some reason I wasn’t hungry any longer. “Kinda, you would think a party on a friday night around here would be better than just Kinda fun.” she sweetly relpied. Jen shurgged. She walked over to us, stood by the table between the two of us. For a thin, small framed women Ms. Edin wasn’t one to cross. Belive me from past experience the women is stronger than she looks. With her arms crossed she speaks evenly “Jennifer, will you please explain to me what has happened to my truck.” My eyes stuck to the floor. “umm Well it kinda ened up in the middle of Mr. Johnson’s pond last night.” Jen spoke softly. Took back my the responce Ms Edin opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She stood quietly for a moment. It is beyond me how this women can keep her temper in check, I have never even heard her raise her voice. “In the middle of Mr. Johnson’s pond. Will you please explain how my truck, that was parked in the yard ended up in the middle of Mr. Johnson’s pond. ” she glarded at Jen and I. ” I borrowed it, and it got a little muddy and I didn’t want to return it in that condition so I wanted to wash it off. ” Jen popped off with. I busted! Once I seen Ms Edin’s face I covered my mouth and tryed to stop. Nodding her head with frustration, “Creative explaination for taking my truck without permission, drinnking, mudding, and losing control. ” Who told her?? I wondered. “Both of you in the den NOW!” without thinking Jen and I both got up and walked to the den. We have been there plenty of times before, most with stories just as inventive as this one. We Knew the routin, we sat on the couch and waited. Ms Edin wasn’t far from us and when she entered I seen the belt that hangs behind the back door in her hand. Yup we were in for it. “You” she pointed at me “Stand against the wall and be silent.” I walked to where she had pointed. Derictly behind where Jen would be getting fermly wipped. “Jennifer, up and lean over the back of the couch, pants and undies down.” she demanded evenly. Jen did as she was told, there was no use protesting we knew where that would get us. When it came to disipline Ms Edin is serious, a good old fashion wipp’en will put you in your place, she would always say. Now I had seen this happen to poor Jen many of times, and got to thinking she has never gotten the pleasure of seeing herself in such an uncofortable possision. So ingenious me quietly snuck my phone out of my pocket, if Ms Edin didn’t look back I would have a supprise for Jen when this was all over. I pressed record, as Ms Edin started swinging the belt down hard on poor Jen’s small behind. She cryed out in pain a couple of times. Ms Edin wasn’t tolding back , she was realy pissed this time. She raised the belt up high and brought it down with great force on to Jen’s now red stripped bottom. “Quit Kicking!” she snapped. Jen winned that it hurt which landed on deaf ears and just got her an extra hard swing. After twenty swings Jen was howling almost in tears. But Jen wouldn’t cry, not my girl! Ms Edin stopped for a moment and Jen took a deep breath. ” You, my child, your in deep trouble. I thought you were old enough and I wouldn’t have to disipline you for stuipd shanningons like such anymore. I guess I was wrong. You will be working in the stable’s muching stall’s for the rest of the summer, and you will pay to have my truck detailed. Do you understand me?” she swung and landed the belt directly on Jen’s bottom. “ooooohhhh Yes Ma’ma!” Ms Edin stared swining again this time landing the belt firmly on Jen’s upper legs, she swung back and forth. “Stop it!” And she continiued for another twenty or so swings. Finially poor Jen was done. “Stand up!”, with that I stopped recording… hell if I’m getting caught.. I got my own comming to me without making it worse. Jen stood by my side and I was ordered over the couch bare bottom. I’ll spare you the details of my wipp’in, I’m not as brave as Jen and I may have shed a tear or two. Thank God Jen didn’t have my idea and reecord me!
After it was over and Ms Edin left the room, I handed Jen my phone. She gave me a perplexed look. “Hit Play” I smiled. she did and cracked an evil smile, laughting like crazy, we hugh fived. “Hell Yah!” Jen said ” But you do know that I will be doing my own producing next time.” she added ” please let that be a while, dame she was mad at us!” “tsssh yah!”
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Conversations with Spankos: Ch. 17 (When Spanking’s Not the Answer)


As a spankophile and disciplinarian, I heartily adhere to the idea that not all offenses are spank-worthy. 

It’s no secret that some spank-cravers will go to great lengths to ‘earn’ a spanking – bratting, self-destructive acts, outright defiance, and the like, are employed to try and earn a spanking reaction from their spanker..it’s fun for them.  

This manipulative behavior rarely results in a spanking from me, as I am usually sure that that’s exactly what said brat wants. Spanking him or her for this type of behavior only further reinforces the likelihood of this scenario occurring over and over again. Non-corporal punishments, however, are sometimes really very excruciating exercises which are guaranteed to contain no ‘fun’ whatsoever.

Writing assignments are very effective. A typical assignment may be anything from handwritten lines to Accountability Reports to a written report on specific bad behaviors. (Accountability…very important.)

Corner/quiet time is sometimes also effective, although for some spanking enthusiasts it’s part of the private shaming or embarrassment (i.e. ‘fun’) part.

I’ve instructed a playmate to look at himself in the mirror every morning and repeat positive, self-affirming statements. This was quite possibly the most torturous non-corporal punishment to date – at least in his opinion.

Mouthsoaping also falls under the ‘sometimes fun’ category – at least in fantasy. I’ve found that, even though many spankos fantasize about this non-corporal punishment, many find it absolutely disgusting in practice. Careful what you wish for..


I also believe that some behaviors are naughty enough to warrant both a spanking AND some sort of non-corporal punishment.

In a few cases, I’ve videotaped and publicly released the spanking punishments of my personal playmates. This public shaming has an entirely different effect on the psyche of the spankee, as now, theoretically, the whole world will know what they’ve done.

The Naughty Bench comes in handy after a good discipline spanking, as well. It’s constructed to be as uncomfortable as possible on a recently-spanked bottom, and a few minutes on the Bench is an excellent reinforcement to the discipline just received.

Most non-corporal punishments can naturally be paired with a hearty spanking in order to achieve a more clear and lasting understanding. Along with writing assignments, public shaming, cornertime and mouthsoaping, other excellent variations include:

Household chores
Forced panty-wearing (for boys)
Reading/study assignments
Prolonged nudity
 
 
I’m interested to know which non-corporal disciplines you’ve used or experienced. What ‘works’ for you…and what doesn’t?
 
–  Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Reformatory’ Bonus! Lyndsy’s Perspective


Readers,

We all enjoyed reading ‘The Reformatory’, written by Annika with help from Lyndsy, and I’m hoping that Annika will share more of her wonderful imagination soon. Getting to know Annika and Lyndsy’s characters was a lot of fun, and there was a lot of both of them in the stories…maybe a bit of me, too.

Lyndsy so enjoyed the writing process with Annika that she decided to revisit The Reformatory from her perspective. It’s an excellent read and I’m grateful that Lyndsy’s sharing her words with us. 

Enjoy!

–  Dana



The REFORMATORY

Part 1-L



It was just after 2 o’clock when I pulled up into the driveway of something that was called The Reformatory.  Haha, what a joke I thought to myself.  It’s probably a party house!!  Now, wouldn’t that teach the neighbour a thing or two after sending me here, “because of my regular behaviours” she said, by thinking she’s seen me many times drinking and driving, not wearing my seatbelt, and whatever else she thought she observed, but had no proof of.  Of course, I was guilty of it, but usually it was on the back roads, and it wasn’t a big deal with only a few neighbours that would barely meet up at the same time and pass each other.  But, it was either put up with this, or she was going to make a report to the “proper authorities”, to randomly park around our road, to “catch me” she informed me, and I didn’t need that nonsense, OR my name in anyone’s records!!! 

I think she was just mad because of the prank’s she figured I pulled on her over the years.  She never caught me “red handed” ever, so she never had proof.  Like the time she found her car covered in toilet paper, and inside on the dash was an empty bottle of wine, along with cheese wrappers and cracker crumbs on the seat.  Another time she tried to blame me for putting tampons in her outdoor fish pond, and a sign that said, “I like your new fish!”  Or, when she seen a beautifully wrapped box in her front lawn, looking like it must have landed there accidentally by the mailbox, so she couldn’t resist watching all around her as she grabbed it, tucked it under her coat and took it inside.  I WAS hiding in the brush and watching, and within moments the box came flying out the front door again!  I almost blew my cover and laughed out loud at the look on her face when she realized it was full of the neighbours St. Bernard poop!!  

I would NEVER admit any of it was me of course, and always got away with things.  And this lady was the nosey, busy body on the road.  It wasn’t my fault she was such an easy and deserving target!!



After parking, I was leaning and digging into the back seat of the truck for my bags I heard a voice behind me, “Hello.  You must be Lyndsy?”  I backed out and was surprised to find a lady standing there leaning on the truck with her arms crossed.  I never even noticed or heard her walk up.  She had on jeans, and a button up tan shirt, funky cut jet black short hair, amazing smile, and eyes, well, eyes I don’t do so well, but I think they were blue.  Very attractive, and very confidant looking.  I wondered if she was a tenant or an employee.  “Yep, that would be me.” I said as I put my hand out to shake hers.  She took my hand, with both hers, but didn’t let go when I was about to, “I see we might need to have a talk about tardiness.  You were supposed to be here BEFORE two.”  She held on a few seconds longer as she tried to get my eye contact, and then let go.  “I am Ms. Kane, this is my home.”   “Your home?  Nice!!!  It’s pretty big!!”  I wouldn’t look at her, I was looking at the house. “You must have some wealthy parents!  And to think they want others to live here with you’s?  Sweet!!” was my cool reply, but my insides were scrambling and I was extremely nervous of this whole unfamiliar situation.

“No, I own this house.  And I have it because I use the extra space to be able to have others stay here who are in need of some special attention.  Which I do provide!”

“Really!  Well, I definitely won’t be in much need of that!  I’m pretty content and never get bored, so you will find, personally, I won’t be using up much of your time. And I will be gone before you know it.  But, while I am here, if you need anything fixed or built or painted or even plumbing, or whatever, just let me know!  I am very independent and capable” I informed her.

“Great!!  I could probably use you for a few things around here.”

“Oh, wait, there ARE a couple of things I do NOT do.  I do not do electrical or mornings!!  That’s my limits!!  I hate being zapped, and I hate getting up before I’m ready!  Other than that, we are good to go!!” 

She laughed almost hysterically at that remark, but it made me kind of frown.  What’s so funny about that I wondered?  I mean, I can do almost anything else!!! 

“Well Miss Lyndsy, grab your stuff and let’s head inside.  There will be some adjustments to your do’s and don’ts, but just to put you at ease, I won’t make you do electrical!!”  And she laughed again.  I was beginning to not like that little humour she had.  It almost felt like a dare to me or a hidden implication to a command of sorts.  It was making my inner brat evolve out of control almost immediately.  I guess she never knew what my neighbour had to deal with!

I gathered my things and followed her into the house. 



“Place your things right there by the stairs for now Lyndsy, and I will show you around the main floor and basement.”   I had the grand tour.  It was very simple, neutral and uncluttered.  My favourite was the game room in the basement, and knew I would be spending time there focusing on a video game just to look busy and not have to socialize too much.  I wasn’t much of a people person, and actually enjoyed my alone time to re-energize when needed.

“Now we will go to my office, and this is where we take time to work on problems or concerns or if you have anything you want to share with me, it is a private space for that.  Please feel free at anytime to come to me, and never think I am too busy for you, okay?”   “Okay, but I don’t think this room will find me needing to tend to it,” I replied.  She just smiled at me, shook her head like I didn’t know what I was talking about, and then entered the room.

As she went in behind her desk, I walked around the room looking at the different things she had shelved.  There really wasn’t too many.  Some books, which told me she obviously like to read.  Some souvenir type memorabilia and it looked like rocks of different shapes and colours and size all perfectly arranged in some kind of organized manner.

“Have a seat Lyndsy, please.  I need to go over some of the house rules that I expect from my tenants while staying here.”

I sat down, kind of slumped, put my foot over my knee to LOOK like I was at ease.  I wasn’t, and it was coming out through the playing with my keys, but I thought it would be rather unsuspicious.  When I’m nervous, or anxious, which or normally, I have to have something moving at all times.  At this moment it was fiddling with my keys, and the twitching of my foot.

“Okay, first of all, you will be going to work as usual.  There will be no changes to your responsibility in that area.  I also expect that all my tenants share dinner together, and it has to be a really, REALLY important reason for you not to be here for that.  And I expect a call ahead to let me know you won’t be showing up or running late.  There are other tenants, who you will meet shortly, and I expect respect to each and every one of them.  This is my home, and my rules, and my word is the final one.  I will respect your opinions and ideas, even your objections, but you are here for a reason, and I am here to deal with that with you.  Are you familiar with my type of discipline here at the Reformatory?” 

“Ummm discipline?  No!  Never heard anything about discipline?”  My nose scrunched up on one side and my eyes must have definitely shown confusion.

“Well, how I deal with things here goes back to the old fashioned approach to help my tenants be accountable to their behaviours and make the necessary adjustments to live more satisfying and appropriate choices in life.”

“Old fashioned approach?  Like what, a slap on the hand?  Ruler over the knuckles?”  I laughted a bit, then continued,  “Or, or like writing lines or standing in the corner?”  I laughed again, not hard, just more of an involuntary ‘I’m not scared’ laugh, but my mind was trying to figure out what she was trying to say.

“No.  If I feel your behaviour needs adjusting, there will be accountability applied to it with a spanking of some sort.  Depending on the severity of the behaviour, I will choose to what degree it will be administered,” she continued.

“A spank?”  I stood up, eye brows raised, eyes big, with a total look of ‘whatever’ on my face.  “I reallllllly don’t think that will be happening to this girl ma’am!  Can’t even imagine it!!!”

“Sit down Lyndsy.  I need to continue with the rules so you are aware of them.  And yes, if I feel there is reason for a spank, it will happen, whether you can imagine it or not.”

I just shook my head, and rolled my eyes and let out an obvious ‘not impressed breath’ from my nostrils.

She didn’t seem affected at all by my reaction, and just casually continued on with her spiel, “There will be no smoking in this house, or on the property.  Do you smoke?” she asked.  “Nope, not an issue,” was my reply still looking at my keys in my hands.

She continued, “There will also be no alcohol in the house or on the property, and I know you might have a problem with that, so respect that rule, and we will not have an issue.  There will also be no……”

My ears didn’t hear another word.  I felt something shoot through my body like adrenaline from being in shock.  All that was going through my mind was that little bottle of JD I had in my bag that I planned to have a relationship with at the end of every day.  It was my way of lowering the anxieties when they were building up a little too much.  I never get drunk, so I know it wouldn’t be an issue if that was her concern, so I didn’t think it would be an issue to have it, even if I kept it hid.

“Lyndsy?  Lyndsy!”  I just realized I had zoned out and didn’t hear what else she said, but I wouldn’t let that on!!  “Yes, ma’am.  I am sure you won’t be having any concerns about the rules with me.”   “I hope not Lyndsy, and I trust you understand why they are in place.”  Whew!  That answer must’ve worked!!  Not sure what the other rules were, but whatever!!

She stood up from her desk and flipped her hand to show me to come too.  “Let me show you where your room is, and introduce you to your room mate.”   Oh man… a room mate???  I need my space!  Its bad enough you have to share the house with everyone, but not to have my own room to escape to, that was really beginning to suck!!!  How the heck were me and JD going to have our time together??!!!

I still didn’t understand what the whole issue was for being here.  And I wasn’t so far impressed with having someone telling me what to do, not to do.  And I really was not wanting to share a room with anyone.  So I was feeling this brat inside of me growing some more, and probably going to make things a little difficult to deal with. But whatever, I was here to shut the neighbour up, and I didn’t have to be so obedient or agreeable.  And my stay would obviously be short lived, so I thought.

She knocked on a door and opened it, and pointed for me to step in ahead of her.  “That is your bed over there Lyndsy, and this is your room mate Amy.”  I looked at this adorable girl, and there was something in her smirky smile, or her innocent yet bratty glitter in her eyes, I’m not sure what it was, but I already felt that sharing a room would probably not be a problem with her.  It was rather strange, but it was like we already had a connection.  And I knew nothing about her, other than we were here because we “misbehave” in some area.

Ms. Kane gave Amy and me the run down and I dropped my stuff on the bed.  Amy was pretty obedient, a little too many “Yes, ma’am’s” coming from her, but whatever.  She was probably just wanting to act attentive.  Ms. Kane left us to get to know each other and for me to settle in.   As I unpacked, I could feel Amy watching me with excitement.  After a couple of minutes, I pulled my bottle of JD out of the bag and turned around.  Her eyes almost popped out of her head!  I explained to her what it was, and what it was for, and that I wasn’t sure about sharing because I didn’t want her blowing my cover.  She promised that she wouldn’t touch it, and we giggled and laughed that I had the nerve to even bring it, never mind pull it out.



I pretty much immediately had to find out about this spank thing.  So I questioned Amy on what she knew.  She was pretty sure that’s what happened the night before.  I told her I had never been spanked in my life!!!  And even though there has been many, many reasons to be in trouble somehow, I always talked my way out of it, or sneakily got out of it.  I could see her eyes so focused to what I was saying.  I told her my brat was going to be in full force if I was pushed, but I didn’t want her to know that too definitely yet, so I told her it would pretty much be in a way that wouldn’t require much attention.  More like innocent type bratting.  She was just too adorable and so in tune!!!  I asked her about her spanking history, but she didn’t really have any to share.  We really found it easy to converse about almost anything right away, which was very strange for me, because I don’t normally share much with people and am pretty protective until I know someone for quite awhile.  I was finding her personality something that was already drawing me in.

“Hey kiddo, I think I better hide this bottle of JD!!!  Wouldn’t want the DK to find it!!  What do you think?”  She suggested another container, and we proceeded to accomplish that.  I tucked the empty bottle into my bag to dispose of at work when I went Monday.

I was impressed with the attention I was getting from Amy.  She just wanted to know me, and she shared with me too.  I was beginning to see this being a relationship that could cause a lot of trouble for us because of our humour, but that it could also be something that I wanted to work at.  And I felt comfortable enough putting effort into it and see where it would go.

“Lyndsy?!  Amy?!  Come on down here, it’s time for dinner!!”   Oh boy, that was Ms. Kane’s voice that carried up the stairs, down the hall and through our door!!!  Guess we got a little carried away in our conversation and didn’t notice the time.  We jumped up and raced down the stairs.  I let Amy go ahead, yes, I did, not to let her think she won, but to let her kind of lead the way, as I was not too comfortable with this whole sitting down together with everyone and having to make small talk.  Plus I hadn’t met the other two tenants, so I didn’t know what they were like.

Dinner was a little stressful for me to be sitting at, but me and Amy were at it, already kicking each other under the table, giggling at the conversation taking place between Lori, Kevin and Ms. Kane, not really contributing in any way.  We got a stern look, but I just raised my eyebrows and smiled.  Amy was trying to hold down her mouthful of food without cracking up.

We had to help clean up after dinner.  I couldn’t help but find out what I could about this spanking scenario from Kevin.  He told me about wooden utensils, and Amy was laughing at his replies.  Ms. Kane walked in and asked what we were talking about, so Kevin told her.  I thought it was a fine reply, but before I knew it he was whisked off to her office, and we were told to finish cleaning up and then sent to our rooms.

Me and Amy were still being silly and giggling, and our connection was so natural.  It was almost like the first time in my life I could be myself. 

We ran upstairs in a race, but this time I won!!  No, it’s not cheating if you sit someone on the floor before heading up the steps!  When we got to our room we both stopped and stood silent.  We could hear the smacking Kevin was getting downstairs.  It sounded intense, but I couldn’t understand if it was for real or if it was half for fun.   I dared Amy to go down and spy, but then it got silent.  We didn’t know what was going on, and I could feel the confusion in my mind about this whole place.  It was almost like it was somewhere that I needed to be personally, instead of the frustration in being sent here by the annoying neighbour.  But on the other hand, it was a very scary thought to have someone to answer to for once.  And I didn’t have a clue how I was going to react to any of it.

Me and Amy talked a lot about spanking that night.  It was very strange to even picture, considering we were adults, and holding down jobs, and had been on our own for some time.  Our nerves also made us joke about it a lot, and I even suggested that she take my punishments, because I think she was craving them for some reason, but she wouldn’t go for it.  That night I barely got any sleep as my mind took over trying to picture what could or would happen in this place.  When Amy woke up, she told me that she too kept waking up and thinking.  “Well, we better get downstairs before we find out sooner than later,” I said.  I decided not to push the “no mornings rule” quite yet, that I gave Ms. Kane, but it was because I was already awake anyway. 

I sat quietly at the table observing the rest.  I couldn’t eat that early, so I was just sipping on my coffee.  Ms. Kane was socializing with the others, and they were joking and laughing.  But my nerves were getting the best of me so I couldn’t really participate, plus it was EARLY!!  When Ms. Kane got up from the table, she asked to see Amy in her office after she was done eating and cleaning up.  I felt a moment of relief, until she said, “And Lyndsy, when Amy is done, I will see you next!”  Oh man!!  My stomach did a flip flop.  I really, REALLY hate confrontations.  And even though I didn’t know what it was about, I just had an uneasy feeling in my stomach.  But I was doing everything I could to hide it by goofing off with Amy in between, pretending none of it mattered.



Once Amy was out of the office, she came up to the room.  I tried to get some answers from her about what to expect, what she asked, if she got spanked, if it hurt, but all she could do was tell me to hurry down so Ms. Kane didn’t have to wait.

I stepped inside the door of the office and stopped.  “Come on in Lyndsy.  Sit down in the chair here,” she said as she pointed to the chair across from her desk and her.  I couldn’t sit down, my anxiety wouldn’t allow it, so I acted like I was calm and just looked at different things in the room again.  I asked a few questions about some of the trinkets she had, where they were from etc, trying to kill time.  “Lyndsy, please come and sit down so I can talk with you.”  I so didn’t want to sit there, I needed something to play with in my hands at least to release some of the anxiety I was feeling.  I grabbed a wooden block off the shelf that had different pieces that popped out and twisted, making it lose its shape.  I held it up to her, implying a ‘can I touch this’ and she gave a little nod of her head.  I sat across from her as I was looking down at the wooden puzzle.  She started talking, “Well Lyndsy, you have really only had one day here so far, so I haven’t had much time to observe you, and when I did, I am finding you quite hard to read.  You always seem content, pleasing, cooperative with the others.  I see a little brattiness coming out in you, especially with your interactions with Amy.  I’m okay with all that, as long as you both don’t get too carried away.  Can you look up at me Lyndsy?”  I didn’t raise my head right away, but after a bit I lifted it just enough to raise my eyes enough to look her way, but just for a brief second.  She didn’t push it, and continued, “Lyndsy, I know you are not sure about this whole place, and I do know you have never been spanked before, so that in itself is a huge head game for you I am sure.”  I looked up briefly at her again.  “I need to inform you that every Sunday, whether you need it or not, all of my tenants receive what I call a maintenance spanking.” 

“A what?”  I spoke as I looked toward her.  “A maintenance spanking.  It’s what I use to wipe the slate clean of anything that might have happened during the week.  It gives you a brand new week to work on, feeling free of anything that might be burdening you.”

“I don’t get it.  So, we don’t get spanked until Sundays?” I asked.

“No.  You get spanked on Sundays, true, but if you misbehave in a way that I feel needs correcting, I will be administering a punishment based on each individual situation.  So, it could be just Sunday’s, but there is a great possibility that it will happen during the week.  If you didn’t have things that needed correcting, or direction in, you wouldn’t be here, remember?”  I mumbled under my breath, “I wouldn’t be here if my neighbour wasn’t such a trouble maker.”  “What was that Lyndsy?”  “Oh, ahh, nothing.”  She just kind of looked at me, I could feel it, but I wasn’t giving in to look up.

Ms. Kane continued after a moment, “So, I will be observing you Lyndsy, and keeping an eye on things that could be of concern or needing adjustments.” 

“I think that’s just a little too weird.”  I was telling her that, but on the inside I was actually craving someone who actually would help me to break off some of the weight of this shell that I carried around.  I didn’t understand how spanking could do that, but I could see the fact that someone was aware of what I might be up to, and hold me accountable for once, might help me be able to make some adjustments to my attitude.  I knew I really didn’t have respect for my own life, and I was really tired of life in general, and holding it all together all the time, but maybe this avenue I came upon accidentally, well, not as my idea, might be worth the try.

“I understand your confusion Lyndsy.  But I also know that this is going to be good for you.  Today you will be getting a spanking, just a maintenance spanking, and it won’t be so hard as a punishment spanking, but it will hurt, and it will make you think.  You need to start to think about you, and my time with you will be focused on that.”  I still didn’t get it, and I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. 

Ms. Kane got up and came over to me, took the wooden puzzle I was fiddling with, took my hand and walked me over to her couch.  She turned and looked at me, “Lyndsy, remember, if I didn’t care about you or want to help you,” she lifted my chin so I had to look in her direction, “then I wouldn’t have you here in my home.  Please trust me with this, and believe that I will know what you can handle.  I will go slow, but it will still be a spanking.”  I was looking in her direction, but I wasn’t really seeing her.  I was shutting things off internally.  I didn’t want to face her, I didn’t believe she could actually care already.  So I wouldn’t look at her, and I shut down.  Apathy had taken over.  And I just rolled with the game.

“I’m going to take your jeans off Lyndsy, and then you will lay over my lap here on the couch.”  She proceeded to undo my button, and my hands automatically went to help.  “Hands at your sides.”  She undid the zipper and was pulling my pants down my hips, so I again, without thinking, went to help.  “Hands at your sides dear.  I will take them off.” 

Before I knew it, my pants were off and she was gently pulling me over her lap.  I stood back up, “Ahh, no.  Not going to happen.”  “Yes Lyndsy, it is.  Lay over my lap please.”  “Um, no.  It’s fine.  I get it.  But, no, it’s not going to happen, and I’m not lying over your lap.”  I replied.

“Lyndsy, Yes, it is, and Yes, you will.  You do not have a choice here.  Just do it, and we will get it over with.”   I looked towards her, but I didn’t see her face.  Fear was blocking out everything but the silhouette of a person.  I just stood there, not knowing how to react.  One side of me was craving the fact that someone was seriously taking over for a bit, trying to bring me in closer, and the other side of me was saying, no way, this is ridiculous, and you are too close to my space.  I felt her hand with more firmness on my arm, and it kind of made me more alert. 

She pulled me down slowly but firmly, adjusted my shirt as I laid over her lap, and started to talk again, “Now, just try and relax.”  Relax?  She really doesn’t know me!!  I can never relax unless I am sleeping or on anaesthetics!!!  “I am going to give you 5 spanks on each side, okay?”  I scrunched up my butt cheeks in preparation.  “No Lyndsy, relax them.”  I tried, but it was hard!  I felt her hand hit my left cheek.  Hmm.  Not so bad.  Then the right.  Okay.  That was all right.  Then she continued from one side to the other 4 more times.  “Lyndsy?”  I didn’t respond.  “Lyndsy, I am going to do another 5 on each cheek, and this time a little harder.”  She did as she said.  I wasn’t really feeling it, so I didn’t react.  She continued, but didn’t tell me how many she would do.  It was getting harder, I could feel that, but seriously, I was not feeling it uncomfortably.  She must have did another 25 on each cheek at least.  Then she asked me, “Lyndsy, are you feeling that?  Your bottom is very red, so it must be starting to hurt.”  “Ahhh.”  I didn’t know whether to admit I really didn’t feel it, or say yeah, it’s terrible, and maybe she would quit and I could get out of here.  So, I just shrugged my shoulders.  She pulled down my panties and then continued, and I’m sure another 25 or 30 must have been administered on each side.  And I could feel the impact by the way my body thrusted forward, but I really couldn’t appreciate what was supposed to be happening.

When she was done, she asked me to stand up.  I did, and started to pull up my panties.  She didn’t say not to, so I continued.  She did tell me to sit beside her.  “Did you even feel that Lyndsy?”  I shrugged again.  “Do you normally have a high tolerance to pain?”  I looked at her, briefly, “Yeah.  I guess I always have.”

“Well, I did not want to spank you more tonight.  That was sufficient for now.  We are going to work on this together, to try to get some of those protective walls down!  I can see we are going to have a bit of a difficult road ahead, but I have full confidence this is going to help you Lyndsy.”   She gave me a hug, and as she hugged me she told me to get dressed and go upstairs and see how I feel in a little while, and if I needed to talk that I was more than welcome to come down and do that.

I went upstairs, and didn’t want Amy to know that it never really physically affected me, so gave her a high five and smiled and said, “Guess it’s never too old to have a first spanking!!”  Which made her laugh, and that triggered me to laugh too.

I curled up in bed, trying to process what had just happened.  I did feel calmer in a weird way.  Almost like maybe I was safe here.  Maybe I needed to be here.  AND, for the first time in years, I didn’t need to find JD!!!   

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‘A Dreadful Error’ : Another great ‘What the Camera Saw’ entry

I love that a couple writers incorporated different genres in their entries to January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ . In ‘A Dreadful Error’, this bad boy is punished by both his mistress AND a male disciplinarian.
Enjoy!

–  Dana


A Dreadful Error


Mistress A was very angry with me! The pictures of her I had taken with my new camera phone had ended up on the Internet and were popping up on various tumblr sites. In vain I tried to explain that it had all been a terrible mistake, I probably should have read the instructions before attempting anything that wasn’t straightforward. However like many men I had assumed that instructions were unnecessary and had attempted to send the photos,direct from the phone to my computer, without reading them. Somehow I had posted them straight onto Facebook and although I had quickly deleted them it hadn’t been quick enough. I had never seen my Mistress so angry and I wondered what was going to happen. Would she banish me? I hoped not as I had been visiting her for a considerable length of time and enjoyed both the punishment sessions and her company in general. 

Unexpected Consequences

“Take your clothes off and stand in that corner with your hands on your head whilst I think about this” she said. As I hurriedly disrobed I felt both relief that she hadn’t just thrown me out and trepidation about what would follow.”Where’s your phone?” she said “In my jacket ” I replied, she found it and left the room. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only 10 minutes I heard her re-enter behind me. “Turn around” she said and I did so only to get a shock. With her was a man I had never seen before. I felt uncomfortable being exposed in this way in front of a complete stranger of the same sex.” This is Master James and he’s going to help me punish you and also help me film it, you either accept or leave forever”. I thought about it. I had never been punished by a man before and presumably I wouldn’t enjoy it which was clearly the idea. But what if I did enjoy it what would that mean?  Also what was she going to do with the film? In the end though I decided to go through with whatever she intended.
“This will be an extremely severe punishment carried out by myself and Master James. We will each punish you in turn and you will take it without excessive noise and thank both of us after each section, is that understood?”  “Yes Mistress” I replied ” Good then we will start with the hairbrush, get over my knees” I dutifully positioned my self over her lap and immediately felt the sting of the hair brush on my naked buttocks. It hurt and the pain increased as Mistress silently and rapidly laid on 50 strokes. “Thank you Mistress” I moaned ” Now get over Master James’ lap” she instructed and took the camera from him. Nervously I laid myself over his lap, what would this be like. It didn’t take long to find out as he brought the brush down on my bottom. The force was similar to that used by my Mistress but the feeling was entirely different. I was naked and being beaten by a man and I felt extremely vulnerable. 50 strokes later it was with some relief that I stood up. “The carpet beater next, I think” said Mistress “25 strokes each, what do you think?” The question was addressed to Master James. “Sounds good” he said with the hint of a smile flitting across his face.  “Bend over the desk” ordered Mistress and I hurried to obey. As I bent over Mistress approached and I realised she was coming in for a close up of my already red cheeks. Then handing the camera to Master James she picked up the carper beater and swished it ominously through the air. I trembled in anticipation, I knew from previous experience how painful the carpet beater was with its ability to combine the effects of both a cane and a paddle. With a thwack it impacted covering both cheeks with its wide head. I moaned softly but had little time to recover as immediately the next stroke hit. Could I take another 48 strokes like this? My buttocks already felt like they were on fire how would they feel by the end of this part of my, admittedly deserved, punishment. Moaning and groaning I managed to last through to the end of her section but I knew the strokes from Master James would continue to build the agony in my poor belaboured bottom. As she handed the carpet beater to him and took the camera I considered appealing for mercy but I knew it would do no good.The strokes from Master James rained down on my cheeks and upper thighs. “Stop wriggling” said Mistress and I tried to obey but I was nearing the limit of my endurance. Finally to my great relief the final stroke fell. “Thank you Master”  I said “I do like the carpet beater” Mistress said “it leaves such interesting weals” and she ran her hands over my bottom, to my horror Mister James then did the same and I shivered. “Right we will have a break before the final part of your punishment, Go and make us both a cup of tea, Master James takes it with milk and 2 sugars” Gingerly I made my way to the kitchen and still naked prepared 2 cups of tea. As I returned I saw Mistress still filming and Master James swishing a cane through the air. I handed them their tea and was ordered to go and stand in the corner whilst they drank it.As I stood there I could here them discussing my punishment and the state of my buttocks. I also reflected on the days events. Being punished by a man as well had changed the dynamic completely. I felt ashamed to be in this situation and had to admire the decision of my Mistress to include him as it had turned something I would have enjoyed normally into a proper punishment. How was it going to end though? I soon found out!

A Painful Conclusion


“Turn around” said Mistress A and I did so, both she and Master James were holding canes. “You are going to receive 36 strokes of the cane from us now, bend over the desk” As I bent over I saw Mistress putting the camera on a shelf from were it would film me being beaten without anyone holding it. She took up position on my left and Master stood to my right. The 1st stroke whirred down and the pain took my breath away but immediately I received another stroke from the other side. The rapid fire beating continued with virtually no time between each impact. It was excruciating but so fast that I couldn’t even catch my breath to moan. My legs were shaking and I knew that soon I would try to escape from the relentless  thrashing. Fortunately the punishment ended and I just about remembered to thank them both. I was ordered back into the corner and heard Mistress fiddling around with something. I realised she was downloading the film onto her computer. “Come over here” she said and I did so, taking a seat between them on the sofa. The film began and I blushed furiously as I watched my moaning, squirming and my increasingly welted cheeks. ” I’m going to keep this and if there are any further incidents or indiscretions from you I will post it on the Net” she said and Master James smirked. As I slowly got dressed I knew she didn’t need to worry, I had learned my lesson. In the future I was going to make absolutely certain I knew what I was doing before I put anything onto my computer. Walking away from her flat I was grateful that she had punished me and then forgiven me. I had endured a beating from another man and found it uncomfortable but bearable. I knew that I would have to think about my feelings about that in more depth. So with plenty to ponder I started the long journey home.
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DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update: 2/24

His Spencer Paddle Lesson
SpencerPaddleLesson1
Punished : Out of Control Spending

PunishedOutControlSpending1For more preview photos, scene descriptions, and download links, click the Title links above, or visit:
HERE

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‘Caught, Strapped, Trapped!’ : Fantastic Spanking Story!

January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ was an excellent idea, if I do say so myself. Without it, we wouldn’t have the great good fortune to enjoy ‘Caught, Strapped, Trapped’ – a story of a naughty boy taught a hard lesson, with long-term repercussions.

 – Dana


Caught, Strapped, Trapped!


I could not believe what I was seeing.  It was the stuff of my most secret and shameful erotic fantasies.  And I was catching it on video!  Ohhh…the naughty things I would be doing later in the privacy of my male debauchery.  But that was for later.  Right now, the most important thing was to keep the camera running.  Keep the camera running and keep the sizzling images filling up my phone’s memory chip.  It was all just so hot!
It was the loud smacking sounds that first drew my attention to my neighbor’s window.  I had merely been taking out the trash.  But upon walking back towards my door, I heard a sharp and distinct, “THWACK!” It was followed almost immediately by a gasping feminine squeal.  Then another “KA-SMACK!”, and another muffled, but distinctly female gasp and moan.  Intrigued and unable to simply keeping walking and minding my own business, I quickly and surreptitiously sidled over towards my neighbor’s house.  The unusual mélange of sounds seemed to be emanating from a first floor window which was open just a couple of inches above the pane.  Drawing closer, I could not resist trying to peek into the window, even though I knew I should not.  Little did I know at the time the price I would ultimately pay for my breach of neighborly discretion.
Slowly, quietly, I crept through the flower bed beneath the window and went up on my toes to have a secret glance inside.  Through the bottom of the open window and between the flaps of the curtains fluttering in the breeze, I was flabbergasted, yet immediately aroused at the unlikely vision that met my prying eyes.  Almost without conscious thought, my hand flew to my cell phone, activated the camera function and flipped it into video record mode.  Because there before my eyes was a sight I thought I would never see.  Not in person, anyhow.  Although I had certainly spent enough Internet time looking at similar scenes on F/F spanking fetish websites.  Carefully aiming my camera phone lens, my suddenly voyeuristic self secretly began to watch – and record – as my gorgeous female neighbor applied a thick leather strap to the bare buttocks of another, equally beautiful and totally naked young woman.  Girl punishing girl, just like in so many of my illicit erotic imaginings.  But it was happening for real.  My hot, sexy neighbor was spanking another girl!  Right before my very own disbelieving eyes.  And before the wonderfully unblinking eye of my phone’s video camera, too.  Oh my!
KER-ACCK, WHACK, SMACK!!  My neighbor was really laying the strap hard across the perfect, jiggling globes of her roommate’s gloriously bare ass cheeks.  I could see them blushing red and hot as the strap fell with brisk, sharp strokes of nude discipline.  Between the loud cracks of the strap on bare tender bottom flesh, I could hear snippets of stern lecture and contrite pleas for mercy.  But it certainly appeared as though the lecture was winning the day and the pleas for leniency were falling on deaf ears.  Because Clara, the neighbor I had briefly exchanged friendly greetings with in past, continued to belabor the now red-hot buttocks of her naked…friend? Roommate?  I was not really sure who the nude girl receiving the hard strapping was, but I had seen her enter my neighbor’s home several times in the past few days.  And my neighbor Clara, fully dressed in shiny black boots, slender white slacks and loose, billowy blouse, was administering some very strict corporal punishment to her poor, bare backside.  What a glorious sight to behold, I thought, admiring the girl’s plump and bright red buttocks and feeling the familiar stirring in my loins that such sights invariably produced.  Silently, I congratulated myself for catching it on film.  Not to mention in pure, secret, first-hand witness.
Now though, after a series of five or more particularly hard strokes of the leather strap, accompanied by loud squeals, yelps and pleas from the punished girl, Clara’s strap dangled motionless in her hand.
I kept my camera running and carefully tried to move even closer to the window.  Clara was saying something and I really wanted to hear what it was.  I was eager to learn more details about what was transpiring.  The better to fuel my masculine misbehaviors later, of course.
Clara seemed to be saying something to the nude squirming girl, but I could only make out an occasional word.  “Victoria”, I heard Clara say, so that must be the name of the girl being punished.  Then I heard something along the lines of “stay in that position now”, and something else about “fetching my paddle”, maybe?  I was not quite sure, but that was what it sounded like, anyhow.  Regardless though, Clara did leave the room.  So I feasted myself, and my phone camera, on the illicitly erotic sight of nude Victoria.  Her pert and perfect little bottom was all bright red and clearly bearing marks from the hard strapping.  Her slender and lovely body was draped sinuously over the soft high arm of Clara’s plush sofa.  Victoria was positioned such that I could see her entire nude and punished glory in profile.  Her head was faced to my left, but turned away from me, into the cushions of the sofa.  Her glowing bottom was up high over the end of the sofa and her dainty little toes were just barely touching the floor to my right.  Draped across the small of her perfectly dimpled back was the broad leather strap that most recently had been biting so cruelly into the tender flesh of her bare bottom.  What an exquisitely lovely discipline tableaux she presented, I thought.  How exciting it was going to be to review all this lovely, naughty footage later, too.
Just as I was indulging myself in such thoughts though, I was suddenly and cruelly startled from my reverie by a loud and indignant feminine voice directly in my ear…
“Just what in the hell do you think you are doing?  Peeking in my window, you disgusting little pervert?  I thought I heard something out here.  What is that, a camera phone?”
I was so stunned, surprised and ashamed that, as I started to back away from the window, I slipped in the soft soil of the flower bed I had been trampling in my voyeuristic ecstasy.  But as I put out my hand to soften the fall, Clara deftly snatched my phone from my flailing fingers.
I ended up in a tangled heap among the crushed flowers, looking up at a very beautiful, very angry and extremely hostile Clara.  She glared down at me in silence and quickly reviewed the video content of my phone.  “You pathetic, vile little man,” she said.  “Clumsy, juvenile pervert.  You were peeping in my window and making a little home movie of our punishment session, huh?  Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?  What’s your name again?  Frederick, right?  Yes…I have seen your little leering looks at Victoria and I.  But I had no idea you were a criminal little lecher.”
“Clara!, who is this guy,?” Victoria suddenly screeched from the open window.  She had taken refuge behind the curtain to regain some modesty, but her pretty face was blushing hotly and she too was obviously very angry.  “What is he doing there?  Was he…was he watching us??”, she asked, clearly horrified at the notion of having been observed as she was punished.  “Oh my God!”
“Just a moment, Vicki,” Clara replied.  And then, to me, she said, “You!  Get your sorry little ass into my house this moment.  Unless, of course, you would like me to call the police and report you as a filthy, pervert, sex-offender peeping-Tom.  I have no problem showing them the evidence in your little phone here, Frederick.  But how do you feel about that?”
At that, I finally found my voice.  I had been stymied into dumbfounded silence by my swift and utterly comprehensive discovery in the act of illicit filming.  But now, sensing the dreadful precariousness of my situation, I managed to stammer out a halting, “Ummm…I am so sorry, Clara.  Really.  I apologize.  I just could not help…”
“Shut up, Frederick, and get your ass in the house.  Oh, and by the way, that is Miss Clara to you, you filthy little recalcitrant.  You better remember that!”
Awkwardly getting to my feet, I attempted to brush myself off, only to feel a swift kick from Clara planted directly to my soil smeared pant’s seat.  She had literally just kicked my ass.  Thus, thoroughly subdued and so very busted in my voyeuristic little antics, I meekly obeyed.  Clara gave me an additional push and I trudged like a condemned man to the door of her elegant home.
Coming up behind me, Clara reached past, opened the door and firmly shoved me into the homey confines of her nicely appointed kitchen.  She continued pushing me, and by this time I was way too cowed to resist her.  In a moment, she had me backed into a corner of the kitchen.  “Now turn around, Frederick,” she said.  “Face that corner and don’t you dare move until I tell you to.  Otherwise, the police will be on the way here in moments.  Do you understand me?”
I could feel my face blushing brightly at being treated like such naughty little boy, but I was very much frightened by the legal consequences of any protest, so I simply said, “Yes, Miss Clara,” and did as I was told.
“Very good, Frederick,” she replied.  “Maybe we will be able to work this out after all.  Now just stay there and continue to do as I tell you.”
With that, Miss Clara strode off purposefully into the next room.  Distantly, I heard her say, “Vicki, you and I will continue this later.  Run and get dressed.  We have a serious matter to deal with.  Together.”
From my kitchen corner, I heard a delighted little giggle from Victoria, who only moments before had almost been sobbing from her bare-assed punishment.  But then I heard her bare feet slapping down the hall to what I presumed to be a bedroom.  Almost immediately, Miss Clara then called me out of the corner.
“OK, Frederick, you sorry-ass little Peeping-Tom.  Come here.”
Feeling as though I had little choice in the matter, I silently shuffled into the other room where Clara stood waiting.  “Sit, Frederick.  Right here on the sofa.  You and Vicki and I are going to have a little talk about what you have done.”
My head hanging in shame and unable to look Miss Clara in the eye, I padded over to the little sofa and sat down as instructed.  All I could think about was how stupid I had been.  How overcome with foolish lust to see a real, live Female/Female spanking.  And now I was caught!  Miss Clara had my phone, the video evidence and had caught me red-handed and red-faced.  If she called the police as she had threatened, would I go to jail?  At the very least I would be utterly shamed, branded a sexual pervert and face a life-time of recrimination from all who knew me.  What was I going to do?
“Miss Clara…I am so sorr…,” I began.  But I was interrupted with a terse and forceful, “Shut up, Frederick.  I don’t want to hear it and it is really Vicki that you need to apologize to.  Not that I will allow her to accept any lame apology from the likes of you though.  So just shut up.  I don’t want to hear another word from you unless you are asked a question.  Or we can just call the police now.”
As that dire thought ran through my head, Vicki came back into the room.  She had only put on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, but she looked so cheerful and full of glee.  Moments ago she had been naked and turned ass-up beneath a very strict punishment strap.  But all that seemed to be quickly forgotten now.  How could she seem so happy now, I wondered.
But I was quickly brought back into the moment when Miss Clara announced, “Frederick, this is my new roommate Vicki.  She will be Miss Victoria to you at all times though, understood?”
Without waiting for a response, she continued.  “Since you obviously could not wait to be properly introduced to Miss Victoria and had to resort to peeping in our windows as I was punishing her, I thought a formal introduction to now be in order.  After all, it will be up to Miss Victoria to decide how you shall be punished for your egregious behavior.
“P-P-Punished, Miss Clara?,” I stammered, only to be cut off with a harsh glare and swift reprimand.  “What did I tell you about speaking again, Frederick?  Do you really want us to call the police so badly that you cannot even follow a simple instruction?”
Smiling broadly as I frantically shook my head back and forth in a desperate negative gesture,  Miss Clara continued.  “Yes, Frederick, punished.  You need to be punished for your behavior.  Now either we can call the police now and leave the punishment up to the authorities, or we can settle this now.  Just you, me and Miss Victoria.  You decide, Frederick.”
Oh my God!  My head swirled.  What was she saying?  Was there a really a way out of this predicament without involving all the legal consequences and shame of being caught out as a Peeping-Tom?  But…but…but what kind of “punishment” would settle this with Miss Clara & Miss Victoria?  I began to have a dreadful intimation of what they had in mind.  This might explain Miss Victoria’s sudden transformation from punishment to glee?  Uh oh…
“You may speak now, Frederick,” Miss Clara said.  “Tell us your decision.  I want you to say either, please call the police now, Miss Clara.  Or…please punish me now, Miss Victoria and Miss Clara.  What’s it going to be, Frederick?”
“Oh no!  Oh no!  Oh no!,” I thought.  “Punished by these two pissed off women?”  I had seen how hard Clara used the strap on Victoria.  And Victoria’s predatory glee looked like she really relished administering, rather than receiving, more strict naked punishment.  Oh God…were they going to make me be naked, too?  In front of both of them?  And actually spank or strap me??  Oh…how did I ever get myself into this situation? But of course I couldn’t let them call the police…
So…with my heart sinking into my belly and with dreadful butterflies churning within, I squeaked out a timid little…”Please punish me now, Miss Victoria and Miss Clara.”
At this, Miss Victoria giggled again.  With obvious glee and a truly mischievous smile on her pretty face.  But Miss Clara was not quite satisfied.
“Good decision,” Frederick, she said.  “But your request was NOT good enough.  Get up off that couch, go over to Miss Victoria.  Kneel before her and apologize for your behavior.  Then I want you to, very clearly and audibly, ask her to punish you for what you did.  Then you will come over here and do the same with me.  Understood, Frederick?”  Do it now, or the deal is off!”
“Oh no,” I thought.  “Kneel before her?”  But I really had no choice anymore.  We had kind of made a deal, I guess.  No police, no peeping Tom record.  But I had to submit to their punishment.  Unnnghhh!  Maybe if I just played along with them, this could all be over soon.
Trying to regain any modicum of masculine dignity still to be salvaged from this situation, I decided to just do as they said and hope to get through it quickly.  But as I was soon to find out, the girls had other thoughts on this.  Hoping for the best though, I just did what they wanted.  I walked directly to Miss Victoria and knelt humbly on the floor before her.  Trying to sound as confident as possible under the conditions, I recited the required plea.  “Miss Victoria, I am terribly sorry for peeking in the window.  I know it was very wrong of me to film with my phone, too.  Would you please punish me for this now, so hopefully I can be forgiven?”
I figured I would try to be as contrite as possible in hopes of winning some leniency.  But even though I tried to sound as sincere and humble as I could manage, Miss Victoria’s reply made me squirm and cringe with dread.
“Well, well, well now.  Frederick, is it?”, she asked.  “How…ummm…nice to meet you.  Kneeling before little ole me and asking to be punished.” At this, she giggled once again.  Then she continued, “Well OK then, Frederick.  Sure, I will punish you.  You have been a VERY naughty boy, after all.  Peeping in our window and seeing me naked.  Seeing me being spanked my Miss Clara, too.  And trying to film the entire thing?  Oh….you nasty little boy, you.  You DO need to be punished, to be sure.”
Then, turning to Miss Clara, Miss Victoria asked her, “Can we film it, too, Miss Clara?  Make him get totally naked and then use his own phone to record his punishment?  Can we, can we, please??  It only seems right, don’t you think?”
Hearing Miss Victoria ask this, my heart sank even further at the humiliating prospect.  Especially when I looked at Miss Clara and saw the wicked smile spreading across her pretty face.  “What a splendid idea, Miss Victoria,” she replied.  “I think that is exactly what pervy little Frederick deserves.  Do you agree, Frederick?,” she asked.  “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, don’t they say?”
“ummm….ummm….,” was all I could manage to say.  The stark reality of their intentions – to make me strip naked and then to punish me, in all likelihood with the same strap I had seen being used on Miss Victoria, or more, even – was fully sinking in.
But Miss Clara apparently did not really expect an answer as she continued with a deep chortling tone of amusement, “Come on Frederick.  Come over here.  Kneel before me now, and beg me to record your punishment on video with your own phone.”
I felt utterly trapped and filled with intense humiliation and dread.  But what could I do other than comply?
But then Miss Clara, apparent sadist that she is, made it infinitely worse.  “But first, Frederick, I think you should be naked for this.  Strip off all your clothes.  That’s right.  Pants, shirt, socks shoes and, of course, your underwear, too.  Then, when you are suitably nude, come beg me for your punishment.”
Smiling with sweet, evil glee at Miss Victoria, she added, “I think Miss Victoria would like to see this…”
A swift glance over at Miss Victoria confirmed this in no uncertain terms.  Her head was bobbing up and down and a huge happy smile beamed across her face.  I could tell she was really into this and was thoroughly enjoying my humiliation.  Not to mention the prospect of punishing me along with her friend.  But what could I do?
So I stripped.  Completely.  Blushing hotly as I took off my clothes, I obediently folded them and placed them on a chair when directed by Miss Clara to do so.  To my horror, I felt myself stiffening once I was completely naked before the two women.  Why did that have to happen?  How could my treacherous body betray me like that?  I only hoped they wouldn’t notice…
I summoned up my best humility (which was quite easy by this point) and knelt fully nude before Miss Clara.  “Miss Clara, I am truly sorry that I spied on you and Miss Victoria.  I know it was wrong and I ask that you…the both of you…please punish me for it.  And…ummm…well…please use my phone to film the punishment too, Ma’am.”
To my absolute mortification and to their obvious feminine mirth, my stupid little ** became fully ** as I knelt in embarrassment and asked these women to punish me for my behavior.  Both of them started laughing and Miss Victoria actually pointed, “Look Clara, his little **.  Do you think this naughty boy is excited to be punished by us?  Hahahaha!”
To which Miss Clara ominously replied, “Never mind that, Vicki, we will soon spank some sense into him, won’t we?  I doubt his little thing will be so impertinent after a few hard swats of the paddle across his ass.”

Then she said to me, “Well let’s get started Frederick.  I want you draped over the end of that sofa exactly as Miss Victoria was when you so impudently decided to peek into our window.  We will just see how much you like being punished.  And watched.  And filmed. Ha!”
“Vicki,” she continued, “why don’t you take the strap.  I will get my paddle.  You can start while I film with his camera.  Then we can switch places.”
As this conversation about the horrible details of their punishment intentions seared itself it my reeling mind, I numbly obeyed Miss Clara’s instructions.  With awkward embarrassment about my stupid ***, I gingerly laid myself across the high arm of the “punishment” sofa.  Assuming the identical position I had found so exciting to see Miss Victoria occupy.  But despite the shameful display of inappropriate physical arousal, I certainly did not feel anything sexy about the situation at this point.  Miss Clara had produced a hard, wooden, Spencer-type paddle, complete with air holes and had laid it on the coffee table.  Its menacing gleam looked as though it was really going to polish my poor bare ass, lifted up so invitingly and vulnerable over the end of the sofa.
But before I had to worry about the paddle, I saw the dangerously smiling Miss Victoria approaching with the thick leather punishment strap that had so thoroughly reddened her own sweet bottom.  As Miss Clara picked up my phone and activated the video camera, Miss Victoria gave a menacing little chuckle.  “Well hello, Frederick.  How do you like the looks of this nice little strap now?  You obviously liked seeing Miss Clara use it on me.  Exactly like I am going to enjoy using it on you!”
“Ku-THWACK!”
Miss Victoria had lifted the strap up high and brought it down across both cheeks of my bare, upturned ass with a resounding swat.  “YOWWWW!”
I had intended to be stoic.  But I could not believe how much that hurt, the leather sending hot stings of pain in a broad swath across my poor buttocks. Miss Victoria might be a petite beauty, but she could certainly swing a dreadfully strict & mean punishment strap.
“Ka-WHACK!”  Miss Victoria delivered another hard stroke of the strap across my ass.  This time I was almost able to suppress another cry of pain, uttering only a little “unnnghhh!” as I buried my face in the soft cushions of the sofa.  Then again…
Ker-ACCCK!   Ku-SMACCCK!  THU-WHACCCK!  Miss Victoria continued in earnest, bringing the hot leather strap down across my buttocks over and over again.  My hands clinched the sofa cushions and I pulled my face down deep into them, almost as if I thought I could escape into the sofa and get away from the horrid, stinging hive of bees attacking my poor butt cheeks.
But to no avail.  Miss Victoria continued to deliver very hard strokes and licks of her wicked leather strap across my ass.  I was sure it must be glowing bright red by this time and probably getting all swollen and puffy as well.  But if I had thought Miss Clara had been using the strap strictly on Miss Victoria earlier, it was painfully clear to my poor ass that Miss Victoria intended to make it even worse for me!  Again and again and then again the strap rose and fell.  I forgot all about the video phone, the earlier girl-on-girl discipline I had seen.  My previous silly ** wilted into a little peanut against the arm of the sofa.  My entire world was reduced to Thwack, after crack, after smack of thick whippy leather biting into the tender flesh of my red hot burning buttocks. Miss Victoria laid the sizzling strokes high on the butt cheeks, right across the middle and most agonizingly across the lower buttocks and top of the thighs, too.  YOWWEEEE!
Finally, after what seemed like at least 50 hard strokes of the strap across my ass, Miss Victoria stopped.  I thought, “thank God!” I did not think I could take any more.  My ass was on fire and the skin of my tortured buttocks felt stretched thin and tight. But Miss Victoria was not done.  “Get up Frederick,” she said.
Slowly, gingerly, the flesh of my punished buttocks feeling as though it might crack right off my poor ass, I stood as instructed.  My ass was radiating heat and my hands instinctively went to investigate.  But before they even got there, Miss Victoria slapped my smoking ass with her bare hand.  “No touching, Frederick!  No rubbing, no smoothing, no nothing.  You are being punished, remember?”
By this point, I was reduced to blind obedience.  Anything to just get through this punishment ordeal and get safely out of here!  So I did not touch, did not rub.  When told to face away from the camera, bend over and display my crimson ass to the lens, I simply did as I was told.  When told to turn around so the camera could also witness the completely flaccid state of my genitalia, I did that as well.  Although my face did blush bright red to match my ass at this particularly unnecessary humiliation.
Then, when told by Miss Victoria to get back over the arm of the sofa, but this time facing the other way, I just kind of looked at her dumbly.  “I am not done with you, Frederick.  You spied on me.  When I was naked.  When I was being punished privately.  Privately!  And you recorded it on video without anyone’s permission.  So I am not done with you yet.”
She then directed me to put my feet on the sofa cushions and to drape my head and shoulders over the end of the sofa arm.  This left me supporting my upper body on my extended arms reaching down to the floor.  My ass was once again up in the air, a hot punished set of buttocks once again presented for her strap.

Miss Victoria wasted no idle time, either.  She started lashing my ass with the strap once again.  This time laying the hot fiery stripes in the other direction across my cherry buttocks.  Miss Victoria proceeded to give me an almost equal – or who knows by this point – maybe it was more, strokes of the strap across my ass.  All I know is my arms were soon straining with exertion and my already punished ass was taken to new and dreadful levels of pain beneath her expertly administered discipline.  Who would have known, after seeing her on the receiving end, that she would be so devastatingly effective with the strap in her own hands?
But finally, after about 10 particularly nasty hard strokes, Miss Victoria stopped.  I was gasping and moaning and my arms were shaking to maintain the awkward position.  I struggled to turn and look at her.  I was deeply concerned she might start up on me again.  But when I managed to get a glimpse of her from my ungainly position, I was astonished at how incredibly beautiful she looked.  Even with my ass on fire, my arms and shoulders sore and aching from the position I was struggling to maintain and still in full naked humiliation, of course, there was no denying her feminine allure.  Miss Victoria’s t-shirt was damp with perspiration and clinging to her lithe form.  There was also a dewy sheen on her brow and sensuous upper lip and she was breathing heavily from the exertion of administering my punishment.  Even in my horribly compromising and shameful predicament, I was struck by how gorgeous she looked.  I even felt my thoroughly shriveled ** begin to respond to her beauty as well.  So I immediately tried to desperately think of something else.  I did not want this noticed and mocked yet again!
But this time it was Miss Clara who spoke.  She had been silent throughout my strapping, apparently focusing on recording the punishing event on my cell phone camera.  “Get up, Frederick,” she commanded.  “Go back into the kitchen and stand in your corner.  Face to the wall.  And remember what Miss Victoria said about no touching or rubbing.  It will be even worse for you if you disobey.  Now go!  You need some corner time to reflect on your behavior and punishment.  And Miss Victoria and I have something to discuss.”
Struggling to get up from my position, I just kind of slid sideways off the end of the sofa arm.  Crumpling into a naked heap on the floor, the feel of the rough carpet on my punished buttocks elicited a shrill, “Yowww!” But not wanting to attract anymore of the ladies’ strict attentions, I quickly scurried into the kitchen and immediately planted my face deep into the corner as instructed.  No touching.  No rubbing.  I wanted no part of any additional punishment from these girls!  Naked corner time, as humiliating as it was, was far preferable to anymore of that strap.  Or Miss Clara’s ominous paddle!
So there I stood, face in the kitchen corner.  My blazing bare ass on display and my hands cupped in front of me, hiding my genitals.  Though of course nobody was looking anyhow.  Oh…how I wanted to rub some of the soreness from my poor bottom.  But I dare not, fearing Miss Clara might look in on me.
My thoughts were quickly interrupted by loud peals of feminine laughter though.  The girls were giggling loudly, but conversing in low tones that I could not overhear.  Apparently they were reviewing the damn video of my punishment!  Because occasionally I could hear the crack of the strap come from the phone, followed by a laugh or exclamation of some sort.  They seemed to be pointing out amusing aspects of the scenes to each other.  How humiliating!
After a couple of interminable minutes of this nude shame standing in the corner, the laughing and phone noises stopped.  All I could hear was a low murmur from the ladies, but I could not make out any words, strain as I might.  They apparently conversed about something before finally coming to some sort of agreement.  For at long last I heard Miss Clara call out, telling me to come back into the room with them.
Both Miss Clara and Miss Victoria were sitting on the sofa, side by side.  My phone, the leather strap and Miss Clara’s wooden paddle were situated on the coffee table before them.  I was told to stand in front of them, on the other side of the low table.  Picking up the phone, Miss Clara ordered me to turn around and bend over.  “Just like that, Frederick,” she said.  “Hands on your knees and your ass pushed back.  I need to snap a couple of still shots of your red ass with your camera phone.”
Blushing hotly once again, I did as Miss Clara instructed.  I heard the inevitable clicks as she took pictures of my punished rear end, feeling fresh embarrassment as she recorded the images for whatever sort of posterity she had in mind.
Miss Clara then informed me that she thought Miss Victoria had punished me sufficiently for my peeping-tom transgressions.  So I would not have to endure her paddle…right now, anyhow.
But then she continued, “So little Frederick, my nosy next door neighbor boy, you found out about my little dark side, didn’t you?  You peeked through my window uninvited and saw me disciplining Miss Victoria.  I bet that surprised you, now didn’t it?  But you see, Frederick, Miss Victoria had misbehaved and she needed to be disciplined.  Just like you misbehaved and needed to be disciplined.  And this is part of the reason why Miss Victoria is my new roommate here.  Because I am a Female Disciplinarian and, well, Miss Victoria needs strict discipline on occasion.  So we thought co-habitation might prove mutually beneficial, so to speak.  Isn’t that right, Vicki?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Miss Victoria quipped pertly.
“But this was private information, Frederick,” Miss Clara went on.  A very private arrangement between Miss Victoria and myself.  Nobody else.  Yet you peeped your nosy little self into our window and discovered it.  Worse still, you tried to record it on video without our permission.  Who knows what you might have done with it then?  Our little private lifestyle could have been broadcast all over the internet by now, for all we know.”
“Oh no, Miss Clara…I would neve…,” I tried to protest, still standing naked in front of the two fully clothed women.  But Miss Clara cut me off mid-sentence.  “Quiet, Frederick.  I am still speaking to you.  The point is, we would have no way of knowing what you would or wouldn’t have done with your illicit little video.  Although judging from your little bodily reactions, we can both guess the first thing you would have done, if you had managed to get away with it.”
This last comment elicited another little giggle from Miss Victoria, as well as a pointed stare at my hands, which were still cupped in front of me in a rather silly attempt at modesty.  But Miss Clara took no notice as she said, “The point is, pervy Frederick, that it is pretty clear that you too have a rather unhealthy interest in our domestic discipline lifestyle.  This being the case, Miss Victoria and I have discussed your case and have decided to help you.”
“Ummmm…help me, Miss Clara?  I…I…I don’t understand…” I squeaked.
“That’s right, Frederick.  We are going to help you.  We are going to help you turn this unhealthy interest of yours into something more wholesome and beneficial.  We are going to cure your secret little perversion by bringing it out into the open.  We are going to allow you to participate in our lifestyle.  But not in a secret, peeping tom fashion.  No.  Instead, we are going to see that you are regularly and soundly disciplined.  Just like you were today.  So there will be no more need for you to creep around and peek in unsuspecting windows.  Now, you will have a regular outlet for your spanking interests.  But as our subject.  Not as some pervy little uninvited voyeur.  Isn’t that wonderful?”
“But…but…but…I don’t want to be spank…spanked any more, Miss Clara.  I just wanted to watch.”
Even to me, this sounded pretty pathetic and pervy, I can admit now.  But at the time, the thought of being punished by these girls again was a horrifying prospect!  The shame, the humiliation, the nude exposure.  Not to mention the pure ass-blistering pain of it all!
But Miss Clara breezed right on as if discussing the merits of a healthy diet or some such.  “Awww….isn’t that cute, Vicki?  Frederick doesn’t want to be spanked anymore.  Isn’t that just a damn shame?” To which, of course, Miss Victoria responded with another throaty chuckle and direct look at my nude form, still standing before them both like a chastised little school boy.
Miss Clara laughed and looked me up and down once again as well, before continuing.  “Well that is too bad, Frederick.  Because you will be spanked again.  And as often as we decide it is necessary, too.  In fact, you will report here tomorrow evening.  You have a date with my paddle.  Because Miss Victoria was so thorough with her strapping, I have decided to let you put off the paddling you deserve.  But you violated my privacy today as well as hers.  So you still need to be punished by me.  You should be thanking me for letting you put it off until tomorrow, rather than bending you over right this very moment, understand?”
Even though my mind was protesting furiously at the idea that these women thought they could now administer corporal punishment to me whenever they wanted to, something within me fortunately had the presence of mind to respond with, “Yes, Miss Clara, thank you, Ma’am.” But I could not believe these women really thought I would just change into their docile little male spank-pet.  Just because I had peeked in their window on a moment of inadvertent impulse.  No way!  I may be playing along with them right now.  Yes, Ma’am.  No Ma’am.  Yes, Miss Clara…blah, blah blah.  But there was no way this was going to continue.
Yet once again, as it seemed I had at almost every turn on this fateful day, I miscalculated.  Miss Clara, evidently sensing the rebellion in my mind, proceeded to remind me, “We have your cell phone, Frederick.  We have the video of all that transpired here today.  Not to mention the still shots of your nicely strapped ass.  Haha!  So just in the event you might be thinking of being reluctant to join in our little arrangement here, please imagine what will become of the contents of your little phone should you choose to refuse our kind offer of assistance with your…ummm…little problem.  Can you say “Internet spanking star?”
“My little problem?,” my brain screamed silently.  My problem?  “Internet spanking star?!”  What a conniving, manipulative bitch!  I bet she set this whole thing up, just to get a boy for these two devious sadists to work out on.  How could I have fallen for this?
But of course I said nothing of the sort.  It was obvious to me that I had no choice but to return the follow evening to be paddled by Miss Clara.  Unnnghh!!  I was trapped and I knew it.
Silence reigned in the room for several moments.  Miss Clara, clever bitch that she was, was apparently allowing the reality of my situation to sink in.  She simply sat there, holding my phone in her hand and looking at me.  Miss Victoria, not even trying to suppress her gleeful smirk, just looked at me too.  After a couple of moments, I once again became acutely aware of my nakedness in front of these two clothed women.  I just wanted to get dressed and get the hell out of there.  Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow, I thought.
At length, Miss Clara finally broke the heavy silence.  “So, its settled then, Frederick.  You will report here tomorrow evening at 7:30 p.m.  Sharp!  I don’t think I need to warn you about the consequences of being tardy, now do I?  Meanwhile, Miss Victoria and I will hold onto your cell phone so we can safely store the evidence it contains in a secure place.  Upon your dismissal tomorrow evening, we will return your phone to you.  In immaculate condition, I might add.  Free of any perverse, voyeuristic taint it might now contain.”
Miss Clara then smiled broadly and even warmly at me.  Knowing she had successfully closed the jaws of her trap and that her prey was now completely subject to her not-so-tender mercies, all previous anger and strict demeanor melted away like spring snow.  Strangely enough, even I felt better, in some odd, inexplicable way.  I knew I had no choice.  I would have to return tomorrow and submit to her paddle.  Most likely with Miss Victoria watching with undisguised delight and probably participating in some fashion as well.  But despite my tortured ass, despite my nude exposure, despite all that had happened, it suddenly did not seem so horribly awful anymore.  I mean, yes, I would likely be paddled very hard tomorrow.  On top of my already strapped ass which was sure to still be hurting.  But I would get to spend time with these two gorgeous, if dreadfully strict, ladies.  There would be some nudity, though probably only on my part.  There might even be some arousal as, truth be told, I was starting to feel the erotic element of being totally nude and at the mercy of Miss Clara and Miss Victoria.  What did they call that?  Clothed Female, Naked Male or CFNM, or some such?  Heck, I even started liking the fact they made me call them by those names.  Something very strange had apparently been triggered in my erotic psyche.  I still dreaded my return visit tomorrow, but now I somehow wanted to return, too.
As these, and other mixed thoughts of both dread and desire started to infuse my mind (and my penis, still mercifully hidden behind my cupped hands), Miss Clara said softly, “Go ahead and get dressed now, Frederick.  You are dismissed.”

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‘Eleven Letters’ : Another excellent ‘What the Camera Saw’ contest entry

‘Eleven Letters’ is yet another example of the writing creativity shown in January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ . This poor husband shares the rundown of his shameful video…

Enjoy!

–  Dana



Eleven Letters (a story of discipline)


The following is a work of fiction. Names have not been changed, so as to implicate the guilty. That would be me.

I’m going to show you a video and tell you a story. Let’s start with the story…

One afternoon when the kids were away, my wife called me into the bedroom. She held a wooden hairbrush. Her new cellphone, a Nokia 920, was propped up on the bedside table. She reached over and fiddled with the phone’s camera button. Want to watch the video?

00:00:02 sec
Do you know why you’re being punished?

Yes.

Well, tell me.

Our house has a whiteboard. It’s the type found in meeting rooms and well-organized homes the world ever. You write on it with erasable markers.

00:00:07 sec

Because I didn’t do the dishes.

And…?

And I didn’t take the trash out.

We have an agreement about that, don’t we?

Yes ma’am.


Usually this board has little notes about the time of the next PTA meeting, a phone number or two, a grocery list and reminders about soccer practice. It’s a very ordinary board.

00:00:25 sec

Why is your phone over there?

You’ll see.

Are you filming this?

Pants off mister…underpants too.

Do I have to?

Well of course, sweetie. You know that. Silly boy.

I was soon to find out just how remarkable this board when combined with a cellphone camera and a hairbrush could be.

00:00:32
Over my lap. Now!

It turned out to be eleven little letters on that whiteboard that sealed my fate, but more about that later. Back to my wife, her hairbrush and me. The first slap always hurts the most, and we’re just about there.

00:00:36
So sweetie, we’ve had this problem over and over, and we need to address it. Today, I’m going to put a stop to it. This will hurt quite a bit.
SLAP!!!!

See? There was no warm up. I’ll bet you can feel it too.

00:00:37
SLAP, SLAP
And usually, when I’d stop….
SLAP, SLAP
…I’m going to keep going.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.

The first letter she wrote on the board was a “D”  and I’m ashamed to say it was a mere three days after the spanking.

00:01:18 sec
So you’re right—I am filming this with my camera phone. Want to know why?

Letters “H” through “I” came all in the space of 38 hours. I blame golf and David’s birthday party.

00:02:01
We’re going to try something with our whiteboard—you know, the one in the kitchen….
SLAP!
by the dishes…
SLAP, SLAP
…you didn’t do.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP!!
Let’s call it an incentive program….
SLAP!!
To remind you to do your chores.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP!!!
Whew, this is quite the workout…. So here’s how it works: Each time you “forget” to do a chore, I put a letter on the board…
SLAP!!
…and it’s going to spell out a phrase. And when it’s done, I’m going to email the video I’m making of this spanking to five of my closest friends.

00:02:13
I’m going to blister your bottom. Actual blisters.

At this point in the spanking, I’m barely holding on, hardly able to stay on her lap, snot running out my nose, hyperventilating. It is not pretty. Back to the video:

00:04:14

OWWWWWWW!!! Stop, stop. Please stop!!!!


00:05:01
My, your ass is red. That’s what happens to husbands who don’t do their share of the chores.

I honestly don’t think I deserved the “S”.

00:09:36
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP!!!

The second “H” I did deserve.

00:12:49
So your punishment isn’t over.

It isn’t?

No honey, it isn’t. Remember the camera phone? If you don’t learn from this lesson, that video is being sent out….Just think….five of my friends…and no, I won’t tell you which ones, will see you like this…

SLAP!

They’ll all see you here—red bottom, crying and squirming and promising to be good.

SLAP!

And they’ll know that you weren’t good. That you repeated your mistake, not once, but eleven whole times. Eleven whole letters—that’s a lot. I’ll tell them all, I tell them….


That
SPLAT
You
SPLAT
Broke
SPLAT
Your
SPLAT
Promise
SPLAT
To
SPLAT
Me!!!!
SPLAT!!!!

They’ll see a punished husband. A husband, who because he broke that promise, over and over, because he didn’t learn his lesson, will be getting another hard, long bare-bottomed spanking.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP!!!

On January 22nd I came home to find the final letter on the board, an “S”, and an overflowing blue recycling bin set below the whiteboard.

FROM: Susandeclan@********.com
SUBJECT: Craig’s spanking – NSW
DATE: January 22, 2012
TO: Juliesmom@*****.com, DanaKane@*****.com, Jayne@*****.com, Tammyhoi@******.com, Susan.Hamilton@******.ore.edu
REPLY-TO: Susandeclan@********.com
ATTACHMENT: CRAIG_SPANKING.MOV


So I told you guys you might be getting something unusual from me. Here it is. The subject line kind of says it all. It’s a video of Craig getting a good, old-fashioned spanking from me.


You don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to. You’re all my best and oldest friends, so I didn’t think you’d mind me sharing. I should explain to some of you – and give a little thanks to one of you, Dana :-) – that in our house I am the boss. This probably won’t really surprise anyone. My husband and I have an agreement and he gets spanked when I think he needs it.


We’ve had a problem with him taking care of his share of the chores, and I punished him for this a month or so ago and filmed it with my phone. I promised him if he kept slipping up, I’d share that video with some friends. Well guess what? :-) He slipped up. Not just once, but ten times.


If you have any questions or want to know more, please give me a call. If you want to tease Craig about it, that’s totally OK. He doesn’t know who is getting this video, so if you don’t want to say anything to him, that’s OK too. Also, I know I don’t need to say this, but please don’t share this with anyone. Enjoy!!


Best,
Susan


So how does this story my wife’s video end? I’m not totally sure, but yesterday I went to pick up the kids at school. In the drop-off zone, I saw one of the moms smiling at me. I hurried home to do my chores. There is a hairbrush on my wife’s bedside table, and whiteboard in our house with ten little letters on it: D O T H E D I S H E S.

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Fun with Sarah Gregory : F/f spanking ageplay scenes

The third and final scene in ‘Miss Kane’s School of Manners’ released recently on Sarah Gregory’s website. We had so  much fun shooting these scenes during Sarah’s visit, and it definitely shows in the videos and stills. Sarah has a natural knack for ageplay and was excellent in character. I loved these still shots so much that I had to share them here.

Lesson 1:

Lesson 2:

Lesson 3:

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‘Art is in the Eye of the Beholder’ : More great original spanking fiction!

January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ turned out many really impressive pieces of spanking fiction. ‘Art is in the Eye of the Beholder’ finds a sneaky cameraman getting his comeuppance for peeping. Enjoy!

–  Dana



Art is in the Eye of the Beholder

I didn’t come to Vegas to gamble, or for the shows or any other kind of entertainment. I came to the Nevada desert to meet a pop star. He wanted a music video to compliment his show and he knew my reputation for the innovative. “Real people” he called it “I want a video showing real people in Vegas”. I liked the idea. I liked a challenge. That is why I came. I certainly didn’t come to Las Vegas to discover the lure of spanking.
I found the phone just after I left that meeting. It was in the window of a second rate pawn shop just a block or two off the strip. I think it was the oddness of its placement in the window that caught my attention. The eye artist will pick up on things like that. And an artist I was. An artist in need of a phone such as the one lost in that wave antiques and Hollywood memorabilia.
The owner gave me great deal on it. In honesty I don’t even think he knew it was there. The phone’s shell was sun faded and scratched and somewhere along its life, someone had painted the initials D.K., with what might have been red nail polish, in the bottom corner of the face plate. Yet when I pushed the power button the phone came to life. The shop owner sold it to me for ten bucks, no money back, no guarantee it would make calls. No problem on my side. I wasn’t buying a phone.  I was buying a camera. My plan to make the video seem more “real people” was to shoot sequences with a low tech camera. This one would suit the bill just fine.
That was on a Saturday night. For the next five days I wandered Fremont and the Strip with my little camera inconspicuously aimed at the variety of lifestyles that come to drop cash into the slot machines of sin city. Professionals, college kids, seniors, you name it, all kinds of folks from all corners of the country found their way inside the lens of my beat up little phone/camera. I would shoot by day and edit footage into my laptop by night and all was going according to plan. On day six the best laid plans of men and mice, and artists, went astray.
They were a qualified looking couple, I remember that. Him in a designer suit, her wearing a skirt long enough to remain professional but snug enough to accentuate her curves. I had figured them to be accountants, perhaps sales people, something of that sort. They were one of dozens of couples I had managed to film that Saturday. One of dozens of videos shot, yet somehow the only one left on the camera’s memory when I downloaded that night. That in its self defied logic, but what the camera had seen was even more beyond belief.
My thirty second video clip of the couple had somehow transformed into a twenty minute production. And what a production it was. The video began with what I assumed was the footage I had taken earlier in the day, the couple walking the Vegas Street. Only it didn’t stop where I had stopped taping. I watched in amazement as the couple on the screen turned the corner and then with the camera still behind them entered into the doorway of what was obviously an office building. And then they were in an office. Her office. And now she was all business.
As the camera rolled, she opened her desk drawer and removed the credit card bill. She walked to where the man was sitting; now looking more than nervous, in a sturdy wooden chair in the center of the room. She waved the bill in front of his face and chided his about his overspending for a few moments, before walking back to her side of the desk and pulling another item from the open drawer. It was a hairbrush. With the hairbrush and the bill in her hands she walked back to the man in the chair. She instructed him to stand, and she herself took a seat on the chair. The man began to sputter words that, with a wave of her hand, were cut off as quickly as they had begun. With the same authority she ordered him to lower his pants and briefs and bend himself across her lap. It was clear to me it was an action he was familiar with.
She was going to spank him. My mind and my eyes watched in disbelief. She was going to spank him! Before she did, she laid the credit card bill on the floor in front to his face to “remind him to be more responsible in the future”. And then she did it. With one hand holding him in place and that wicked looking brush in the other, she paddled his wriggling and reddening behind for a good ten minutes. It was clear that she too was no stranger to this situation. She was firm and she was thorough and when she was done there was little doubt that a certain gentleman would remember this encounter for a long time to come. Maybe two men.
And then the screen went blank and it was over. When I went to play it again the screen remained blank. Whatever had been there was gone. Only it would never be gone from my mind. It wasn’t just the spanking I remember…it was the art of it. Art is not just paint on canvas or music in the voice, art transcends any perceived boundaries. Art can be found in any place, in any action. That spanking, the grace of her movements as she painted his backside with her brush as good as any art I had ever seen. She was an artist.
I was both astonished and intrigued. I went on taping every day the next week, all the while questioning my sanity. Each night eagerly downloading footage, wanting not to see anything, yet desperately wanting to see it, all in the same breath. I taped only couples and I continually searched the crowd for the couple from the spanking scene that now replayed over and over in my head.
The following Saturday night she was back again. This time they were farmers. In this scenario she led her victim into a dusty barn, a thin switch flicking in her hand as she walked. Inside she spoke little as she motioned the farmer to lower his coveralls and bend himself over a stack of straw bales. From a nail on the wall she retrieved a thick leather strap and with knowing and experienced hands she proceeded to administer a severe strapping. The man held fast to the bale beneath him and kicked his legs as the welts were skillfully applied. When the switch replaced the strap it was all he could do to remain atop the bale. He yelped and twisted in rhythm with the rod. Again what she delivered was art to my senses, an erotic ballet of sight and sound. And again it was gone.
I started shooting again bright and early the next morning. I didn’t need to. I had much more footage than I needed for my project. But still I shot. From Sunday morning till Saturday afternoon I walked the streets with that camera bonded to my hand. No I didn’t need to. I had to. I had to see her again. I longed to see the swing of the strap in her hand, hear the paddle send it message of discipline to the deserving bottom across her lap. The music video had become secondary in my life. Her, and her spankings, were what now consumed my thoughts.
And when she didn’t appear in my downloads the next Saturday night I was devastated. Again and again I watched, and again and again all that crossed my screen was the footage I had taken. Not even so much as a glimpse of the woman. I sat distraught in my hotel room. It was quiet in my room. It was just as quiet in my heart. She was gone. I picked up the cell phone, held it in my hand and mindlessly paced the floor. She was gone.
The ringing of the phone pulled me out of my trance. It took a few seconds for my mind to realize it was the phone in my hand making the sound..and a few more for my mind to believe it. It couldn’t be ringing, it wasn’t a phone anymore, it was a camera, nothing else. And yet it was ringing. Even more I was answering it. It was her voice I heard on the other end.
“It’s time for you to come and see me. Be here in twenty minutes. I’m sure you know what happens boys who are late”. She didn’t ask me, she told me. She gave me an address and she hung up.
I spent almost an hour with her that first night as she made me a part of her living art. She lectured me about spying on people, on my invasion of their privacy and lack of respect. And then she spoke to me with her hands.. and her hands spoke volumes. When our time was up I understood the meaning of respect. And I was happy.
I took the bus back to the hotel that night. It was almost empty but I stood up anyway. Sitting was not an option for the next few hours. At the first stop light I gazed out the side windows. We had stopped in front of a thrift shop. My phone, her phone, was sitting on a shelf in the big glass window….
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‘The Time Elapsed Cane’ : Wonderful F/f AND M/m spanking story!

Here, you’ll find yet another reason why judging the January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ was so difficult. I know you’ll love ‘The Time Elapsed Cane’.

–  Dana


The Time Elapsed Cane


It ended up being the best idea I’d ever had, though at the time, I thought I was just indulging a minor whimsy. A very long time ago I’d had day dreams about being a videographer and making amazing films that would be known the world over but even then I’d known it was just a passing fancy. When I saw the sign for continuing education classes at the local community college, I initially thought I’d do something sensible, like learn a foreign language or maybe take a yoga class. Then I saw the little blurb for the videography class and some small, long forgotten spark of a dream flared up momentarily.

It was absolutely ridiculous and completely impractical but something in me called for me to take the class, to at least indulge the long ago fantasy for a few weeks. The school let students use the school’s equipment for the class so I wouldn’t even have to spend any money beyond the minimal cost of the class and the gas to get to and from classes once a week for six weeks. I decided to go for it.

It was amazing. It was frustrating. It was a dose of reality tempered with a giant helping of fun. I realized that I would never be a great videographer, able to travel the world over and make films about giraffe fights1 or civil protests2 but I would be able to make fun little films about Frisbee contests with friends and piece together tiny clips to make cohesive YouTube videos complete with some specially selected song in the background. I wouldn’t be famous, but I would definitely enjoy myself.

When the class was over, I put a bit of money aside from my next couple of paychecks then went out and bought a small hand held camera so I could keep playing around with filming. I did some filming and short videos and then I decided that just for fun, I’d like to make my own time-elapsed video, which was something we’d covered the basics of in class, but which I hadn’t had much practice in doing.

The trick of the matter was finding someplace I could set up the camera without it being disturbed. I didn’t want to just set up the camera indoors pointed at a wall. I wanted something scenic, something worth watching. In the end I decided to be cliché and film a sky shot of some kind. The easiest place to set up a camera for that was in my office at work because it had a decent view only partially blocked by the neighboring building whereas my apartment’s view was totally blocked by buildings. Also, if I left the camera sitting out at home, there was no guarantee that the cats wouldn’t knock it over while I was at work.

I only wanted to do a short video, so I knew I’d only need one day’s worth of footage, which was a good thing since my camera battery wouldn’t last long enough to run for several days. There was a small table already by the window and by sliding the plant that was on it over a few inches I had the perfect spot for the camera. It could be aimed directly at the sky, with the view only partially obscured by the building nearby. I realized as I set it up that I would be filming any activity within the corner office of that building, but it couldn’t be avoided. If any people were in the shot, I already knew how to blur faces and this was a film just for fun so I doubted I’d do anything with it.

I thought it would be hard to leave the camera alone that day but thankfully there was a lot of work to be done (a sentiment I don’t often express) so I was busy. By the end of the day, I was so ready to leave that I almost forgot the camera entirely. I’m glad that I didn’t because it gave me something to do that night. And what I found when I went through the footage after dinner made me forget my tiredness entirely.

I was just letting the film run for a few minutes at a time and then jumping ahead to see how the sky progressed, as some clouds moved in and out of the shot and the light changed with the passage of the sun, when I saw it — the movement that caught my eye and captured my attention.

It was a man and he was swinging something. At first I thought maybe he had a baseball bat in hand. The shot had been set wide to maximize the view of the sky and I had ignored the corner office. But there it was, at the edge of the shot.

I had to squint at the screen to see it. Then, suddenly I realized that there was another person in the office, in front of where the man was swinging. And that was no baseball bat. It was a paddle!

A jolt of excitement shot through me. I quickly started fiddling with settings, taking the film back a few minutes and letting it run again. I peered closely at the screen and watched again as the man swung and connected. He was paddling someone! Right there in the office across the way from mine and he was paddling someone. He didn’t even bother to close the blinds.

Unfortunately, because I’d thought the most interesting thing to film would be the sky, the camera’s wide-angle setting meant the film’s resolution of the scene was horrible. I could make out that there was a paddling of some sort going on, but I couldn’t really get the details. And I realized that I desperately wanted some detail on that shot. So I did what any insensible and truly idiotic but very excited person would do…I took the camera back in to work with me the next day.

My boss would have been pleased to note that I got there early. She’s a stickler for things like punctuality. My reason for being punctual might have been considered problematic, I suppose, but at the time I was too excited to think about things like that.

This time, I aimed the camera directly at the corner office. I knew it was a terrible invasion of privacy, but I was just so curious about what was going on that I didn’t let that bit of guilt stop me from acting. Then the work day began.

I was incredibly distracted for the whole day. So much so that my supervisor noticed it and commented on it twice. I tried to concentrate, I really did, but all day I thought of almost nothing else but that camera and what might be going on in that office. I even looked out the window to see if there was anything happening, but every time I looked, the office was empty or else there was just a man working at a desk. I assumed he was The Paddler, as I was calling him in my head now. But there was nothing interesting to see and my staring out the window so much was another thing about which my supervisor commented.

At the end of the day I grabbed the camera and practically flew out of the office, leaving my desk a mess behind me and promising myself I’d work on getting it cleaned up the next day.  I just had to get home and see what I had filmed. Maybe it was a fluke, a once in a lifetime happening, but maybe, just maybe, it was a regular enough occurrence that I had managed to film something really interesting.

Starting the film I could tell that it really was a good shot now that I’d zoomed in and focused on the corner office. With the blinds open, you could see just about everything that was happening but most of the day was just The Paddler taking calls and doing paperwork with a few people stopping in to talk. He was clearly an older gentleman, distinguished looking and business-like in his suit. Since he had a corner office, I could only assume he was someone with some sort of authority and power since they didn’t give corner offices to anyone.

I fast forwarded through the film, past all the scenes of The Paddler merely working, for I was sure it was him in that office most of the day. Then, around the same time as the paddling from the first film, something happened.

A younger man came into the office and he looked nervous. Even before anything happened I knew I’d struck gold and stopped fast forwarding, letting the film progress at its normal pace.

Some sort of discussion was taking place. The younger man was shifting nervously from foot to foot as he stood in front of The Paddler’s desk and he kept fidgeting, straightening his tie, tugging on his jacket , glancing just past where The Paddler sat, and looking like a man who’d rather be anywhere else. Eventually The Paddler made a gesture, a sort of directive wave of his hand and the younger man’s whole demeanor slumped in a clear sign of defeat.

As The Paddler rose from his desk, the younger man stepped closer to the desk and bent over it. I could tell the young man had a fit form, but the angle was perfect enough that when he bent over it was readily apparent that he had a rather shapely bottom that filled out his trousers nicely in that position.

The younger man was bent over the desk with his hands reaching across to grip the far side and his chest pressed flat against the hard surface. The Paddler didn’t even bother to take off his jacket as he came around the desk, just reached and pulled the paddle from a section of wall near the window where I couldn’t see from my angle, but I realized now was what the younger man had been glancing at while he was standing in the middle of the office before. It looked like an old style school paddle, long and broad, and I could tell it was the sort of thing that would definitely make an impression.

The Paddler positioned himself to the side of the younger man and leveled the paddle he was holding at the younger man’s bottom. Then he swung.

Even without sound, even filming through two windows at a distance, and even though I was watching the film hours after the occurrence, I winced at the impact, imagining a loud Crack! noise going off in the room. The Paddler was taking his time. After the first swing, he spoke for a moment and then nodded, apparently at some response from the younger man. He raised the paddle again and brought it down just as hard.

My own bottom felt like it was tingling with imagined impact. I felt like squirming in my chair, full of sympathy for that poor man who actually had to feel the reality of what happened.

There were six swats with the paddle in all with a pause for comment and response after each of the next couple of swats. After the fourth swat and a quick discussion, the fifth and sixth swats were delivered rapidly with no pause between them. They didn’t look like they were any less powerful for the speed of delivery.

The younger man slowly straightened after that. He tugged his jacket down and straightened his tie with the look of someone who would rather be rubbing his bottom but knows that’s not allowed so he was occupying his hands otherwise. The Paddler stepped away while this was happening and went back to hang the paddle back up on the wall. Then when the younger man had regained his composure (though I noticed his hands kept straying ever so slightly towards his backside), the two men spoke for another moment and shook hands. The younger man left the office walking stiff legged and gingerly, still keeping his hands from rubbing his painful posterior.

I may have replayed the scene a time or two…or ten. I didn’t really keep count. Then I compared the first video and the second. It was hard to tell, given the wideness of the first video, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was the same younger man in both videos. In the interests of scientific inquiry, I recharged my camera’s battery and took it back to work with me again.

I was distracted again at work. Now I had the mess from the day before to sort through on top of that day’s work and I was turning to look out the window more and more often as the day progressed. My supervisor finally gave up on commenting about my distraction around mid-day. With two videos to judge from, I had a fair idea of what time anything interesting might be happening, but as luck would have it, there was a meeting called during that time frame that I couldn’t avoid.

I have no idea what was said in the meeting as I kept wondering what was going on in The Paddler’s office but I was the first to leave the room when it ended, rushing back to my desk and the window to see if anything was happening. My bad luck held out though and I saw nothing of interest. It made me impatient to get home and check the film.

I hurried out again at the end of the day and my desk was still a terrible mess. I’d gotten some of the previous day’s backlog taken care of, but there was still a great deal to be gotten through. With an inward sigh as I got on the elevator, I promised myself I’d be in early the next day to at least straighten things out and prioritize the work before the regular work day began.

My theory about it being different men being paddled turned out to be correct. I was no less fascinated watching this new day’s film than I had been with the two previous days.

This time there was less talking. The younger man had barely come into the room when The Paddler made that directive gesture with his hand, plus an extra flourish I hadn’t seen the day before. The younger man was apparently familiar with it though because he flushed a dark red (and I was amazed at the quality of the film given that it was not a top quality camera I’d bought). Then the younger man unbuckled his belt and let his trousers drop to the floor as he approached the desk and bent over it in the same position as the man from yesterday, with his hands gripping the far edge, his chest flat to the hard surface, and his boxer clad bottom stuck out behind him making a perfect target.

The paddling went on for longer as well. I counted a good fifteen swats before The Paddler stopped for good, and this was not the leisurely paddling of the day before with long pauses between each individual swat. The Paddler would give two or three hard swats before pausing and these pauses were not nearly as long as yesterday’s had been. The last five swats had pauses alright but they were almost like punctuation, a quick break in the paddling for the sake of The Paddler’s rhythm, not any sort of mercy for the poor man on the receiving end.

What made this paddling so fascinating to me though wasn’t the paddling itself, though it looked incredibly painful and had me wincing in sympathy again. No, the part that was fascinating to me was what happened after the spanking.

Yesterday, The Paddler and the younger man simply shook hands and the younger man walked painfully out of the office. Today though, when The Paddler was done, the younger man didn’t immediately straighten up and redress himself. He stayed bent over the desk and I got the impression that it wasn’t the pain of his bottom keeping him there.

The Paddler moved closer and stood next to the younger man and even rubbed the small of his back a bit, giving him time to calm down and when the younger man finally did stand up properly it was apparent that he’d been crying. But he did his best to calm down and clean up, pulling his trousers up and refastening the belt, and wiping off his face. Then The Paddler hugged him, actually hugged him!

For a moment it was like my world had gone askew. True, I’d been watching the paddlings with great interest but I have to admit I hadn’t thought very good things about The Paddler himself. He’d seemed like a great demon to me, a brute who was horribly punishing his subordinates, yet here was proof that he actually did care. It was an incredibly touching scene and I couldn’t bring myself to watch it more than once, feeling very deeply that I was watching something personal and private.

It made me rethink the way I’d been filming the corner office all week. Yes, the first time had been inadvertent and I hadn’t known what was happening but the second and third films were deliberate and invasive. I felt a bit dirty for my voyeurism. That guilt on top of what I had already been carrying with regards to the work left undone on my desk the last two days had me in a somewhat morose mood as I entered the office the next morning.

I had at least managed to stay true to my promise to myself to get in early to try to clear up the mess. But to my surprise, there were lights on in the office already, despite the incredibly early hour. Normally no one came in for another hour at least, more likely not for another hour and a half. It was startling to arrive expecting to be alone and then to find someone else already there. Not to mention it took a little of the wind out of my sails. I’d been feeling a little bit of the smug virtue that comes from doing just slightly better than one’s colleagues. Finding someone else there already got rid of that feeling pretty quickly and I was left with my morose guilt again.

I decided to go to my desk and get to work instead of finding out who it was that had stolen my thunder, but before I got even halfway there I heard my name being called out. I turned to look and realized that the other person in the office already was my boss.

“Would you come into my office for a moment, please?” She said it in a way that was more a directive than a request and I felt obliged to obey, though my pace in getting there was not as swift as it could have been.

She stood waiting till I entered her office, then shut the door behind me and sat down behind her desk. She did not offer me a seat so I stood there nervously before her, well aware of my shortcomings that week and knowing that I had no good excuse for them. Some small part at the back of my brain was also aware that this nervous standing and fidgeting was very similar to what the young men I’d seen had done before their paddlings. It was a silly thought, but even as my boss began speaking it lingered with me.

She made perfectly plain that she was aware of my shortcomings. She listed the things I had left undone for two days in a row and she had a full accounting of every time my supervisor had spoken to me about my distracted state and my lack of productivity. It made me cringe internally to realize how well she knew what had been happening since I hadn’t thought anyone other than my immediate supervisor had noticed anything.

Then, just as I was falling into a state of abject misery, with the full list of my shortcomings laid out before me, not to mention my boss’s knowledge of them, and a growing certainty that I was about to be fired or at least have some sort of official disciplinary report filed against me, she asked me a question that completely startled me out of my inner litany of failings.

“And just what is it that you’ve found so interesting to watch out of your window this week?” She looked at me expectantly as she asked it, though her tone and body language signaled clearly that she already knew.

I blushed, my red face giving away the answer before I could even think to verbalize the lie I wanted to say. She had a look on her face that turned into a stern frown, though initially I could have sworn she had been fighting a smile.

“I happen to know the gentleman who’s in the corner office across the way. He has an interesting arrangement with some of his employees. Know anything about that, young lady?” Her tone was not quite severe, but it was firm and it made plain that prevaricating would not do me any good so I simply nodded in reply.

“As you no doubt noticed, he paddles different people every day. That’s because he has a system of mentorship. It’s designed to help young men in his company who he thinks have promise but who need a guiding hand to help them perform to their absolute best. He keeps track of each mentee’s progress throughout the week and each of them sees him on a different day to discuss everything that’s gone on during the week and take care of any necessary punishment.”

This explanation made sense and it certainly explained what I’d seen on the films. I did wonder what the young man from yesterday had done to deserve such a harsh paddling though.

My boss was looking at me expectantly and though she hadn’t asked me any questions, I nodded again. This time she did smile at me.

“I happen to think that mentoring younger members of the company is a good idea and have a similar method of problem solving.” She rose from her desk and lifted an object off a hook on the wall behind her. I hadn’t noticed it until that moment because it was so slim and its light coloring helped it blend with the neutral color of the office wall.

“This, my dear, is a cane. It stings a great deal more than a paddle and is best administered on the bare bottom.” I looked at the implement she was holding with my mouth somewhat agape though I shut it with an audible click when I saw the look of amusement on her face.

“I think you ought to know that I think you have a lot of promise and will go far in the company if only you’d learn to focus better on your work and ignore unnecessary distractions.” The smile she gave me now was utterly genuine and her tone of voice was caring. Then she raised her eyebrows at me and nodded at her desk, a gesture that was clearly asking me to submit and not ordering me to it.

I took a deep breath as I let all the thoughts of the last few days run through my mind, of the paddlings I’d witnessed and that one wonderful hug. Then I thought of the feelings of failure and moroseness I’d been having that morning. As I let out the breath I nodded and stepped up to the desk. Even without having to be reminded, I recalled her words from a few moments before about the cane working best on the bare and reached to unfasten my trousers and let them slip down before bending over as I’d seen the younger men do in The Paddler’s office.

Given her comment about the cane hurting more than the paddle, I expected immediate pain and gripped the far side of the desk tightly. But the first contact I felt made me jump out of startlement and not from pain. Her hand ran lightly over my bottom and then I felt her fingers slip into the waistband of my panties, drawing them down over my bottom to rest in the hollows of my knees. I heard her instruction not to rise and nodded, my grip on the desk becoming fierce enough that the whites of my knuckles were showing.

Then the pain came. It was a hot, fierce white line of fire and agony. If my hands hadn’t had a death grip and apparently been operating under different instructions than the rest of my body, I would have risen. Instead, I jerked up slightly off the desk and then thumped flat back onto it.

There was a long pause as I lay there, the realization that the pain was increasing with the delay instead of decreasing having just enough time to seep into my brain before the next hot flash of pain struck, slightly below where the first had landed. This time it took conscious effort to keep my hands gripping the desk and my body relatively still.

The third and fourth strokes were just as terrible and I was sure that I would not be able to bear any more. However, just as I reached that conclusion, I felt a strong, cool hand pressing against my back and holding me down against the desk.

“You’ve done very well. Better than I expected for your first time but I’m going to give you a hand for these last two. Just two more and we’ll be done and then the slate will be wiped clean. I’ll still expect you to catch up on your work, but we’ll say no more about the last few days. Just hold on a moment longer.”

A couple of tears escaped from my eyes as I nodded my understanding into the desk and I tried to brace myself for the last two strokes.

She didn’t disappoint in laying them on. The fifth was a line of vicious fire laid just beneath the previous stroke and it was perfectly placed on the crease of where my bottom and thighs met, guaranteeing that I’d be feeling it for days. The sixth stroke was its own new form of agony as it was laid not horizontally below the fifth stroke but diagonally across all five of the previous strokes making all of them feel as though they’d come alive all over again.

I jerked up on the desk, my hands coming free of their own volition but her firm hand kept me pressed down a moment longer. Then cautiously, when I was relaxed against the desk, the hand lifted off my back and I felt my panties being drawn back up and into place. I hissed in pain as they made contact with the fresh lines on my bottom.

Her hands helped me straighten up, though I winced at the movement, and when I was standing properly, she pulled me into a tight hug like the one I’d seen The Paddler give. It was warm and comforting and full of forgiveness. It made my formerly cringing insides feel infinitely better. After a long time, she finally pulled away and took my face in one of her hands, using her thumb to wipe away the tears still slowly trickling out of my eyes.

“There now, isn’t that better?” she asked.

I nodded. I felt much better now that I knew the slate had been wiped clean though I could already tell that sitting for the long day of work was not going to be easy.

She stepped away and went to hang the cane on its hook behind her desk while I managed to pull up my trousers and fasten them again, wincing as the material pressed against my sore bottom. Then I stood waiting while she reseated herself at her desk.

“Well then, young lady, I certainly expect that you’ll make a good deal of progress today in getting caught up to where you ought to be. Also, you should be aware that I have a system for my mentees. While I’m available at all times to deal with major problems,” she said this with a very stern look at me, “for the day-to-day issues, there are assigned days. Yours is now Thursday. You’ll get a calendar appointment in your email to let you know what time I expect to see you back in here for another discussion next week.”

I nodded. Nodding seemed to be the safest thing to do in this office. She tilted her head at me with an odd sort of smile.

“Maybe once you’ve been here a time or two you’ll lose a bit of your reticence and actually talk instead of nodding.” She laughed a moment and though I could tell it was about me, it wasn’t at me.

“Right then, remember that I’ll be watching.” I could tell that was a dismissal so I walked painfully to the door, just as I opened it, I heard her say in a teasing tone behind me, “Please remember to close the door on your way out.”

In that instant, the momentousness of what had just happened hit me and feeling light-hearted I turned back with a cheeky smile. “Yes, ma’am!” I responded, putting as much teasing into the statement as I could and pulling the door shut on her startled expression. I heard her laughter even through the thick door as I began making my way to my own desk and my day’s work.


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‘The Video Was Our Evidence’ : Original Spanking Fiction!

Readers,
In ‘The Video Was Our Evidence’, another fun entry to January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ , Alexis takes her dislike for men out on a peeping voyeur.
Enjoy!

–  Dana 


The Video Was Our Evidence


My name is Alexis.  I am 29 years old and am over 6′ tall.  I have the firm body of an athlete.  My friend Carolyn describes me as a blond bomb shell.  I am involved in a relationship with my 25 year old roommate Megan.  I don’t like men and believe most men are pigs who would benefit from the firm hand of a woman.  I am a lawyer and am aware that my appearance influences many men on the juries who ogle me in court.  Because of this I always dress in tight pencil knee length skirts, stockings, heels, and sexy silk blouses under my suit jackets.  

Megan is 5’4″ tall with shoulder length brown hair.  I pay all of the bills.  Megan’s job is to keep our home neat and clean, do the laundry, cook, and do the dishes.  About once a month she neglects her duties and finds herself across my knee for a sound no nonsense spanking.  I always inform her well in advance that she will be paddled as soon as I arrive home from work.  She hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy administering them.  

Lately I have been concerned about our security.  We have heard noises in our yard and some lingerie have been stolen off of our clothesline.  I have suspected the 20 year old community college student who has been hired to cut our lawn and lives in our neighborhood.  

My good friend Carolyn is 47 years old and almost 6′ tall and weighs 140 lbs.  She has a taut physique, well toned body, and muscular upper arms.  Her husband Jonathan is 21 years younger.  Before they were married he worked at one of her many companies.  Carolyn is very wealthy.  He is 5’5″ tall and not very athletic.  Since their marriage he has had the same duties around the house as Megan.  And if like Megan he screws up he finds himself over her knee.  Carolyn has become an expert spanker.  After all she had me as a teacher!  

I handle all of Carolyn’s legal matters.  After discussing business at lunch we laughed when we realized that both Megan and Jonathan were due to be spanked after work,  Jonathan hates his spankings as much as Megan.  We agreed that Carolyn would bring Jonathan to my house and that Megan and he would witness each others spankings.  Jonathan was to receive a strapping and Megan was to be paddled. Besides I told Carolyn that I had a gift for her.  

We always follow the same routine.  Megan is to have a straight backed chair setting in the middle of our living room.  She has a lovely cute shapely bottom and I require her to show it off in either skin tight jeans or skin tight yoga pants.  I let her know which when I leave for work.  This morning I reminded Megan that she was to be spanked when I returned home from work and that I expected her to be wearing her skin tight jeans and not to forget to wash my bras and panties.  I always spank her while still attired in my sexy business clothes.  

When the three of us arrived Megan was surprised.  She was told to bring Carolyn and me a glass of wine and Carolyn’s present.  When Carolyn opened her present she was pleased to see a wicked looking oval pine paddle about 1/4″ thick and 5 or 6 inches wide with a leather wrapped handle and holes drilled in the business end!  Carolyn smiled and said, “I will put this to good use.”

I then removed my suit jacket and ordered Megan to bring me my paddle.  I was sitting on the straight backed chair when Megan returned in tears carrying my paddle.  Jonathan was to be strapped for his laziness and lack of motivation.  Carolyn removed her thick black leather belt, doubled it over and ordered Jonathan to remove his pants and briefs.  She held her belt in her right hand and secured his left wrist with her left hand and proceeded to whip his bottom and the back of his legs as he danced around her in circles.  Red stripes stair cased his bottom and the back  of his legs as he begged, cried, and screamed.  Carolyn looked stunning in her tight skirt and you could see her lacy bra through her thin silk blouse as she breathed deeply from exertion and continued to strap her helpless husband.  When she was finished she looked pleased as Jonathan danced around the room and she fastened his instrument of punishment around her narrow waist.  

Megan was next and she was always in tears before going across my lap.  No amount of crying or pleading would change her spanking by even one spank.  Wearing my pencil tight skirt and silk blouse as I smoothed my skirt I ordered Megan over my lap.  Before applying the paddle I smoothed her thin nylon panties and proceeded to warm them up with 10 stinging spanks as she kicked and squirmed.  Megan had trouble staying in place; but, I am much stronger and have no trouble controlling her.  Next I pulled down  her panties and told her, “I,m just beginning, your kicking and squirming will just make matters worse.  

During Megan’s spanking heard a commotion coming from our yard.  When she returned she had our 20 year old neighbor Jason by the ear in one hand and his video camera in the other.  I wasn’t surprised because I have had suspicions about Jason sneaking around our yard and peaking into our windows and stealing lingerie off of our clothesline.  

When we played his video he had recorded Jonathan’s strapping and Megan’s spanking.  I immediately gave Jason a choice.  He could either go through the criminal justice system or receive the same punishment and that since he liked videoing Megan would record his punishment.  He was ordered to remove his pants and when he did one of my bras and Megan panties fell out of his pants.   He was ordered over the back of the chair and I secured his wrists with my strong grip to make sure he received the strapping he deserved.  When Carolyn removed her belt and doubled it over I noticed that there was a slight crease in the middle of her belt showing that it had been used that way quite often.  Carolyn gave him the strapping of his life while Megan recorded his punishment.   He cried, squirmed, pleaded but Carolyn showed no mercy.  When Carolyn finished without letting go of his arms I sit in the chair exposing the tops of my stockings being stretched by my garter belt and my bare thighs above my stockings as I  forced him across my lap.  50 spanks later his face was almost as red as his bottom and the back of his legs.  His eyes were puffy from crying and you could see the imprint of my paddle with holes on his bottom.  

As I said before I don’t like men and I made sure that Jason was well spanked.  We took the disc out of his camera phone, gave him his camera, and ordered him back here next week.. 

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Making a Spanking Video, Dana Kane Style


(In this case, ‘Dana Kane Style’ meaning: fast, low tech, and without taking ourselves too seriously.)

One of my playmates recently asked that I write something about the video-making process. Since it’s not the first request I’ve received, I thought it’d be nice to take a couple minutes to talk about my simple approach to video-making. 

There must be as many video-making styles as there are producers, and each person/company offers something unique to the viewer. The style we practice here is pretty off the cuff. 

I run a single, simple HD camera and a couple basic light sticks (with, granted, quite expensive bulbs). While I’ll eventually buy another camera – since I like being able to capture facial expressions AND action simultaneously – this simple, low-tech setup has worked exceedingly well for me. The truth is, the ‘production end’ of spanking video-making is fiddly and complicated. Nobody actually enjoys setting up cameras, lights, microphones, setting stages, white balancing, sound checks…well, okay, maybe someone out there does. But they don’t live here. 
For that reason, I’ve chosen to keep things as simple as possible. I have this fantasy ideal that viewers will appreciate the realism of a simple production. Or maybe that’s just the part of me that doesn’t like setting up lights.

Usually, my F/M videos are made featuring My Bottom’s Bottom – my main squeeze, my partner, my best friend. He’s game for (most) anything spanking-related, so we have a lot of fun coming up with themes for our scenes. Oftentimes, they’re real discipline spankings for something he’s (intentionally) done to merit a spanking. Just as many of our videos are parodies on common domestic disputes, like gambling, flirting, tardiness, and the like.

My girl Angel has received several real punishments on video, as well as the Little Angel videos which we make, in which she plays my stepdaughter, and I, her crazed Stepmommy. These ageplay scenes work particularly well for both Angel and me, as we both thoroughly enjoy regression play. Besides, she looks adorable in those pigtails.

The Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife have been gracious enough to share episodes of their Domestic Discipline lifestyle with us via the videos we’ve made together.

For my Live Session Video series, a few of my long-term playmates enjoy helping me make videos on the road. Traveling all over the U.S. and Canada, I come in…ahem, contact…with a lot of star-worthy bottoms, and am always tickled when one of my playmates asks to be in a video. These videos are extremely pared-down, tech-wise, as I don’t travel with lighting kits (because I’m not a masochist). I also never film a full playtime, as we usually change positions, move around the room, and generally make it impossible to capture a whole session on film. All those fiddly angle changes would be too much of an interruption so I usually keep the Live Session Videos relatively short.

As I’ve been working with more female performers lately, I’ve had the opportunity to branch out the scene ideas and storylines. Cheyenne Jewel has appeared in a few scenes as my particularly worrisome sister-in-law, and will be back for more ‘instruction’ from her meddling brother’s sister soon.
Ela Darling and Christy Cutie spent a weekend here making Auntie Dana’s Naughty Nieces – we shot an entire DVD-length production mostly over the course of one day, and those two ladies were real troupers, enduring several spankings each as well as numerous scene dialogues and wardrobe changes.

Usually, we (the performers and I) discuss the basic premise of the scenes we’ll shoot in advance, then ad-lib our way through the dialogue. I enjoy getting natural reactions – physical and verbal – from spanking performers, so we try not to do much scripting ahead of time. This has led to some really excellent verbal exchanges during scenes, since neither of us knows what the other may say at any moment.

Thus far, I’ve had an amazingly positive experience making these videos, and I’m hoping that it’s something I can continue to do for a very long time.

(Thanks to everyone I’ve had the pleasure of working with thus far, including all of the above.)

–  Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Keep Out’ :Excellent ‘What the Camera Saw’ story entry

Readers,

Here’s another of the excellent entries to January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’. I think that you’ll find each and every one highly enjoyable. In ‘Keep Out’, an accidental voyeur finds a friend in a very compromising position.

–  Dana



Keep Out



The sign said “KEEP OUT”, but it was not something anyone seemed to obey. 



Once through the gate, the small one vehicle dirt trail headed over a hill and into the heavily treed property out of sight.  When the “Y” came in the road, the right side took you to a huge soft sand pit.  And in the middle was a collection of rain water at times.  The sides of the pit were covered in motorcycle tire marks, some making it all the way up, some in a half circle up the sides.  Not all of these were my tracks, and I knew that people were entering the property to do the same.  It was a really beautiful spot, and many hours had been spent winding the sound of the bike engine, and unwinding the stress of my body’s engine.

If you took the side to the left of the “Y”, eventually you came to a cute little cabin in an opening on the left side of the road.  I never locked the door, as neighbour kids were prone to break in anyway. 

Inside I had an old metal frame bed, and a fairly good mattress.  Also a wood stove, and a table, a few chairs, some pots and pans, matches, firewood, etc.  All you would need for a night away, except for your bedding, food, drinks and personal items.

If you continued past the cabin, the trail would narrow, as trees and brush had been growing in over the road and the vehicle path itself was pretty much growing in with grass.  It was not a problem for a motorbike in anyway.   15 minutes through beautiful back woods country there was a small lake that no one had access to outside of my trail.  I spent many hours around that lake just watching, thinking, taking time out to myself.  It was not a lake I ever took a boat into yet, as the shore was so soft and full of weeds, grass and brush, but perfect to find a moose grazing in, which I had observed on one occasion the previous summer.  It would be hard to even get a boat from solid ground to clear water until I did some cutting away.

If you circled up along the lake to the left, you followed a trail that went up a steep hill, and once on top, each side dropped down sharply.  One side towards the road, the other towards the lake.  I would take the bike up there and in one small spot you could look around a large section of the property.  As the trail continued, it ended up back on the original road, just a little short of the cabin.



I was on one of my de-stressing rides.  I took the right turn at the “Y” first and tore a few layers of sand from the side of the hills.  I jumped off the bike and looked into the collection of left over rain water.  There were tadpoles galore, with all different advancements.  Some were still undeveloped, some had legs starting, some with 4 limbs protruding and the tail shortening.  It was funny to try and catch them and look at them closer.



Back on the bike I wound it out as fast as I could as I headed back towards the road, so I could go further up into the property.  I never really expected anyone there, because it was supposed to be private, and my property alone.  And other than catching the neighbour kids in the pit on their bikes or dune buggy a few times, it was really not trespassed on, so I thought.



I flew past the cabin at a pretty high speed, but just before I was about to go into the denser part of the trail something to my left sparkled and caught my eye.  I looked back, and noticed a small car parked behind the cabin, out of sight if you turned around at the cabin, but not quite out of sight if you went past.  I decided to keep going, so that they wouldn’t think I noticed anything.



I wound the engine loud, so that they could hear that I was long gone down the trail, and they would realize they would hear me if I came back, so maybe they would leave before that. 

I took the bike to the lake and up onto the ridge.  I rolled quietly along the top, so that the engine could not be heard.  When I got a little closer to the cabin I shut the bike down and parked it.  I decided to walk the rest of the way and see who dared to come onto my property past my signs and through the gate.

I was circling up behind the cabin and was about 50 feet away on the ridge, but it had come down a lot lower to ground level by this point.  I sat there for a minute, and just listened.  I could hear a noise, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was.  Was someone hammering something in my cabin?  Was someone wrecking it?  Were they trying to chip some wood off the logs?  I couldn’t quite make out what it was, but maybe because I was too far.  I slowly slid down the hill in the brush, while still remaining low on my heels as they slid down.  I got about 20 feet closer.  The sound was clearer, but I still couldn’t make out what it was from, or what these people were doing inside my cabin.  It was almost beginning to sound like slapping of some sort.  But I pushed that out of my head, because why would anyone be slapping someone way out here?  I listened hard.  There was nothing else I could come to conclusions with that type of sound.  I had to get closer.

I was about 15 feet away from the cabin now, just inside the brush line, still out of sight pretty much.  They would actually have to stand on the bed and look out the small window just above it, in the back of the cabin to see me.  It WAS slapping.  Why the heck would anyone be out here slapping???  So many scenarios went through my mind.  I didn’t even know if it was one person or more.  I knew the car was small enough that not more than 4 people could be in there at the most.   Then I could hear a voice.  I stayed put and just listened.  I could decipher it was a woman’s voice.  Not quite words, but was definitely the voice of a lady.  I tried to hear what was being said, but it was just normal talk, so it wouldn’t penetrate through the walls.  As I listened, I finally heard the voice of a man.  “I’m so sorry hun.  I really didn’t mean to.  I just wasn’t thinking at the time.” 



What the??  I just couldn’t figure out what was going on.  I get the whole apologizing thing, but why the slapping?  And if he was the one being sorry, then it wasn’t him slapping her I would assume.  That actually gave me a sense of relief, because I never had respect for a man who could hit a woman.  But what was she doing?  Slapping her hand?  Slapping his face?  His leg?  It wasn’t the sound of a slap on the table or the chair or anything, it was definitely the sound of skin on skin.  I was curious, so I had to slowly stand up and ever so carefully walk directly up behind the cabin in hopes of not making one piece of dead stick snap or rock get kicked. 

I was listening about a foot behind the cabin exterior wall.  “You really disappointed me this afternoon Jake.”  Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  “And I don’t know where you ever thought that doing that in front of everyone was something acceptable”  Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  “And it didn’t just embarrass me, I seen the others looking at you wondering why you would do that.”  Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  SLAP. SLAP. SLAP. 



I wondered if this was the Jake who lived up on the next side road.  I hadn’t really met him yet.



“But hunny, I didn’t mean to.  It just happened all wrong.”  SLAP. SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

“There is no excuse to have even attempted it, never mind in case it turned out wrong!!”  

SLAP.  SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.  “Owww.  But it was all done in innocence….”  SLAP!!!!!!  “…..it was just to get Brent back for what he did to me last week.”   SLAP!!!! SLAP!!!!  SLAP!!!!  SLAP!!!!! 

“Oh, and you think that retaliation is the way to get him back?  And then what?  He will have to out do you?  When will it stop???”   SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  “I’ll tell you when!!!  Right now!!!!  This is the end of it!!!”  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  “The way you scared Kathy was beyond what she needs!!!”   SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.

“But I didn’t mean for Kathy to find it!” 

“Look at me!  You didn’t mean for HER to find it, but odds are it might not have been Brent considering it was their place and both had access to the outdoor freezer!!!  You actually made her black out!!  And you embarrassed me so bad in front of everyone!!!”  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  “Everyone knew it was something YOU did, whatever was in that freezer!”  SLAP!!!!!  SLAP!!!!!  SLAP!!!!!  SLAP!!!!!



The sounds of those slaps were so loud!!!!!  Could she actually be spanking this guy??  No way!!!  That doesn’t really happen!!!???  But, what else could it be??  I can’t fit any other scenario into what might be going on.  I HAD to find out!!!  But how?????   I listened again for awhile.

“But Darla, hunny, I had told Brent to go and get the ice I brought, from the freezer, not Kathy!”  SLAP!!!  SLAP!!!  “So, really, it’s her fault….”  SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!  SMACK!!!!  SMACK!!!!



It was Jake.  Jake and Darla!  Oh my goodness!!!  I couldn’t believe this was one of my neighbours!  I didn’t recognize the car, but they probably borrowed someone else’s who was easier accessible.



“How DARE you blame her!!!!  She has nothing to do with this, and yet she was the victim!!!” 

The slapping never stopped.  It just continued on, and when he found a moment to catch his breath, he would try and explain.  “Darla, owww, Darla.  Listen.  It was just innocent.”  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.

“Listen, please, listen hunny.  Owww” 

She never stopped, but he continued to try to explain.

“Darla, it was just an old manikin from the shed at work.”  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  “Brent knew it was there, and that’s why when I put the pieces in the garbage bags…..”  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  “….Owwww….. hunny, please listen!  When I put the pieces in the garbage bags, and into Brents freezer, I knew it wouldn’t….”   SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! SMACK!!!   “….freak him out, because he would touch it and know right away pretty much!!”  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! 



“But what happened?”  she asked without stopping.  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! 

“Well, I asked Brent to go get the ice.”  SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!.



I HAD to see what was going on!!!!  I couldn’t handle it any longer.  Just then I remembered I had my phone in my pocket!!  I immediately shut off the ringer.  Thank goodness no one called in the last half hour!!!   Hey!!!  I can sneak a peek through the window by holding my phone up!!!  Awesome!!! 

Hmmmm.  Maybe I don’t want to see what is going on inside my cabin!!  Ahhhh, yeah, I gotta now!!!

I put the phone on video, and lifted it ever so carefully above my head.  Darn it!!  I was about a foot too short of the window!!  Should I stand on something?  I looked around me, carefully, quietly.  But other than a small log, that would only make me fall if I tried, there was nothing solid enough to stand on. 

I decided to sneak around to my right, as there was a window a lot lower down on the wall on the cabins side.  One I could reach, but not quite see in from ground level.  I turned the video back on, and ever so slowly slid it up close to the window frame, just barely getting the lens into the window.  I couldn’t make out what was being recorded, but the cabin was one room and small, so odds are, they would be in line of view somewhere.  So I just let it record and listened.  The smacking never ceased.



“Don’t even dare tell me in any way, shape or form it was Kathy’s fault for going to grab it for him!!”

SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! 

“Well, no.  I guess it wasn’t her fault, really.”   SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! 

The sound was even louder!!! “Okay, okay.  Owwwww.  It wasn’t her fault at all.  It was mine!”  SMACK!!! SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!  “I should never had done it in the first place.  Not because I was afraid of Brent finding it, but…”   SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! SMACK!!!  “….because there was just a slight chance someone else, owwwww, would have!”   SLAP!!!  SLAP!!! SLAP!!!  SLAP!!!!

“Right!!!  And that IS what happened!!!  How DARE you even chance that!!!  REALLY??  Wrap a manikin in garbage bags?  And leave it in the freezer on a hot day when you know someone would need to go and get ice or something?  I can’t believe you even considered that funny for one minute!!!”  SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!  SMACK!!!  “I couldn’t even wait until the kids went to bed to deal with you for this!!!!   Thank goodness we had access to this cabin!!!  I really don’t know what I would have done outside of that!!!”  SMACK!!!  SMACK!!! SMACK!!!! 

“Look at me!!!  When we get back to Brent’s place to get the kids, you had better go straight to Kathy and apologize!!  You should even get on your knees and beg that she forgive you for this one, because I wouldn’t doubt she has second thoughts of you being even NEAR her property, ever, in case you pull something like this stupid prank again!!!” 

“Okay, okay.  I will!!  I promise.  I’m sorry hun!!”



The smacking started again, but I thought I had better sneak away before they ended whatever was going on.  I turned off the video, slowly walked around to the back of the cabin.  As I did, I heard her say, “Now, get up!  Get dressed.  And let’s get back to that party immediately.”



I managed my way up into the brush, and sat down on the little ridge again, just behind the cabin.  Within minutes, I seen Darla come out and get into the car.  She started it and backed it out, and stopped in front of the cabin.  I guess Jake came out shortly after, as I heard the cabin door shut, the car door shut, and watched them speed away.

I couldn’t wait a minute more to look at what my phone captured!!!  I clicked on the last video.

Oh my goodness.  Darla’s right shoulder was barely turned away from me.  Just enough her eye wouldn’t catch my movement.  She was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs.  And what I just couldn’t believe was happening, actually DID happen!!!  There was tough Jake, with his jeans around his ankles and his backside in the air sticking out past her right side!!!!  

I never knew my cabin seen so much!!!  And it made me realize, it’s a little haven for more than me!!!  And because of that, unless someone decides to trash it, I will leave the door unlocked!!!

I shook my head, ran down the ridge towards my bike and jumped on it, while laughing my head off. 

One, because I couldn’t believe Jake was getting a bare bottom spanking, from his WIFE!!  Hahaha

Second, because I got it on VIDEO!!!  Oh my, do I dare tell anyone??!!!

And third, because he actually put a manikin in the freezer!!!!

I popped the bike into gear.

And as I was about to speed off, I told myself, “I will have to remember that trick!!!”


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Conversations with Spankos: Ch. 16 (Discipline vs. Punishment)


Readers,

I wonder what we all consider to be the difference(s) between Discipline and Punishment? What, for instance, is the fundamental purpose of Discipline – and what purpose does Punishment serve? Is it all about the severity of the offense, or is it more about the severity of the spanking? 

As examples, I’ll use a few of my own personal playmates (all of whom are fine with being mentioned in my writing by now, I hope):

Angel and The Very Bad Boy’s Delrin Punishments were assigned when they both crossed the lines of acceptable bratting, repeatedly, after having been warned against such behavior. They both misbehaved by sending bratty ‘Tweets’ (on the social networking site Twitter), publicly, and for everyone to see.
 Their punishments were not only somewhat severe in execution, but were videotaped and shared (online, free, for everyone to see). Both the corporal part of the punishments and the public shaming associated with sharing the videos were intended to show them both exactly how displeased I was with their continued line-crossing. It was a matter of not only their behaviors, but their treatment of me, their disciplinarian. 
(It’s worth mentioning that they’re both on their best behaviors – most of the time – now.)

Discipline spankings happen a lot around here. My honey at home is always willfully getting himself into some kind of trouble. In recent weeks, and because life sometimes gets in the way of nearly everything, he’s not been spanked much. It’s safe to say that his behavior has gotten a bit out of control.
So I’ve devised some discipline for him. If he wants to act silly all the time, then I’m going to make him FEEL silly. I’ve found a lovely song from kindergarten ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes’ online (google it), and am going to stand him in the middle of the room and whack him with a paddle every time he sings ‘Toes’. 
I’m trying to discipline him without reinforcing his brattiness by making it ‘fun’ for him (i.e. otk hand spanking), and associate something silly/embarrassing with that behavior in the future. (Don’t think for a second that I am dumb enough to believe that this will forever correct his brattiness, though.)


So what makes one of these a Discipline spanking and the other a Punishment?
For me it’s about whether or not the offender has crossed some quite-possibly-subjective line of “acceptable badness”. We should all encourage and enjoy a certain amount of sass from our bottoms, but we each have personal limits which we don’t want exceeded. Sometimes those limits are easy to define – sometimes not so much. 

Help me clear it up? What separates Discipline and Punishment, in your opinion?…

–  Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘A Night to Remember’ : Robin’s ‘What the Camera Saw’ story entry. Enjoy!

 In ‘A Night to Remember’, another great entry to January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’, Robin finds out what happens to naughty boys who use foul language. Enjoy!

–  Dana



 A night to remember.
Robinotk

It was 3pm in the afternoon on a Saturday. It doesn’t seem important
unless you happen to be me, and the place where you had to be was 30 miles away and you had to be there by 4 or suffer the consequences. It is never good to keep the person who is in charge of you waiting.

It seems time always slows down on nights there was to be a play party. Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours. Finally the time had come to leave and I bolted for the door.

Everything was on schedule and I pulled into the drive a few minutes early. Hopped out of the car and into the shower. The Mistress of the house was just finishing up getting ready which ment I had a bout half hour to be ready to walk out the door.

As we arrived I was carrying in the usual bags that went with us when we played at a public party. I noticed something that I had never seen before. It was a extra bag. I quickly flipped through all the stuff I knew she had in her house but I have never seen this particular bag before. My mind was full of questions.

The place was called the Reformatory and it was an anything goes party and before long the party was in full swing. The familiar sounds of heavy wooden objects landing on soft tender bottoms and the sequels that followed were everywhere.

Soon I heard that familiar voice in my ear that simply said follow me. She led me to a bench and then tied me to it.

  She called for her female slave to bring her the new bag.  As she did a crowd started to gather, as they always did when she started to play. From the bag she produced a video camera. A mix of horror and strange excitement ran through my mind.  Then I heard her utter the words that sent chills through my body.  If anyone wants to record this please feel free.

Soon I saw camera phone after camera phone come out. People jockeying for position like horses on a track, trying to get the best angle possible.

I soon forgot about all the cameras and the video recording equipment as the first hit landed. It felt as tho a thousand bees had decided to land all at the same in the same 4 inches of my bare bottom. Stroke after stroke landed until the bees had stopped stinging and they were replaced by a very deep thud. My mind reared and several words that were not common place slipped out of my mouth.

I heard a gasp as everything seem to come to a halt. SHE grabbed the back of my hair and lifted my head.  “What was that Mr Potty Mouth”  she said as she lifted her eyebrow. “ I know how to fix people who use that kind of language in a ladies presence” she  said.

Soon something was shoved in my mouth and duct tape was placed over top. To hold it in.  Then it happened. Again. “Wham”  It felt as tho a semi truck had ran into my backside. Blow after blow it hit.  Rocking the horse with me on it with every swing.  The hits seem to match the rhythm of the song that was playing at the time.  Until it all mixed into one moment in time where nothing else mattered except me and her. That one moment that seems to last forever. 

A new yet familiar was now running across my bruised and welted bottom  it was a light touch, a soft caress that was the signal that it was all over.

As I fell into relaxation in her arms. I remember seeing someone walk over to the video camera and press the one thing that ment it was over. The OFF button.

The End
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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NEWS: DanaKaneSpanks.com Member Site Coming Soon

It’s now been well over a year since I began producing spanking videos in earnest, and while the idea of managing a member’s video site seemed too daunting a challenge for quite sometime, I’ve realized that it’s a matter of budgeting for the customer. A member’s site gives me the opportunity to offer fans of my spanking videos full access for one low monthly price, rather than by-the-minute downloads, saving quite a bit in the long run.
The process is tedious and will take a couple months to implement, but I’m hoping to have DanaKaneSpanks.com converted to a fully-functioning member’s site by April 2013.
Videos will still be available on a per-download basis on Clips4Sale and SpankingLibrary, for those who do not prefer member site registration.
– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘The Reformatory’ : Final Chapter


Readers,

Here is the tenth and final chapter of ‘The Reformatory’. My thanks to Annika and Lyndsy, who were kind enough to share their time and creativity with me through this story, and for letting me share it with you. I hope you’ve all enjoyed it as much as I have.

–  Dana



The REFORMATORY

Part 10


Lyndsy and I had been living at the reformatory for quite some time now. Not quite as long as Lori and Kevin, but long enough to feel very much at home.  We weren’t that nervous anymore about getting into trouble, and after Lyndsy’s confrontation with Ms. Kane a lot had changed.  Even though it seemed impossible for Lyndsy and I to connect even more, that was what happened.  She allowed me to see into her walls of protection and I met a person with a lot of life experience and a lot of heart and spirit.  I felt safe with her, and felt I could show her all of my sides, the pretty ones and the not so pretty ones.   With that, because of my comfort, it also had me pushing her and teasing her, which she would categorize as bratting.  
Anyways, we were both enjoying Ms. Kanes southern accent that came through, and Lyndsy was extremely good at imitating her.  So whenever Lyndsy thought I was being a brat towards her she would say something like, “I will teach you to respect me and the rules of my house young lady!  Do you understand?” I would of course laugh at that, so she would continue, “Quit laughing!  This is not supposed to be funny!  You will end up with a red bottom and corner time!  Yeah, that’s right!  In the corner too.” 
We never risked to imitate Ms. Kane if there was a chance she was anywhere near us, but we were definitely guilty of giggling every time Ms. Kane pronounced some word with a soft “A” that would come out like an “O” like ont or onty instead of aunt or aunty.   And then there was this friend of hers whose name was Annika, and she called her Onnika.  Sometimes she got it right, like in apple, but still, we had to laugh when she said things in her style.
Lyndsy and I had a week where we were responsible for the kitchen.  As usual we did our chores, but we also fooled around a lot.  This time I was the one washing the dishes and Lyndsy dried them so at one point I couldn’t resist throwing a splash of water at her.  Lyndsy put on a firm look, put her hands on her hips, and used her Kane voice saying  “Really? I don’t understand why you behave like that.  But you know what?  I have the perfect ‘onniidote’ for you missy!” and with that she flicked the towel at me, nearly stinging my leg.
We hadn’t noticed that anyone was in the kitchen with us until Ms. Kane suddenly stood next to Lyndsy.  She placed her plate on the counter and I was struggling not to fall to the floor laughing out loud.  Lyndsy however stayed very cool and just said, “Well! It’s about time!  We were almost done here!” 
I turned my head slowly towards Ms. Kane to see her reaction to that, and was very relieved when I saw her just shaking her head and heard her say on her way out of the kitchen, “Silly girls”.   
We looked at each other and started laughing again. “Do you think she heard what you said?” I asked Lyndsy.   “If she heard anything, it wouldn’t have registered anyway, because we said it the way she would, and, I can’t imagine she would have any problems with me smacking YOU!”  Once again she tried to flick the towel at me, but I was just too fast for her. 
This was actually a thing I had relied on for many years, that I was simply too fast to get caught, at least when we talk about the playful trouble I would get myself into.  I would even tell people that I didn’t care if they threatened me with something, because they would have to catch me first.  But I guess one time has to be the first, or maybe the reason why I got caught was because I was laughing so hard and all my energy was sucked up by that!
One morning I woke up and just had a feeling of brat trying to explode out of me immediately.  Lyndsy, who was still not a morning person was sound asleep.  I looked at her, and I couldn’t stop the bratty side from growing and just had to do something to satisfy it.  It was Saturday, I didn’t have to rush off for work, and I could just feel it….I was looking for trouble….
I quietly sneaked out of bed, got dressed and found the little water gun I had.  I filled it up with cold water, and slid back into bed again.  I looked at Lyndsy and aimed at her.  It hit her right on the cheek she had turned up, and I flipped over as fast as I could to pretend I was still sleeping.  I could hear her start to move and shortly after, “What the…?”  I was trying to control my laughter, but I’m sure the covers were moving, and then Lyndsy says, “Amy did you…”  I jumped out of bed, aimed precisely and shot at her with more water then ran out of our room down the stairs, shooting back towards her as I went.  I was actually surprised how fast she was and she did catch me when we got outside of the house.  It seemed without even effort, she got me down on the ground and sat on me.
“Oh man, you little brat, you are in such DEEP trouble!!  You will wish it was Ms. Kane who was dealing with you and NOT me at the moment!!”  I was laughing so hard I couldn’t get a word out.  Lucky for me we were interrupted by Ms. Kane who had heard the thundering of us running down the steps and out the door. 
“What in the world are you two doing?”  she questioned.  Lyndsy was still looking at me and tried to keep her serious look, and I just looked back at her with the biggest grin on my face.
“Nothing Ms. Kane. I am just teaching Miss Amy here to respect the importance of sleep!” Lyndsy answered her.  “Okay.  And which one of you decided water all over the house was a good idea?”  With that, just as easily as she had dropped me to the ground, Lyndsy pulled me up and dragged me over to Ms. Kane.  “Here you go.  You can deal with her first. I will take care of her later!” and with that she let go of my arm, swished her hands back and forth over each other as if to brush off dirt, passed Ms. Kane and went inside. 
I smiled at Ms. Kane and she did smile back at me, so I figured she was okay with it all. I had no problems with suggesting, “Its okay.  You don’t have to spank for this.  I will clean the mess up, and it is just water ma’am.”   Ms. Kane lifted her eyebrows looked a bit more serious and said, “Oh, so you think YOU decide when I should spank you or not?” 
I kept smiling at her, like I said this was just one of those days, so my response was, “Come on! Really?  A little water?  I don’t think so.”   And that is something you just do not say to someone like Ms. Kane.  Before I knew it I was back down on the ground having her spanking me right there in front of the house.  I was still laughing but mostly because of the whole situation.  I have never been thrown that easily to the ground never mind twice that morning!  After a few minutes she stopped, leaned over me and whispered in my ears, “You will go inside the house and clean that mess up and remember I never need a GOOD reason to spank you, I just need A reason. Now get up and behave, we have an audience!” 
I got up on my knees and looked around to see what she meant by audience, and she was right.  There next to our mailbox stood this young man who looked quite shocked.  Ms. Kane was already on her way inside, so I got up on my feet, and walked over to him.
“What’s wrong? Have you never seen someone getting spanked before?” I smiled at him, to try getting him to relax.   He looked at me then towards the front door.  I turned and looked in the same direction, but Ms. Kane was already inside.  “You should see what she does to me when I don’t do things on time!!  So remember, never to be late with that newspaper!”  I reached my hand towards him, requesting the newspaper which he still held on to, like he was frozen in time. 
“Hey paperboy, I’m fine.  It was all fun for me.  I could barely feel it!” He looked even more scared now and I just started laughing. “I’m sorry but you should really see yourself right now!”  He finally got the courage to speak and questioned, “Does she do that to everyone here?”  I was thinking for about 10 seconds then replied, “Oh yes!!  To any who misbehave and enter onto her property.”  We both looked down and he was standing on her sidewalk.  He jumped backwards and even apologized to me.  “No worries dude! Have a nice day!”  I had to giggle, and with that I turned around and went inside. 
Lyndsy caught my eye as I walked in, as she was sitting a few steps down from the top of the stairs.  She was all dressed now, and just looked down at me with a look that clearly stated, ‘I will get you when you least expect it!’ 
I just smiled and kept going towards the kitchen and got a towel.  I removed all the water splashes I could find and was still laughing because it was still all so funny to me.  When I got up the steps near Lyndsy she said with a big smirk on her face, “I hope she spanked you good baby girl!”  I looked at Ms. Kane who was standing just a few steps behind Lyndsy and said, “Oh yes!  I have never been spanked like that!  And I really learned a lesson.  Wouldn’t you agree Ms. Kane?”   Ms. Kane passed by Lyndsy, who was still just sitting there on the stairs very cool, even though she only realized Ms. Kane was there when I mentioned her.   “My sweet little Amy, what makes you think I’m done with you?” and with that said she moved on down the stairs. 
Lyndsy couldn’t resist commenting on that “Yes sweet little Amy, and you don’t only have her to worry about!”   “Ohhh I’m soooo scared!  Can’t you tell?” Lyndsy just shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?  I really thought I had taught you better than this! Maybe we should start with a nice little talk!  Get over my lap!!”   I burst out laughing, because Lyndsy was really good at mimicking lines we had heard Ms. Kane use during our stay in the reformatory.  Of course, odds were Lyndsy would never do anything to me, so I just passed her on the stairs to clean up the rest of the water spots that went all the way to our room. 
During breakfast Ms. Kane told us that a new resident would be moving in.  A new girl.  I couldn’t help but make a comment on that, “Are you still surprised that it isn’t the boys who are moving in??”  Kevin followed up with, “Yes, Ms. Kane. I have told you so often, that I am not misbehaved, I am misunderstood! It’s the girls who are really the bad ones!” 
“Oh, that’s what you think?  I think you have had a fair share of misbehavior since you have come here.  And Amy, nothing surprises me more than when you two moved in and got together!  Lori here, she seems to have learned, a little bit anyway, but the two of you just seem to let that brat out a little too often!”  I started to laugh out loud again!  Like I said, I woke up out of sorts a bit, not prepared to out think or analyze things like usual, so I would just react to what I found funny.   Ms. Kane wasn’t impressed, and I seen it by the way she was looking at me so seriously.  It took all I had to keep my laughter buried and just let a smile out to her.
 “Anyways” Ms. Kane continued, “This new girl will be moving in on Monday, and I do expect every one of you to welcome her, AND be good role models.  And by good, I don’t mean to teach her how to brat!”  “Don’t worry about that Ms. Kane.  We will probably just encourage her to be herself here.” And with that, I started to laugh again.  Lyndsy smiled at me and then whispered, “Baby girl, what kind of tombstone would you like on that grave of yours?” 
“Amy, honey, look at me.” I switched from looking at Lyndsy to look at Ms. Kane. “You just earned the privilege of cleaning up after breakfast, alone, and I would highly recommend you think about what you are asking for, because you might end up receiving even more of it!” 
Lyndsy who obviously still thought I should be worried about both her and Ms. Kane, and also probably thought I deserved some kind of punishment for waking her up with my water idea, poked me in the ribs and suggested, “Go ahead ask her.  You know you want to.  Don’t be afraid.”   She smiled at me and had that daring look in her eyes, and all I wanted to do was hug her for being so awesome. 
I turned to look at Ms. Kane and spoke, “Ms. Kane, can I listen to music while I clean up this place?”  “Yes!  Please let her listen to some music.  Especially that song that lyrics a strong metal.  Something that starts with a ‘T’ I believe it is?”  Lyndsy was really trying to push it. 
“Okay Amy, you can listen to music, but I will choose what you can listen to!  And Lyndsy, drop it, Amy is old enough to know the direction into which she is heading!”  I sneered at Lyndsy, “Yeah Lyndsy! Don’t push it!”  Lyndsy just looked at me with a ‘whatever’ look and handed me her plate,  “Here darlin’.  You better get started.”  And with that she left the dining room. 
I got up and started to collect the other dirty dishes.  Ms. Kane also got up and went into her office, returning shortly after.   Within a few seconds, I heard a song start to play, “I like big butts, and cannot lie, you other brothers can’t deny….”  She looked at me with a big smile and said, “Have fun while you mix-a-lot!”  A very devious laugh faded as she left the kitchen.
I actually didn’t mind that song at all!  It had a good beat for working.  Then I realized, she had set the repeat button, and it was playing over and over and over again!  When it started to play for the fourth time I regretted asking for music, so I sneaked over to the CD player and pulled the power cord out of the back of it.  The silence actually made me nervous, so I hurried back into the kitchen to make like nothing happened.
I noticed Ms. Kane return and head to the CD player.  She looked at it, then at me.  I just shrugged with a, ‘I have no idea what just happened’ look.  She looked at it again, then reached behind it and grabbed hold of the cord as she unplugged it from the wall.  She took it and started to fold it.  I had nowhere to run, it would be useless to run upstairs, it was a dead end, and to leave the house, I would have to go by her, and even if I was to escape, she probably wouldn’t forget about this, so I would have to face her at some point.
But just like I enjoy playing games, so does she!  She just folded the cord and slowly went back to her office, leaving me there in the kitchen with my mind racing around every idea wondering what she was planning!  I hurried to finish up in the kitchen and ran upstairs.   
Lyndsy had left the house the moment she handed me her plate, so I was in our room alone and couldn’t stop thinking about that cord! I really hoped that it was just a joke Ms. Kane was pulling, and tried to convince myself that all would be fine.  I changed my thoughts, so instead I was thinking about the paperboy, and wondered if he would ever return!!  I started to laugh about an idea that came to mind, which was to switch the sign that said “BEWARE OF DOG” to “BEWARE OF KANE”, realizing that would be just as effective! 
Lyndsy returned to our room and looked with anticipation towards me, “So, I hope you got a spanking while I was gone!”  ”Who me?” I asked, “Lyndsy, You should know I don’t deserve anything like that!”   She had a quick reply,  ”Ha!  You wish!  Remember she is not done with you yet!”  And thanks to that remark, I started to think of that damn power cord again. 
“Amy, lets drop the way you blasted me with water today.  I’m not angry about it, and I can’t even pretend that I am, so lets go down to the basement and do something!!  I knew Lyndsy, and also knew from the beginning she wasn’t angry at me, but I was also fully aware that she would still wait for the perfect moment to get me back!   “Fine with me!!  How about playing some Wii?” 
We went downstairs and played for hours.  Every time I was in the playroom, a stuffed toy animal would catch my eye way up on a shelf, and I always wondered how it might be special to Ms. Kane.  Maybe it was even something she grew up with.  I never really dared to take it down, because it might have some emotional value to Ms. Kane.  
“Lyndsy? Have you never wondered about that stuffed wolf over there??”  “All the time!”  She leaned over to me, and whispered “I think it’s some kind of camera!”  Of course!  That made perfect sense!  A way for Ms. Kane to know what was going on around the house.  And probably why she knew what the four of us were talking about that evening she spanked us all. 
With that consideration, I couldn’t resist taking a closer look.  I went over pulled it down from its place and looked it over.  I started to laugh and said, “Are you sure this isn’t just Ms. Kane’s teddy while she grew up?  His name is Wolfie!  Haha.   And I can’t feel a camera inside of it.”
Lyndsy sighed and replied, “Amy, look up at the shelf again” I did and sure enough, there was a little camera which Wolfie had been hiding by laying on it.  I backed up a couple steps and started to wave at it.  We were busted anyway, so why not be nice and greet the viewer?  I hugged Wolfie and placed him on the couch looking straight in the direction of the camera.  Lyndsy had turned off the Wii and the TV and we both rushed from the basement to the main floor, pretty much laughing all the way up.  When we got upstairs, guess who was standing there leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed?  “You two, get in there.”  She never even looked at us.  She just pointed her finger in the direction of her office. 
———
So there we stood in her office, again.  I was intensely looking around the room to see if I could see that power cord anywhere, and even though I couldn’t spot it, I didn’t feel safe just yet.  And, as it turned out, I had absolutely no reason to feel safe. 
Ms. Kane came into her office as well and stopped right in front of me.  Her whole body language was telling me to face her and at least try to restrain myself.  She continued to look at me when she started to speak, “Lyndsy you seem to have a lot of fun with imitating me, so why don’t you tell Amy here what will happen next?” 
“Oh well….I….noooo….I am pretty sure you already have made up your mind about Amy, ma’am I don’t want to make any suggestions.” she stuttered out.  “Why not?  Don’t you have enough courage to share your abilities when I stand next to you?”   Lyndsy started to ramble on, “Okaaay…. Lets have some honesty here.  We all know it won’t hurt your feelings to spank Amy again today, and Amy does realize it is necessary.  She will even remember to count for you, and really, this is just between you and her.  Soooo. maybe I should just leave the two of you alone!” 
This restraining myself wasn’t working anymore. I just had to let it out and laugh, and Ms. Kane knew that was going to happen.  So she grabbed my arm dragged me over to her desk and stood me to the right side of it.  “Hands on my desk Miss Gigglehead, and stick your backside out!  And you Lyndsy, for once you are actually right!  This IS between me and Amy, but you will watch this time!  And if you EVER imitate me again, you will receive the same punishment you are going to observe in a few seconds!” 
I raised my finger in the air to show that I had something to say.  “Yes?  Do you have a question?”  ”Umm”, I hesitated, but continued, “No warm up??”  ”You already had your warm up on the lawn today Missy!  Now, open the drawer on your right side and hand me what you find in there!” 
You probably know what my fingers were touching in that drawer, and I tried my best to search for something like a piece of paper, or eraser or something, but as usual, Ms. Kane knew how my brain was working, so there was nothing else in the drawer other than the power cord!  I had no choice but to pull it out and hand it to her.
She kneeled next to me, so I could see her seriousness, “I told you I wasn’t finished with you, and warned you to think about what you were asking for.  And to be honest, I don’t think you have been thinking at all today!  Wolfie downstairs —-  STOP smiling Amy —- Wolfie downstairs is NOT for you to touch and the camera is a necessary device I need to help me be aware of any issues in this place.”
She stood up and went behind me.  The first five swings with the folded cord were delivered while I still wore my pants, so this “no warm up” thing wasn’t entirely true.  She unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down, placing another 5 swings smartly with the cord.  Once again I wished I had never asked her for permission to listen to music.  My panties were the next to go down.  “Ohh, my dear girl.  This cord certainly will leave some marks on you!” 
My fingers were strumming nervously on the desk, from my pinkies to my pointers, over and over again, and every time the cord landed across my bottom, my fingers froze in the moment.  That cord was just plain evil!! I had NO IDEA how many lashes she gave me with that stupid thing!!  Big mistake!  “So Amy, how many was that?” Ms. Kane asked.  ”Umm… What??  You didn’t ask me to count!” I turned my head and looked at Lyndsy and she just looked apologetic at me and moved her lips.  I think she was trying to tell me how many it was, but I couldn’t read them for sure. 
Ms. Kane was kneeling next to me again. “Oh my.  You didn’t count?”  She gently shook her head and opened the drawer, put the cord back, looked at me again and then said. “I don’t believe in breaking the skin on anyone, but I will start over.  And I do recommend that you count this time!” 
She walked around me, took my right hand, sat down on her chair, and guided me over her lap.  Then she started to spank me with her bare hand.  I made sure to count, even though it was really hard to focus.  My bottom was so sore after that cord, that every smack with her palm felt incredibly painful.  When I got to 20 she stopped and asked me how many. “20” I said quickly, as she was rubbing my bottom. 
And then she spoke, “So Lyndsy, do you have any thoughts at the moment??”  “Hmmh.  Well, yes, I was just thinking about what a smart man once said, ‘There’s a kid hiding inside all of us and it only takes one person who knows just what buttoms to push to make it come out’ – I like that quote.
I hoped Ms. Kane was done with the spanking, and so I started to relax.  “True, I like that quote too.  And I will be ever so kind as to take care of that kid!”, and she started to spank me again.  I counted another 20, she asked me how many, I answered correct, and she said, “Okay, you can get up now Amy.”   I got up and really tried to hide my face by focusing on getting my bottom covered up.  I knew I would start to either giggle or outright laugh if I looked at Ms. Kane, or for that matter, Lyndsy.
“Okay, that camera downstairs is a secret that you two are going to keep!  You do not want to find out the consequences if you tell anyone about it!”  I spoke up hesitantly, “Umm, may I say something??”, as I continued to try to restrain myself.  “Yes Amy, you may,” Ms. Kane answered.  “Maybe you should replace Wolfie with a picture of you?  You know, it will be like telling everyone that you are watching?!”  Lyndsy started to laugh out loud now.
 “Amy, go to the drawer and get that power cord please.”  I looked at Ms. Kane to try figure out if she was being serious.  “Amy, I do not want to repeat myself!”   So I walked over to her desk and got it.  I just stayed there because after all she didn’t say I should return with it.  After a few seconds of silence she turned and looked at me, “What are you doing?”  “Umm, I’m just standing here with the cord?” I replied.  “Well get over here, Silly!”  Lyndsy started to laugh again and caught Ms. Kanes attention, which made it easier for me to start to walk towards her.  I held the cord up for her, but she didn’t take it. 
“A picture of me, you say…hmm…I might even consider that.  But you seemed to find it a rather funny idea.  And guess what?  I have a funny one too!”  She walked over to me, put her arm around my shoulders and advised me, “You just earned the privilege of cleaning up after dinner tonight.  All alone.  Oh, and you may listen to music if you like.  Just put that power cord back into the CD-player, and please try to keep out of trouble the rest of the evening, because really, it won’t hurt me a bit to spank you again.” 
And with that she let us go. 
Once again I stood in the kitchen all by myself, but not listening to any music.  I wasn’t paying any attention either, because suddenly someone grabbed me from behind, and before I realized it, I had sticky, sweet tasting goo all over my face, along with the crumbs of a cake blended in all over my face, and I was planted on the ground again!  Yes!!  The third time today!!  I could feel the continual washing of my face with what I found out was a perfect made cupcake. Lyndsy was cracking up, and very proud of herself. I did try to fight back, but it was useless.  I was taught a lesson again!
“Sharing is Caring, Amy, don’t you remember?  Oh, and I do care a lot about you!  So here, have a cupcake!”   When I squinted my eyes open, another cupcake was on its way to my face, but she was interrupted by Lori, who stood in the doorway and was disgusted with us.  “I cannot believe, what you two are doing to those cupcakes!  HOW DARE YOU!”
“You want some?” I asked while laughing, and then scraped some of it off my face and threw it at her.  She stepped aside and it almost looked as if this piece of molded cupcake flew in slow motion, only to hit Ms. Kane on her nice white shirt. 
“Ohhh crap!” I blurted, and instinct took over. Because Lyndsy was lying on the floor folded in pain from laughter, I was free, and started to crawl away, while trying to get on my feet to run.  I managed to get to the living room when I realized it was a bad decision.  I was cornered.  As I turned to leave the room again, Ms. Kane who was standing in the entrance.  I guess she had a tendency to be fast as well, because in her hand she had a wooden spatula.  She just fixated her eyes on me and I started to feel slightly nervous. 
“Lyndsy?” She said with a raised voice, probably because you could still hear Lyndsy laughing in the kitchen. “LYNDSY!!  Get in here, and on your way, you will get that power cord?”   Now I was more than slightly nervous, I WAS nervous!  The spatula and the power cord???  Lyndsy came into the living room with the cord.
“Lyndsy, do you remember, what I said about imitating me?”  Lyndsy started to stutter words again, ”Umm.  Well.  I…”  Ms. Kane was still looking directly at me. “Since you CARE so much about Amy, I think it’s only fair if you SHARE in Amy’s fate!  Both of you go over to that couch, turn around, expose your bare bottoms, and bend over!” 
We did as told and stood there waiting. Lyndsy looked over at me on her right, but quickly looked away again trying to withhold the laughter. Guess she thought I looked funny with all the cake still on my face.   Ms. Kane stepped in between us and stood with her back towards me. She started to spank Lyndsy first with her hand and I hoped she would do the same to me, hoping she would forget about the spatula.  After a few minutes she stepped away again. 
Now she stood to my right and spanked me with the wooden spatula.  Darn!  I was immediately struggling so hard to even stand on my feet, never mind holding my head up.  She paused momentarily and said,  “Amy, if you mess up my couch with that cake from your face, I promise you, that you will meet this spatula every single evening before bed is that clear?”   “Ohhh, yess ma’am.”  Ms, Kane started again with the spatula.  After a few minutes she stopped and stepped back in between us. 
Now it was Lyndsy’s turn to get a feel of the power cord, and I was able to catch my breath.  When Ms. Kane was through with Lyndsy, she left the living room with the cord, and we both remained bent over the couch wondering what she was planning next.
Lyndsy spoke in an undertone, “Amy, you spanko you!!  Why the cord??”  ”It was her idea not mine!  Did you remember to count?” I asked Lyndsy.  ”What?  NO!  Oh man!!”  She was quiet for about 15 seconds, and then I hear, “Hey, lets switch places and see if we can confuse the DK!”  I looked at her, shrugged my shoulders, and we did without saying another word.
When Ms. Kane returned she didn’t say anything about it either, she just put her shirt next to my left and gave me a wet cloth.  “Amy, wash your face, and you will make sure that the stain on my shirt will be invisible!”  ”Yes ma’am,” I replied.
She sat down on the coffee table and said, “Turn around and face me” We did, and she was looking at us with her serious eyes, to which we knew we were not done yet.  “It is time for me to make a bit of a drastic change.  You have both come a long way since you’ve moved in here, and I do not doubt for one second that you two really care about each other.  BUT, to the safety of your bottoms, I will be putting you both in separate rooms for now.”   She paused.  In the silence I looked over at Lyndsy and she looked at me. 
“It is not a punishment girls, it’s just the next step in your journey.”  My eyes got big, “Are you serious?” I asked her.  “Yes Amy, I am serious. I do believe this to be the best for you both. It doesn’t have to happen tonight, but after the maintenance spanking tomorrow, one of you will be moving to a different room.”
“Okay” I wanted to say, “are you nuts’, but I held back and said, “Are you really thinking of giving me a maintenance spanking after what I’ve already been through today?”   That made Lyndsy laugh out loud again.  I looked at her knowing I was still being a little more brave than usual.  But it didn’t stop me. “I mean, really, you should consider that we might literally scare this new girl if she sees we can’t sit on any chair when she comes Monday!” I smiled at Ms. Kane.  She sighed and replied, “Oh, be sure I will have you wanting to stand, but you will be seated AND ever so quietly!!”  She grinned, and then looked at me, “Amy sweetie, you should really go to bed now because tomorrow you will be regretting every spanking you needed today!” 
“Great!!  So what?  We could have pulled our pants up 20 minutes ago??” Lyndsy cut in as she started to pull them up.  Ms. Kane replied, “Lyndsy, stop.  Let’s send Amy off to bed, and then me and you can continue, okay my dear?”  she smiled at her, “I did promise you the same spanking Amy got in the office.  So let’s have a little talk over my lap.” Ms. Kane stood up and gently stroked my cheek.  I had managed to get most of the cake off.  ”Remember my shirt Missy.  Now go to bed!” 
On my way out Ms. Kane sat on the couch and slapped two times on her thigh, her usual little signal of command, and reached her hand out to Lyndsy to lead her over her lap. 
I went upstairs looked at my bottom in the mirror and understood why she wouldn’t spank me any further. 
I was dreading the maintenance spank, and when she had me lower my pants to look at my bottom, that was excruciating enough!!  No one could know, but she didn’t spank me that Sunday.  She just commanded me to SIT down and instead we talked. 
The new girl moved in like Ms. Kane had told us.  We met her during dinner and I was very surprised.  She didn’t exactly look like someone who would misbehave. She looked shy, observant and kind of distant. 
I looked around at the others, and then when looking at Ms. Kane, I suddenly understood.
I used to walk around in this world, thinking I was the only one who had weird thoughts about misbehaving, and the possible consequences of that.  Well, to be honest, that thinking  just made me feel misunderstood and very much alone.  I thought the world didn’t care about me, so why should I care about it or those who lived in it?
The problem with me wasn’t that I reacted in a strange way, the problem was I didn’t react at all.  I was inside my head instead of outside in the real world representing what and who I was.  I could not be complete before accepting that, and even though I am a grown up, a lot of my energy, power, curiosity and courage was generated from that little child inside of me.  With her I could handle anything.
This inner child of mine still jumped ridiculous when Ms. Kane was near, always aware what was going on and if there was an opportunity to tease, in a cute way of course!!  But the truth was I didn’t need Ms. Kane anymore in order to let this bratty playful side out.   She would be the one to spank me for it when she thought I deserved it, which I never did, just ask Lyndsy!  Okay……. I might have deserved some of it! 
I finally felt free for the first time in my life.  If I found myself in a situation I found funny, I wouldn’t use hours to analyze it before reacting, I would just react.  The hours of talking and bratting I spent with Lyndsy was the main cause of me feeling connected to the world again, and Ms. Kane was the one to knock down some of the walls both Lyndsy and I had around us.
So yes, Lyndsy was right when she said, that the reformatory might be a place to actually get the best out of us.   
This new girl, she would eventually get there too.  
Ms. Kane, well, ones like us can be a handful, and she might get tired at some point.
And Lyndsy, she will still try to be last in line, hoping Ms. Kane IS tired!

Written by Annika, aka Amy, and co-author Lyndsy……
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Current results for the ‘Opinions on M/m Spanking’ Survey


Readers,

Here are the current results (as of 2/4) of the ‘Your Opinions on M/M Spanking’ Survey. I’m grateful for your thoughts on the subject, whether you’re a fan or not. Thanks to all who participated – the results are interesting.

219 Respondents:

“Do you enjoy M/M spanking?”

28% said YES.
18% find it mildly interesting.
51% said that they do not enjoy M/M spanking.


“If you DO enjoy M/M spanking, which possible scenarios appeal to you?”

75 respondents said that their interest is ‘Strictly Discipline’.
51 respondents said that their interest lies in ‘Authority Figures’.
And for around two dozen, ‘Eroticism’ or ‘Taboo’ is their motivation.


“If you’re NOT a fan of M/M spanking, why?”

79% said that they only enjoy F/M pairings.


“Is spanking eroticized/sexualized for you?”

64% said YES.
30% said that sometimes spanking is sexual/erotic, and sometimes not.
Only 4% of respondents said that spanking is NOT erotic/sexual for them.


“Have you ever participated in M/M spanking?” (Just for the fellas, obviously.)

A full 51% have not, and are not interested in the prospect.
16% said that they ‘wouldn’t completely rule it out’.
7% of respondents said that they haven’t, but definitely want to.
5% tried it and weren’t too impressed,
and 11% said that they enjoy and regularly participate in M/M spanking.



“Have you ever watched an M/M spanking video?”


18% said ‘Yes. I watch and enjoy them regularly.’
26% said ‘Yes. I occasionally watch M/M spanking, but they’re not my favorites.’
19% tried it but didn’t like it.
35% said ‘No. I have never watched an M/M spanking video.’



Not surprisingly, sexual gender preference seems to have the most effect on most commenting respondents reasoning behind liking or not liking M/M spanking. Those who are ‘into’ it echo the same theme – “A good spanking is a good spanking. Doesn’t matter who’s giving it.” – while those in the ‘No Thank You’ column stress that heterosexuality keeps them from enjoying M/M spanking based on spanking’s innate intimacy. 
I don’t believe that there is a right or wrong when it comes to a person’s individual preferences, and there’s plenty of spanking to go around for all of us…thank goodness!

–  Dana




Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Winner of the ‘What the Camera Saw’ spanking story contest!


January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ was a bit tricky, implying that the story should be written from the perspective of the author, and our writers rose well to the challenge. While not all entrants delivered their stories in first-person format, I know you’ll agree that all the entries (which you’ll read here throughout the month of February) are excellent additions to our ever-growing collection of reader-submitted spanking fiction.

And as always, though all the stories are great – only one can win. (I’ll admit that this choosing was among the most difficult yet – there were several exceptional entries.) 

This month’s spanking story winner and recipient of a personally-delivered spanking ‘prize’ from me, is:

SOMETHING TO CROW ABOUT




I was initially drawn to the open abandoned farm field behind my house to take some pictures of a crazed flock of crows I had been observing all morning from my home office window. I was positioned along an old fence line taking shots of the fighting, squawking birds with my camera, when I suddenly noticed someone off to my right on the edge of a small island of overgrown brush and trees. Once I had a chance to focus in, I realized it was Jane, the young lady that lived in the house that abutted the back corner of my property. She appeared to be trimming branches with pruning shears and collecting them in a bundle. She didn’t notice me, and I didn’t seek her attention; I was still trying to get some good shots of the crows, who were now gathering very closely to where I crouched.

Suddenly I heard another voice call out rather harshly, “Hurry up Jane! Quit dawdling!!” I couldn’t see her, but it sounded like Mary, the lady that lived with Jane in that old secluded house. I had met the two of them a few months prior at a local zoning meeting at the church around the corner.  They seemed at the time an odd pair to me. Jane was young, probably in her early 30s, very attractive. Mary seemed a bit older, mid-to late 40s, maybe even early 50s. She struck me as rather matronly, very austere looking. And she spoke that way too, very proper, like a strict schoolteacher. I wondered at the time what their story was; were they just roommates, or something more?

I was snapping pictures of the birds when I thought I heard someone cry out. Not loudly, but a subdued squeal. I couldn’t see anyone, but noticed that Jane was no longer on the edge of the tree line where I had seen her earlier. Again, I heard a distressed voice, it sounded like a female yelling “OWWW.” I began walking down the fence line in the direction of the voice. Suddenly, I saw the two of them in a small clearing, completely surrounded by brush and trees. It looked like a little hollow where deer might seek cover during the winter. I could only see their heads. Jane’s back was to Mary, and Mary appeared to be tying something across Jane’s mouth, a bright blue scarf or something similar. She then turned Jane around and began speaking to her in a very animated fashion. I couldn’t make it out, but it sure sounded like Mary was scolding Jane, she looked angry about something.

I crept slowly and quietly further down the fence line and tucked myself in front of a big old hackberry tree. The two of them were now in full view to me, but I was somewhat hidden from them behind the brush. They were standing next to a large fallen oak tree lying flat across the ground. A picnic blanket was spread across the trunk of the tree. Suddenly, Mary turned Jane around to face the tree and pushed her head forward, causing Jane to fall gently across the blanket on her stomach. To my astonishment, Jane’s pants were down around her knees! Mary then reached down and pulled Jane’s panties down, met the crumpled pants already gathered around her knees, and pulled both down to the tops of her boots. I could hear Mary clearly now:  “The next time I instruct you to trim the azaleas properly, Jane, that is exactly what I expect you to do!  I warned you last week what would happen if you sass me when I offer constructive criticism about your work around the house, didn’t I?” Mary nodded her head up and down; the scarf was tied tightly across her open mouth. Her eyes were wide and she looked kind of terrified. Mary then dropped her head down, hanging low over the side of the wide log. Her bare bottom was completely exposed across the topside of the log.

Mary bent down and picked up a bundle of sticks – it was a tightly bound bundle of thin, wispy looking branches, reddish and purple in color. She swished the bundle through the air several times. I could hear the hissing sound of the branches as they cut through the air. Without another word, Mary positioned herself next to the log, and grasping the branches in her left hand she raised the bundle high in the air and brought it down swiftly across Jane’s bottom. Jane let out a muffled cry. Mary was facing my direction and I could see a glimmer in her eye; she was almost smirking as she looked down at Jane’s exposed bottom. Again she brought the switch down in a fluid rapid motion. Jane jerked and cried out again, the sounds muffled well beneath the scarf. Mary then began to methodically strike Jane over and over, again and again, in a very slow, controlled fashion. She appeared to relish it.

Without giving it a thought, I had begun videotaping what I saw before me with my camera. I zoomed in and framed the two of them perfectly. I could now clearly see the look of delight on Mary’s face as she laid the switch across Jane’s bottom again and again. Jane was clearly distressed, bobbing her head up and down, her muffled cries sounding more and more frantic. Her firm toned bottom was crisscrossed with red stripes and angry welts. Tiny specs of bright red appeared here and there. Mary held her determination and continued laying the strokes on, each one harder and more deliberate than the last.

I have to admit, watching this through my camera was turning me on. It seemed like it had gone on forever, but in reality I was probably watching them for not much more than 5 minutes. My knees were starting to ache as I crouched there behind the bush. I tried to adjust my position when suddenly a loud “SNAP” cracked across the field. Damn! When I shifted my weight I stepped onto a dead oak stick and it cracked in two…loudly! Mary immediately looked up, directly toward my position. I could see her steely eyes through the camera; she was looking right at me.

“Who’s there?” Mary called out, in her haughty indignant tone. I was paralyzed. If she took two steps toward me she would spot me behind the bush. I decided to make my presence known. I tucked the camera in my pocket and sheepishly came out from behind the bush. Mary looked me square in the eye from 20 yards away across the opening. She did not look uncomfortable, as if she were caught doing something embarrassing – she looked angry, intruded upon. Jane’s head was up now; I could see her eyes were red and teary.  She dropped her head back down and remained exactly where she was positioned over that log. “I’m sorry; I was taking pictures of the Crows. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I finally offered. “I’m sure you didn’t,” she replied sarcastically.  “Michael, isn’t it?”…



… Mary led the way, followed by Jane and then myself, as we wound our way from the field into a denser patch of woods toward their house, which was rather secluded on a 5 acre wooded plot. I couldn’t believe I was actually willingly following these two. What was Mary planning? Why did she threaten to tell my wife about my voyeurism if I didn’t do what she asked?  Watching Jane walk along in front of me, I kept envisioning that tight little ass of hers stretched across the log. She had to be feeling that thrashing that Mary had given her.  But she seemed happy, chatting jokingly with Mary as we walked along.

We reached the back door of their house a few minutes later. Mary asked me to come in and make myself comfortable on the couch. I heard Mary and Jane whispering in the kitchen, and then Jane disappeared somewhere in the house without a word.  Mary came into the living room a moment later with a glass of lemonade, handed it to me, and then sat down across from me in a leather recliner. She had a very determined look on her face, and stared directly at me, piercing me with her cold eyes. “So, did you enjoy what you saw back in the field, Michael,” she finally said.  “I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it,” I stuttered, caught off guard. “I think you did,” Mary retorted. “Why else would you have been hiding behind that bush?”  “Clearly, you could have walked away and minded your own business.” I said nothing; I didn’t know what to say. I did enjoy it, I was thinking to myself, it was freaking hot!

“Would you mind showing me some of the pictures you took of the Crows, Michael?  I am so fascinated with those creatures.”  I sat paralyzed, sensing that she suspected me of filming her switching Jane earlier.  “Come now, show me,” she urged, with a slight grin forming on her face.  She abruptly stood up and walked over to the couch and sat next to me to view the pictures along with me.  I pulled the camera out of my pocket to switch it to picture view mode, but she was at my side too quickly. There it was, clear as day, a close-up of Mary, with the switch raised in the air, and Jane’s bare bottom exposed over the log – frozen in time on the video view screen.  “Interesting,” Mary murmured, staring at my camera without expression, “very interesting.” She placed the camera in the front pocket of her skirt.

A lengthy lecture from Mary followed.  In short order, she informed me that she knew my wife rather well, they had talked a number of times about the zoning issue. And Mary also took my wife’s yoga class at the Y three times a week.  They had actually had lunch several times!  I was baffled; my wife had never mentioned any of this to me.  Mary also described in elaborate detail how it was well known amongst the ladies in the neighborhood that I was somewhat of a flirt, though harmless for the most part. Everyone thought it was cute, yet they also felt I acted disrespectful toward my wife.  “She’s much too lenient on you Michael,” she said. “I would handle you much differently if you were my husband.” On and on she went, while I sat in silence, feeling more and more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Does she think I’m still a teenager or what?

“I’m telling your wife about this Michael,” she suddenly blurted out. “Every detail: sneaking around in the woods behind our home; spying on Jane and I like a peeping Tom; invading our privacy; and your perverted videotaping of our private encounter. I promise you I will deliver the message to her in such a way that you will be sleeping on the couch for a month.” She could see the panicked look in my eyes, and before I could get a pleading word out of my mouth, she threw her hand up as if to say “STOP.” “But,” Mary went on, “I’ll be willing to reconsider under one condition: “You, Michael, MUST be held accountable for your pathetic, juvenile behavior. If you concede to being held accountable by me, right here and right now, Jane and I will let bygones be bygones, and forget that you intruded on our privacy with this camera of yours.” She calmly patted the camera in her pocket, and then folded her arms across her chest.

“Of course, whatever I can do to make amends,” I quickly blurted out, without giving any thought at all to what it would take to satisfy Mary and Jane.  I just knew that I could not, under any circumstance, let this get back to my wife.  She was already on edge about the way I had flirted with some ladies from my office at a business dinner earlier in the week. I thought it was harmless, but she didn’t, and had made that clear to me later that night -she was pissed.  Mary’s story would send her over the edge.  They’re going to ask for money, I thought, so be it…

“Very well, Michael.  As you observed earlier, I am a firm believer in the positive effects of corporal punishment. That switching I gave Jane was not for fun and games, as I’m sure you perceived it. She was sassy, and careless, and in our relationship that is not tolerated. Likewise, I do not think your behavior should be tolerated, so to make amends, you will accept whatever punishment I deem necessary. Is that clear?”  I’m thinking to myself, lady, this is ludicrous. But “yes, whatever it takes, Mary,” is what actually came out of my mouth.

“Follow me please,” she commanded. I followed Mary through the living room to the bottom of the stairs in the front foyer. She stopped, and ever so casually picked up a large, wooden-backed hairbrush off the side table next to the front door. Without a word she then proceeded up the steps, and I followed behind. She was a tall, trim, strong looking woman.  She wore a long gray snug fitting skirt, which came to the top of her meticulously polished black boots. A tight green turtleneck accentuated firm high breasts, and the sleeves were pulled up taught around her powerful looking forearms. She was waving the brush back and forth in an exaggerated fashion with each step, and her hips swayed methodically back and forth as she slowly ascended the steps in a very deliberate manner.

She opened a door at the end of the hall and led me into a rather dark room. The shades were drawn, so only filtered light came into the room. After a second or two my eyes adjusted and I could see Jane, completely nude, standing very erect, hands clasped behind her back, with her nose pointing to the corner. In the middle of the room, all by itself, there sat an antique straight backed chair. A small, single bed hugged the wall opposite. On a nightstand, rather prominently displayed, laid a black leather strap-like instrument, about 2.5” wide by 20” long, with a wooden handle grip attached to one end. It looked old, and very well-worn. Next to it laid a light maple colored paddle, about 4” wide by 18” long, with small holes drilled through the middle area.  Mary watched me intently as I took it all in. Her lips formed a subtle grin; she seemed to enjoy my stunned expression.

“Jane, come here!” The sudden command jolted me out of my worried haze. Mary removed my camera from her skirt pocket and handed it to Jane, who now stood obediently before her. “Jane, you will use Michael’s camera to video the punishment he is about to receive. Since he thought it was cute to tape you getting switched, I think it only fair that you return the favor.  But do not think that I am through with you yet, young lady!  When I am finished blistering this young man’s bottom, you are getting a long hard strapping for your earlier behavior.” “Yes, Ma’am,” Jane murmured, eyes downcast. She then took the camera, fumbled around with it for a bit, aimed it toward the chair in the middle of the room, and said, “OK, I’m ready.”

“Are you ready, Michael?”  I couldn’t speak; nothing came out of my mouth. A feeling of deep dread overwhelmed me and I stood still like a statue.  “Well, it doesn’t matter whether you are, because I am,” Mary said cheerfully. She walked over to the chair, sat down very carefully, laid the brush on the floor next to her, and casually smoothed her skirt over her lap. Then she looked up, directly into my eyes. There was no sign of a grin now, she had a very strict and determined look, as if she meant business, and it was now time to get down to business. “Michael, I want you to stand directly in front of me and remove all of your clothes – everything – and lay them neatly on that table behind you.”  I stood motionless, unable to move.  “Immediately, young man!” I began fumbling with the buttons on my shirt; my hands were trembling and didn’t want to function. “If I have to repeat myself one more time, Michael, you will regret it, I assure you” In what seemed like minutes, I finally laid my folded pants on the dresser and turned to face Mary with only my underwear left on.  She stared intently at me, unblinkingly, as if to say, well, what are you waiting for?  I slowly pulled my black briefs down passed my knees, they dropped down to my ankles, and I slowly stepped out of them. Why did I think it possible to put off indefinitely what was about to happen if I prolonged the time it took to remove my underwear?

I stood before her now completely naked, shivering not from cold, but from nervous tension, from embarrassment, from shame. Here I was, a grown man, standing naked before this lady, a virtual stranger to me, waiting to be punished like a little boy for hiding behind a bush and videotaping a private act between two of my neighbors. Really?  How on earth did I get myself into this?? 

“Come over here and lay across my lap, Michael.”  Just like that, she’s actually gonna do this? Thinking about her earlier threat I complied, and laid myself across her warm, firm lap. She easily held me there, as if it were completely natural to have a grown man across her lap. WHACK! She struck my left cheek with her hand. WHACK! The right one. It stung slightly, but was more of a surprise than anything. WHACK! WHACK! …WHACK! WHACK! The swats were firmer now; I was starting to feel a sting.  WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Her hand began striking my bottom in a steady rhythm now. Over and over swat after swat, up and down the full of my left cheek, then my right. She began to really start laying into me, repeatedly smacking the area where my cheeks meet my thighs, one side and then the other. I began squirming and kicking a little, it really started hurting. Without even realizing it, I was making a lot of noise, “OOOWWWW” and “JEEEEEZZZZ”, and “MARY PLEEEAAASE!” “I’M SOORRRY,” I eventually squealed. But Mary was undeterred. She reached down and picked up the brush and without pause began popping the back of the brush across every inch of my bottom. Several times she laid the flat of the brush across my upper thighs and I howled in pain. I kicked and squirmed but she easily held me in place, at one point throwing her leg over both of mine to hold my feet to the floor.  I tried to reach back to protect my bottom but she quickly grabbed my wrist with her free hand and firmly pinned it to my back. She was strong and relentless, bringing that brush forcefully down over and over again. She continued swatting my burning cheeks in a steady rhythm, her intensity building, each swat harder. I was about to completely lose it, when suddenly she stopped and ordered “Get up Michael, and go stand in the corner, hands at your sides.” I did just that, and didn’t even think about questioning her.  I then realized just how sore my ass was, it was throbbing and burning…a sensation I had never felt before.

I stood in silence for what seemed like 5 minutes or so, but I really had no perception of time. I could see Jane over my shoulder aiming the camera at me in the corner, kneeling down low and focusing in on my bare bottom. Just as my heartbeat started returning to normal, I heard Mary’s heels approaching from the other side of the room. She was at my side, then suddenly grabbed my ear with her right hand, forced my head around, and dragged me by my ear across the room to the foot of the bed. “Young man, I’ve just started with you. Now lay flat across that bed and grab ahold of the rungs in that headboard…DO NOT even think about letting go, is that clear?” I couldn’t even form words before the leather strap slapped hard across both cheeks and a searing pain shot down to my toes. ”OOOUUUCCHH” I yelled. “Yes, I understand!” Mary then instructed Jane to focus the camera on my face.  “You keep your head up and look into that camera, Michael. You’re getting spanked like a naughty little boy, but you’re going to take it like a man.” With that, she laid another hard stroke across my quivering bottom. She was swinging from my right, and the strap bit into the side of my left cheek harshly. I didn’t yell, and kept my head still, but it hurt like hell. Another hard stroke. And another. The small room reverberated with the loud collision of that warn leather meeting my taught ass. CRACK! SMACK! The pain was building. Without a word, Mary then began laying on stroke after stroke in rapid succession. She brought the strap up and then swung back down full force, snapping her wrist at the end of the stroke and following through for full affect.  Each stroke landed perfectly flat, and with devastating results. I began kicking and screaming for her to stop, but managed to keep ahold of the headboard. I sooo badly wanted to reach back and protect my burning ass. Finally, she stopped, and I gasped for breath, almost in shock with the pain she was causing me. With three quick steps, she appeared on the other side of the bed, raised the strap, and then brought it down harshly, biting into the side of my right cheek. “OWWWW!!” I howled. Without pause, Mary then proceeded to lay a dozen swats across my ass from that side. After the 5th stroke I was literally screaming, kicking and squirming, promising I’ll never do it again, crying out how sorry I was. It fell on deaf ears. She continued on, hard stroke after hard stroke, at full force the strap bit into my sore bottom. I had completely lost control by the time she brought the 12th brutal stroke down. I was in a state of panic, not sobbing, but crying to some degree, tears forming in my eyes. I was breathing heavily, and my cheeks were numb. I heard her footsteps cross back to the middle of the room, and she sat down in the chair. I dropped my head down to the mattress, tried to regain my breath, and felt the searing heat building across every inch of my bottom, from the start of my crack down to my thighs. I was stunned.

Jane had filmed the whole thing. How humiliating. What if someone were to see this?  Me, lying across a bed, completely naked, being strapped to tears by my neighbor! Did Jane feel the same way when she learned that I was filming her? As I lay there, thinking about Jane’s naked ass being switched by this same woman, I found myself becoming aroused. I slowly started grinding my hips in a circular motion against the bed. The pain in my bottom was present but subsiding, and I felt relaxed in that moment, not in the least bit conscience of the two women who were watching me squirm on that bed, admiring my red, sore bare bottom.

Mary’s heels again rang out across that wooden floor.  “OK, Michael, get up and come back over to this chair.”  I complied, but rather slowly, aware now that I was indeed in a somewhat aroused state. I saw Jane grinning when I stood up, and then I turned to face Mary. “Oh my,” Mary laughed. “I assure you, THAT will not last long young man. Come now, over to this chair.” She had the paddle in her hand, and was tapping it across the palm of her other hand, staring me straight in the eye as I approached. “Bend over the back of this chair and grab ahold of the seat, Michael.  I want that naughty bottom of yours displayed proudly.” She adjusted me meticulously over the chair; hand on the small of my back urging me to bend further over, spreading my feet slightly, and pushing my head down. “Now, Michael, to be sure you learn your lesson, I am going to administer 12 very hard swats with my antique Spencer Paddle. If those hands move, I’ll start over. Understood?” “Please, Mary, I begged, I can’t take this!!” “You can take it, and you will take it.” Before I could object further, the first swat connected solidly across the very center of both cheeks. A loud crack bounced around the room. “OOOUUUCCCCHHHH!!!” I yelled. I heard Jane giggling from somewhere behind me. I could see Mary out of the corner of my eye, her hips twisting slightly, her shirt pulling up as her right arm raised up and back, and then the swift twist back and …WHAAACCKK!   “EEEWWWW” I moaned, “please Mary!!” The pain was incredible. Tears were already welling up in my eyes. The next swat connected with my left cheek, the next met my right, the next low across both.  I was approaching hysteria, yelling louder with each subsequent swat. The pain was building, each swat hurting more than the previous. Mary was silent, completely focused on her task at hand. She was determined to make each stroke count, and that she did. The next six swats came in rapid succession. Sometime during the last few, I began sobbing uncontrollably. After the final swat, I dropped to my knees and covered my face with my hands. That damn camera was still rolling.

I could hear Mary and Jane behind me mumbling to each other. A second later I heard a loud CRACK, and then my own voice screaming out like a schoolgirl’s. They were playing back the video of my paddling! I got myself dressed; feeling humiliated having to gingerly pull my underwear back up over my swollen sore behind. Both Mary and Jane watched attentively.” Well, are we square now Mary?” I asked. “Yes, Michael, you took your punishment, and we will keep our end of the bargain.” Jane handed me my camera. “I assume you’ll think twice before intruding on other people’s privacy with that thing again?” Mary asked. “I believe so,” I said, shaking my head slightly with embarrassment. Mary walked over and opened the door. “Please see yourself out, would you?” 

I descended the steps to the first floor, feeling every movement acutely in my sore bottom and thighs. When I reached the foyer, I could hear Mary’s raised voice coming from the room upstairs. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it sounded like she was scolding Jane again. I paused out of curiosity. A moment later I heard a loud “SSLLAAAPP” followed by Jane’s unbridled squealing. Then again…And again.  Jane was getting the strapping she had been warned about earlier. Wow, that Mary is something else. The thought of Jane’s naked bottom stretched across that bed excited me, and I was about to stay right there and keep listening in on her punishment. Are you crazy?? I quickly opened the door and left the house without looking back…

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