Ms. Dana Kane – Professional Disciplinarian
"Hold still long enough and I'll spank you, too."
Bruised for Brownies
Real Discipline Request: Fiona Murphy
Lots of us have seen the Sheldon spanks Amy scene on Big Bang Theory. I’ve shared it here, because I love the whole ‘real’ discipline/granny gown/longing-type thing they do. This scene caused quite an uproar, even outside the spanking community, and got a lot of press in the process. I’ve re-added the original scene, then the blooper reel (which is really hilarious) from the spanking scene, followed by Jim Parsons talking about – and demonstrating – the spanking with Conan O’Brien and Andy Richter. Even if you don’t watch the show, it’s great stuff.
Enjoy!
The actual scene:
Here’s the blooper reel:
Spanking bloopers start at 1:50..
And HERE is the ‘re-enactment’ from Conan O’Brien’s show:
My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future. Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand. My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace. I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power. Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government. Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.
That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900’s written by Dorothy Spencer. She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking. She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air. The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved. According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted. The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court. The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline. Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles. Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.
The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes. Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior. Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday. Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling. Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.
Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent. I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again. When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt. You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle! I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.
Now a little more about me. I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder. I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet. These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society. As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power. I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric. He is very fit like me and a type A male. Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month. He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.
It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center. When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair. When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom. When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee. I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp. The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint. Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap. He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap. Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face. When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power. When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.
Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.
Readers,
I’ve heard all about the Hofbrauhaus here in Las Vegas, and I know that they whack you with a paddle if/when you take some shot of liquor…and I’ve always maintained that it sounds Super Dangerous to allow your waitress to whack you with a thick wooden board when you’ve been drinking.
I still maintain that, and would also like to add this:
WHAT THE HELL??!!
Heart Attack Grill? Has anyone heard of/been to this place? And why in the name of everything good and edible is that lady allowed to hit people like that? Wow. I’m sure that she’s a lovely person, but every time I see her lift that paddle I am genuinely afraid for every person in the room.
Is the food really great? Is it worth the risk of losing all feeling from the waist down? Or am I being overly sensitive/judgmental about what I think looks like a paddle that could land Just About Anywhere every time it’s swung (this includes the front porch)? Scary spanking video.
Have you seen this?
Pro-Domme Carlie Ritch (“Mizz Barbie Bitch”) has announced that she will run for mayor of Toronto.
HERE is the link to the article.
My favorite quote from the interview: “I don’t have any skeletons in my closet.” said Ritch, “I AM the skeleton.”
Okay, let’s not pretend that I haven’t heard that before –
but I like to think that it’s complimentary..
..is that possible?
Yeah, totally.
So our friends at Cane-iac.com have been playing around with GIFs and our stock of dozens of Product Testing and Tips 4 Tops videos, and they’ve come up with some pretty cool free spanking videos stuff.
This one, in particular, I received attached to an email titled, “You look SO evil in this one!”. And ya know what? They’re right! On the spot, totally, right.
See for yourself:
So there it is…evil. But in a good way. (Also, I think that I would look much less daunting in this GIF if my Bottom’s Bottom hadn’t been acting particularly theatrical that day. He’s such a weenie sometimes.)
– Dana
Once, when I still had social networking accounts, I tweeted something about ‘spanking therapy’ to one of my friends. I don’t know why or how, but someone I’d never met nor heard of, who was some sort of anti-new-age-medicine personality, made a super snarky and dismissive comment and re-shared my original tweet to his followers. Sort of a ‘look, another loony’ kind of thing. I was highly insulted. First of all, who the hell are you? and secondly, what business is it of yours? and third, oh…I could go on and on about the social miscalculations this person made that day. But that’s not the point, so let’s get past my indignation at the snark and look at the underlying smarminess.
People think that sex is dirty. People also think that anything which smacks of fetish must be perverse, discordant, and totally without actual value. In other words, some folks think that what we do is weird and we’re dumb. (And where the ‘what we do’ is, you could put any counter- or alt-norm culture or movement and get the same results.) Many of those people are just under- or ill-informed (ignorant) and the rest are simply closed to the idea of anything outside their comfortable social mores (stupid). Probably more than a few talk the clean talk, but walk the dirty walk, distancing themselves from other perverts by way of magical thinking.
People who think that this is all a bunch of crap (I’ll call them The Dummies from here on out, so nobody gets confused) are, simply, small-minded. I’m not a person of unshakeable faith in many things, but I have the ultimate faith in a person’s ability to accept. When that faith is shaken by Dummies, I remind myself that it’s not anyone else’s life I’m living, nor is anyone helping me live this one…I’m answerable only to myself. My beliefs don’t have to jibe with anyone else’s, and it’s cool for others to disagree…as long as they’ve educated themselves on the subject. Dummies are the folks who would take a subject like spanking, look at it for half a second, then determine it to be valueless.
Most people reading this post will likely be pro-spanking, pro-kink, or, at the very least, pro-openmindedness (or you wouldn’t still be reading), so it’s not likely that I’ll meet a lot of dissenters here, and that’s fine too. It still has to be said.
Spanking is therapeutic.
It’s not just a get-off tool; it’s certainly not just deviance; it’s most definitely proven (by those who are willing to talk openly) to have positive and long-lasting effects on one’s mental state. Granted, one must be open to the idea, and possibly an actual spanko, to derive benefit from this belief, but doesn’t that make it just like every other belief? Don’t we all have to suspend disbelief in one or more areas of our lives, in order for things like belief to work in the first place?
And does it really matter whether we believe in it because it works, or whether it works because we believe it will? I don’t think so. (I’m getting a strong sense of deja vu here..like I’ve complained about this very thing before. Ah well,)
Dummies would say that we’re all hung up on some childhood trauma, or that we’re sadistic sociopaths and masochistic psychos. Personally, I think we’re a lot simpler than all that. We crave something which we cannot necessarily explain but which harms none, and we seek it out. We do not impose our wills or ideas on others, unlike the Dummies.
See, they think it’s all about the hitting. That’s why they’re dumb.
We know better…
It’s less about the spanking and much, much, much more about the relationships we foster – we can’t help fostering – when we’re so close together for so long.
It’s about empathy, too, isn’t it? The whole thing about actually listening rather than just waiting for one’s turn to speak.
And trust, which we give physically so very easily but withhold emotionally for so very long.
But I don’t have to explain it to you, do I? And The Dummies would never listen.
Preaching to the choir,
– Dana
We’re down to the final week of the Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2, for a 1 YEAR membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com (and a runner-up 30 day membership) –
and we’ve already raised $600 for animals in need!
Every time we play the Give Til it Hurts game, every single cent donated will be given to animals in need – last time we raised and donated one thousand dollars to many great causes, and I’m looking forward to seeing just how much more we can accomplish, together, this time.
If you want to participate, simply email me at danakanespanks@gmail.com and let me know how many raffle tickets you’d like to purchase – they’re five dollars apiece and each one buys you another chance to win one of the two prizes.
The contest ends March 31, and I’ll post up all the contributors (pseudonyms) as well as the raffle drawing video, within a few days. I’ll also list all recipients of donated funds, so you’ll know exactly where your donation is doing great things and see the cute little furry faces that would thank you if they could.
– Dana
Below, a fun plea from one of our participants in the first Raffle, ‘Angel’s Guardian Angel’ :
“We have all watched PBS at some point in our lives, and I don’t mean Sesame Street. An adult program that you would want to record for your video library, added to “burned” DVDs with the FBI warnings. These PBS programs are so exemplary that they have commercial breaks (which require a computer program with editing capabilities) on a network that advertises it is commercial-free. The best of PBS occurs during “pledge week” … which is a few weeks every year.
“Ms. Kane has something similar. She, however, does not guilt-trip you. But I will. I am AGA, the one who ironically added to Angel’s sentence with 360 more strokes. You know, Angel with the deer-in-the headlights expression. Angel should wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the word “scapegoat”. Poor thing. I could accuse anyone who contributed to Ms. Kane’s cause of animal rights as an accessory to a crime, but, hell, I want that video too. Probably the reason why I suggested a $1000 cap so I now have a 1-3 chance of winning it.
“Not that I want to see Angel in pain. I guiltily watch Ms. Kane videos on her website to study Ms. Kane. The consummate female sadist. Every male fantasy. Like the regal Evil Queen in Disney’s Snow White. Love her! … Ms. Kane, that is!
“But I digress. My plea to you to contribute to Ms. Kane’s fundraisers in the future. Even though it seems hypocritical that Ms. Kane supports animal rights while she mercilessly beats alleged transgressors, we all enjoy taking “pleasure” in watching her … doing it, of course. But really, viewers, you can’t expect to appreciate Ms. Kane’s body … of work, that is … without contributing to the valuable cause which she is advocating. Let’s have these “critters” given the treatment they deserve because they elicit joy whenever we connect with them … as long as the leash to what they are attached is in other’s hand or as long as litter boxes their are cleaned by their owners. Personally, I wiggle and smile when a strange dog tries to kiss me. I’m not sure if Rover really likes me or is in the tongue-cleaning process.
“In short, I stand behind Ms. Kane … probably trying to real the label from her designer jeans … and any cause that she supports.”
Angel’s Guardian Angel
Readers,
Maybe it’s that I’m at an age now where, had I had children of my own, I’d be trying to lay in some seriously long-lasting and meaningful life lessons; maybe it’s just because I’m smarter now than I was in my twenties. I certainly care more about other people, the world around me, and how I impact it all, than I did twenty years ago.
There’s also a really good chance that I know I have a somewhat ‘captive’ audience, as lots of folks come here to read about spanking, to which I may preach. Forgive me.
(zero segue)
So, what did you have for breakfast this morning? How about dinner last night?
Did it come out of a box or bag? Do you know what was in it? Do you know where it came from?
Are you sure?
Yeah, you have no idea. And neither do I. And that’s a Big Problem.
*Fair warning : As anyone who’s spent any amount of time whatsoever around me in recent years can attest, I can go off about this subject. Warm your coffee, get comfortable, and consider turning back now unless you really care what I think about things which have absolutely nothing to do with spanking.
Let’s start with a little information that’ll put us on more equal ground: Google “CAFO”. Read any of the first hundred articles which come up – or even better, just click the ‘image’ part of the search.
Now let that sit with you for a while.
That’s your food.
That’s what you had for breakfast this morning, and likely for dinner last night. It doesn’t matter whether you drove through the local fast food joint, ate at a high-end restaurant, or shopped in your local supermarket for food you prepared at home – it’s almost guaranteed that your meat products came from a CAFO.
Now let’s take one more foray into Google’s vast wealth of knowledge – search “GMO”. Same deal; same schtick. This is what you’re eating. The crap that they’re calling food.
Chemical company Monsanto owns the PATENT on most of the grain foods you eat now, and lots of the vegetables, and all of the stuff they feed CAFO animals. In other words, Monsanto is your supermarket. They’ve engineered foods to be able to live through repeated sprayings of RoundUp (that weed killer you buy at Walmart) – that’s right, folks, weed killer. Poison. The stuff that will kill you, kill your pets, and kill full grown trees….those people sell the seeds that grow the corn, wheat, and other ‘healthy’ stuff you buy.
And those CAFO animals? They’re pumped full of antibiotics to keep their feet rotting off while grown exponentially on feedlots – and they’re fed things that they’d NEVER eat in a million years given the choice. The antibiotics must be SO strong to keep down disease that they have to wash the processed meat in…ready for this?….ammonia – AMMONIA, to kill off the antibiotic properties before they’re passed on to us. But fear not! – we get the antibiotics anyway in the shit/sludge/runoff from these CAFO’s that goes directly into our lakes, rivers, and, eventually, drinking water.
Yummy.
If this little bit of information hasn’t changed the way you look at the things you put in your body, your kids and grandkids’ bodies, and your pets’ bodies, then hopefully it’s given you pause to think about the ‘lives’ lived by the animals we’re going to consume.
Educate yourself. Please.
Start with watching the documentary ‘Food, Inc.’. What? You don’t have 90 minutes to devote to living a healthier, more conscious life?
That’s what I thought.
**Look, I’m not soap-boxing here, and am not judging. I eat meat pretty regularly – but now I (granted, much more expensively) only buy grass fed beef, free range chicken, and Organic Everything as often as possible. There’s no more fast food, and few restaurant trips….but I’ll tell you something : I feel better.
And I want you to feel better, too.
Think about it…
– Dana
I’ve never met Betty Blaze, but I’ve seen a LOT of her films. She has the quintessential spanker top look and demeanor, and obviously knows how to give a real, hard spanking. Betty appears to work mainly with Real Spankings site Women Spanking Men, and I’ve not seen a scene where her bottom gets off lightly.
There’s even a place on the Women Spanking Men website where male bottoms may apply to work with Betty and the other tops in paid spanking video shoots – cool!
Ahem.
I mean butts, folks, calm yourselves.
Particularly, female butts.
I consider myself a longtime fan of, depending on your vernacular, the part of the female anatomy lovingly called : The Juicy Booty, A Large Backyard, Extra Junk in the Trunk, Fries with That Shake, Bubble Butt, and the universally known “Damn, look at the size of that ass!” (Yes, I know that most of those terms could be considered derogatory if a person were looking for something about which to become righteously indignant, but I stand by my assertion that all of the above are LOVINGLY listed. I should also point out that I use these same terms when referring to a gentleman’s equally-proportioned assets.)
It’s probably unlikely that there are many people on the planet who do not appreciate a well-shaped backside, whether they’re inclined to slap said backside repeatedly or not. I’m sure that there are also a zillion different personal definitions of ‘well-shaped’, as we are all different in our tastes.
And while I certainly appreciate a small, fit, toned, muscular, or petite female backside, there’s something gloriously and spectacularly visually overwhelming about the big, really big, ones.
Problem is, in this age of fix-everything-cosmetic-procedures, ‘real’ butts are nearly as hard to identify as non-Viagra-fueled erections – sometimes you just can’t tell from looking. Gals get fat from one part of their body injected into their bums; there’s all kinds of crazy fillers now, including collagen, and even (silicone!) butt cheek implants. I’ve even heard horrible stories of black market procedures where women’s butts are injected with fix-a-flat…this is not a joke.
The obsession with big butts obviously isn’t just mine, but the idea that women would go to such lengths to achieve a larger-than-life posterior perplexes me. Not because I’m averse to cosmetic tweaking, but because the results so rarely look natural.
A few examples, good and possibly otherwise: (*Note: I cannot say for sure whether any of the below have or have not altered their backsides with something other than diet and exercise; I can only offer my opinions. I could be absolutely and heinously wrong in each and every case.)
Coco Austin (personal favorite Large Backyard)
Coco has one of the most famous posteriors in modern celebrity culture. She’s the wife of Ice T and has at least partially built her fame on those gigantic assets you see in the photo on the right. I’ve always been a fan of watching Coco walk back and forth, bend over, and partake in any other movement which allowed me view of her backside. The photo on the left was taken at the beginning of her modeling career and shows a much much smaller rear-end. It seems like Coco’s done a bit more than just squat thrusts to achieve that gravity-defying, wrap-around booty, but I, for one, am not mad at her. (Is it just right, or too big? Does it matter if she’s had some help in that ‘department’?)
Kim Kardashian
Scandal-worthy behavior aside, Kim Kardashian has one of the most photographed bodies in current celebrity. She’s been scrutinized by nearly every person in the country for her weight fluctuations but one thing’s always been the same – her big ‘ol booty. Or has it? In the photo sequence above you’ll notice that Kim’s backside used to be what one would call relatively normal-sized, but in recent years has morphed into something resembling a satellite orbiting the back of her body. (Is this the payoff of hours and hours at the gym, or hours and hours at the doctor’s office? And, does it matter? Would you spank that?)
Blac Chyna
With all respect for personal choices, I hope rapper and video girl Blac Chyna isn’t into spanking, because I’m pretty sure that those implants would explode on impact.
Jennifer Lopez
Before anyone had ever heard of KK, Jennifer Lopez was the reigning queen of notable backsides. It’s easy to tell from her physique that this woman is in tip-top shape, and the lower back slope and narrower hips suggest, to me at least, that this is an All Natural Ass. (She’s admitted to Spanx, as have most women who can affort the spandex miracle. Is this simply nature at it’s best?)
Serena Williams
Go ahead, accuse repeated champion tennis player Serena Williams of having anything but a One Hundred Percent Natural Bottom…I dare you.
Beyoncé
Another fantasticall fit celeb, Beyoncé looks all natural – and if she’s not, who cares, ’cause whoo!
Nicki Minaj
If these before and after photos are to be believed, Nicki Minaj once had not just a less-than-large behind, but nearly none at all. Now, she’s famous for more than her singing and outlandish fashion – she’s become very well-known for that magically-appearing butt. (Last-minute genetic mutation? Overzealous cosmetic enhancement? Do we care?)
Jessica Biel
Jessica’s another star known for her fit lifestyle. Considering that, while she’s packing quite a lot of punch back there, it doesn’t look particularly out-of-proportion to the rest of her body or oddly high…looks like the Real Thing. (Spankable?)
Okay, okay, I could and would go on like this for quite some time, but you’ve probably experienced enough mindless butt-worship for one day.
Back to your regularly scheduled programming…
– Dana
Yes, Miss Katarina…
You’ll all likely recognize my gorgeous friend Katarina from her years of spanking performing on both sides of the paddle – most recently, she helped me teach my guy a lesson in our video “You Asked for It”.
I’m very tickled to announce that Katarina’s finally begun offering private spanking sessions, something she’s very good at and has been talking about for quite some time. She’s located in the Tahoe/Reno area, and will also be accepting limited travel appointments in select international metro areas.
Her new site, which is still in the process of being populated but already contains the info you need to schedule your very own Katarina discipline time, is:
http://www.disciplinebykatarina.blogspot.com/
For my current friends and playmates, please feel free to include me as a reference when contacting Katarina – I’ll be sure to tell her all the naughty things you deserved being spanked for!
– Dana
My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future. Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand. My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace. I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power. Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government. Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.
That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900’s written by Dorothy Spencer. She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking. She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air. The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved. According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted. The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court. The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline. Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles. Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.
The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes. Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior. Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday. Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling. Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.
Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent. I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again. When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt. You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle! I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.
Now a little more about me. I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder. I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet. These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society. As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power. I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric. He is very fit like me and a type A male. Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month. He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.
It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center. When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair. When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom. When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee. I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp. The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint. Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap. He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap. Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face. When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power. When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.
Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.
Most readers would probably be surprised at the number of couples I see in my travels. I think there’s an assumption that all professional disciplinarian’s playmates are men, which couldn’t be farther from the truth, as I have a whole bunch of female playmates, as well. But we’re going to talk about couples today, specifically couples who’re trying to work out their DD dynamics.
Yes, many of the couples with whom I play are bb’s (both bottoms), and in a few the female partner is the spankee, but in the great majority of cases the male partner is the (hopeful) spankee and his lady is his spanker.
Occasionally, my presence is simply a little added spice in what is already a regular and cohesive spanking regimen. Most of the time, though, I’m there to act as either an instructor/cheerleader for the possibly reluctant or less-than-confident spanker, or as the person who doesn’t have emotional connectedness to the bad boy in question and can therefore go much further in disciplining him than his loving spouse may feel comfortable doing herself. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of translating the spanko/partner’s language into something to which the non-spanko half of the couple can relate. And always – always – there is humor, because sometimes we just have to laugh at ourselves.
The most common email request I receive from couples goes something like this (usually, but not always, first contact comes from the spanko/male partner):
Hello Ms. Kane,
I’m 48 and my wife is 46. I’m a spanko and she’s not, but she does spank me sometimes. We’d both like her to enjoy it more so that it’ll happen more often, and we are hoping that you can help.
Thanks,
Dick and Jane
I LOVE getting these emails for a number of reasons. First, it’s nice to know that somewhere out there someone is getting spanked for something! Realistically, it’s even nicer to know that there are partners out there who are willing to indulge their mate’s peccadilloes – not out of obligation but out of love and an attempt to better understand. These women are almost never ‘real live spankos’, but many of them make great efforts to be present and knowledgeable in regard to their love’s fetish…not everyone’s that cool or dedicated. Also, I truly do believe the adage ‘the couple that plays together, stays together’, and it really doesn’t matter HOW you play, so long as you do.
My first advice to these couples is usually, ‘Don’t wait for it to happen. Make it happen.’ We can talk stuff to death without ever actually getting around to doing it, can’t we? There’s also the simple fact that the world will get in the way of our fun every chance it gets, so scheduling is important.
Scheduling fun, you say?
Hell yes.
Things don’t have to be spontaneous to be fun, you just can’t hang your expectations on those odds. So couples, plan that spanking! Every Tuesday at 9pm, or Sunday mornings without fail. Before long, you’ll be in a regular routine that both of you look forward to equally, and nobody’s blaming anybody else for the lack of spanking going on.
Then it’s just a matter of Practice Makes Perfect – not even the most hardcore spanking fetishists come out of the box with perfecto spanking skills, and a non-spanko partner will need the chance to build confidence with intensity, technique, and implement usage, just like anyone else would. The difference is, she’s not the one thinking about spanking when she goes to sleep every night, so the natural fetishist drive isn’t there – that means learning the right techniques may take longer, or may be more difficult. The worst thing a spanko partner can do in this situation is criticize – and the last thing that the non-spanko spanker can do is apologize. Confidence is critical, and that’s one of the main things we work on in couples sessions. Whether she feels it or not, it should be projected…kind of a ‘fake it til you make it’ psychology, but it works. Before you know it, that projected confidence is so practiced that it comes naturally – then it belongs to her, and your butt is toast.
And isn’t that all most of us really want in life…a toasty butt?
– Dana
Readers,
Last but certainly not least in the Future Spank contest, here’s an entry aptly titled ‘Future Story’. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.
– Dana
‘Future Story’
I open my eyes to a room with soft, white light.
“Welcome back,” says a tall woman who is standing over me with a tablet. “You’ve been out for quite a while.”
“Out?” I ask, trying to understand what she is talking about, or even where I am for that matter.
She gives me a small smile and shakes her head. “I forget that none of you ever seems to remember what’s happening for the first few moments. Not to worry, it will all come back to you soon enough.”
I am in a bed, wearing a gown very similar to what I am always given for a medical exam, and this woman appears to be reading a file about me.
“Am I in the hospital?” I ask, still very confused.
“Not quite,” she explains, still glancing down at the tablet. “We have been monitoring your health the entire time you’ve been here though.”
“Where is here, and how long have I been here?” I ask.
Looking up from the tablet, her expression grows more serious. “Do you remember anything about discussing a program that would allow you to deal with problems in the future that you were unable to resolve when you came to us?”
While I am not entirely sure of what she is talking about, I do have a vague memory concerning a therapist telling me about a new technique that would allow people to take time away from the stress of everyday life and deal with that stress at a point in the future. I must have decided to take a break from my normal life for a few months, because I can also remember the thought of briefly escaping from everything seeming appealing.
“I remember something about that,” I confirm, sitting up to continue the conversation. “Did I decide to spend a few months here?”
She frowns slightly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This is going to come as a bit of a shock to you, but it’s actually been many years since you entered into our program. Your original paperwork did request a shorter stay, but it seems like there was a glitch shortly after you came here. In our move to program everything into computers and go paperless, a careless assistant typed in the wrong release date for you.”
As I try to process what she has told me, I feel panic setting in, quickly replaced by anger and confusion. “What the hell do you mean, years? How many years? Do you know how hard it’s going to be for me to explain being away for years? I probably don’t have a job anymore, and this will be a huge shock to my friends and family. How could you screw up so badly with something so important?”
“Watch your tone with me, young lady,” she says firmly, setting the tablet aside and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “I know this is difficult to hear, but if you will just listen, I plan to explain everything.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, taking a deep breath. “The news that I have been away from everything for years is just overwhelming. I realize that it isn’t your fault personally.”
“I understand,” she assures me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You were out for much longer than intended, and things have changed quite a bit since your time. Will you please let me explain everything to you?”
I nod, not sure of what to say.
“The first thing I want you to understand is that since the mistake on your records was an error on our part, we plan to take full responsibility for helping you with the adjustment period you will be facing. I have personally requested to be your full time counselor for as long as you need any help,” she informs me.
“Can’t I just let people I already know help with that?” I ask, thinking that I really should see about calling a friend to get a ride home.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but you were out for over fifty years,” she says, looking very concerned. “There is nobody on your contact list who is still around.”
“BUT I DON’T LOOK ANY OLDER,” I shriek, feeling the panic rise again.
“What did I tell you about your tone, young lady?” she says. “I know this is alarming, but you will behave in a civil manner with me. There have been quite a few advances in medical technology over the past fifty years, and the reason you don’t look older is because you have been given regular doses of a formula that prevents you from aging while you are not active. It’s a service provided to every client we see.”
It occurs to me that I am lucky not to have aged, because waking up older would be too much to process on top of everything else that has happened.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” my counselor tells me sympathetically, “but I am here to make sure that you are going to be alright. I would like to get the mechanical medics in here to examine you, then, we can go over some of the issues you wanted help with when you first got here if that’s okay. Do you have any questions?”
“What is a mechanical medic?” I ask, nervously.
“Roughly thirty years ago, hospitals developed very advanced software and machinery that can be much faster and more precise than humans at performing most medical tasks and analyzing data. Human doctors are still in charge, but we prefer to use the technology available to us to ensure a much more thorough and accurate exam,” she explains. “The whole process usually doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes, and I will be observing everything. Is there anything else you would like to know?”
“What is your name?” I ask her.
“You can call me Dr. M,” she says.
To my surprise, the exam with the mechanical medics is nowhere near as unpleasant as I originally imagined it would be. Both devices enter the room with a movement similar to that of a remote controlled toy car, then, quickly produce gadgets that look a bit like smartphones.
“Most of the data needed for an examination can be taken with simple scans these days,” Dr. M informs me, keeping her eye on the medics. “And since your health was monitored during your entire stay, it won’t take long to compare the data collected not with records already on file. The main point of this exam is to make sure that you are still in good physical condition after being inactive.”
After a few short minutes of scans, both mechanical medics leave. Dr. M makes a few notes on her tablet, then, informs me that the exam found me to be perfectly healthy.
“The next thing I would like to do is discuss some of your initial reasons for coming here. Do you think you are ready for that right now?” she asks me.
My memory from my time prior to waking up in my current situation is still not entirely clear, but maybe, something she plans to discuss will help me recall more details.
“I’m ready,” I tell her.
She reads from her tablet for a moment before speaking. “I see from your file that you had a lot of trouble dealing with some of the responsibilities in your everyday life. Does that sound familiar?”
Now, I do remember more about why I came here in the first place. I remember how I felt overwhelmed at work, and how most of my life had seemed very chaotic, largely because I had trouble planning for the future and had ended up just going from one event to the next without any goals or thoughts of what would happen next. I also remember being unsatisfied with the direction that things were going in my work and personal life, but every time I thought about steps I could take to improve the situation, I got anxious and talked myself out of ever doing anything.
“I can remember why I needed help in the first place,” I tell her. “I remember that I didn’t do the best job of living as a well-rounded, responsible adult, but I wasn’t sure how to fix that problem, so I decided to avoid dealing with it at all for a little while.”
Dr. M nods, giving me a stern look. “I think you have summed up your troubles perfectly. Fortunately for you, there is a very simple way to resolve some of those issues. It’s just a shame that you weren’t provided with it in your time, because I am quite sure it was available fifty years ago.”
“What is the solution?” I ask, curious to find out what she is talking about. “If you have a medication to keep me young, there must be a drug you can give me that will make confident enough to do everything I need. Is it something like that?”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” Dr. M answers, shaking her head. “For all of the advances we have made in behavioral health, we find that there are times when the old methods still work the best. You, young lady, do not need a magic drug or quick fix for the issues that caused you to struggle. You need to learn some self-discipline, and it will be my job to help you with that.”
“How are you planning to help me?” I ask, thinking that this conversation is starting to sound very much like one of the past lectures I would have received from my parents or one of my teachers.
“We are going to work together on coming up with a list of goals that you will work towards in order to avoid getting back into the negative habits you had in the past, and I am going to start providing you with consequences for any negative or self-defeating behaviors, usually in the form of physical punishment,” she states.
“You’re going to spank me?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes,” she replies, grinning with amusement at my disbelief. “If you aren’t capable of acting like a mature adult, you certainly aren’t going to be treated like one. From what I gathered by reading your file, I think you’ve needed a good spanking for a long time, and I fully intend to give you one.”
Setting her tablet aside, Dr. M comes to sit at the edge of the bed again. “I think we should begin now,” she says, taking me by the hand. “It’s better if we address your previous behavior so that you can start with a clean slate.”
Realizing what is about to happen, I try to pull my hand away from her.
“Don’t fight me,” she orders, pulling me across her lap effortlessly in spite of my struggling.
My muscles are all much weaker than they should be from lack of use over the past fifty years, and I quickly realize that any attempt to escape her grip is going to be pointless. Because there is nothing else I can do, I quit trying to pull away and allow her to position me across her knees.
“That’s much better,” she responds, raising the gown above my waist and quickly removing my panties. “This won’t be easy, but you know that you have earned it.”
Without further delay, she begins to deliver firm slaps with her palm. “Things are going to be very different for you,” she lectures, continuing to spank. “You are going to make the effort to take responsibility for your own life, and believe me, you will end up with a very sore bottom if you don’t change your behavior.”
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, now squirming every time her hand strikes. My skin is quickly growing very sensitive, and I am amazed at how much pain I am feeling from just her hand.
“I’m sure you are sorry now,” she replies, increasing the intensity of the spanking, “and you will be very sorry every time I have to do this. But I want you to understand, it really is for your benefit.”
Several minutes pass, and I take the rest of the spanking in silence except for the occasional yelp or whimper. By the time we are finished, she has managed to bring forth a few tears. This experience has been painful, but I also find that I am feeling much calmer than I have in the past few hours since waking up.
“It’s over,” she assures me, rubbing my back gently. “You were a very good girl to take that without too much trouble.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“You’re very welcome,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “I know that wasn’t fun, but I think you will find that it is going to help you tremendously.”
“I’m just glad that you don’t have some sort of machine to deal with punishments,” I say, laughing a little. “Your hand was hard enough.”
“Oh, there are mechanical discipline devices,” she informs me with an evil grin, “but there are still a few things that I believe are better when left to humans.”
“What will I do now?” I ask her.
“You will trust me to help you for the time being,” she says. “Things are very different from when you came in here, and it’s going to be a big adjustment, but I think you will have a lot to look forward to in the future.”
“How different are things?” I ask. “Will I get to have robots do everything for me or have a car that can drive itself?”
She grins, shaking her head at me. “Young lady, the whole reason you got into this situation in the first place was from not being able to take care of things yourself. The last thing you need is to depend on technology that will allow that problem to continue.”
“Well, if I’m not going to be using all kinds of new technology, what am I going to be doing?” I ask, my tone getting slightly whiney.
“Well, I can see another spanking in your immediate future if you want to pout,” she says, taking me by the arm again.
“No,” I protest. “I get it. I promise, I will work on taking care of things for myself.”
“Alright,” she says, letting go of my arm and getting up from the bed. “I have some work to finish up, and I want you to get a little rest. I will be back to check on you shortly.”
I settle back into bed, whimpering a little when my sore bottom first makes contact with the bed.
“I have a feeling that you will be sleeping on your stomach quite a bit at first,” Dr. M says, smiling at me before she steps out of the room.
I laugh a little too knowing that she is probably right. As I start falling asleep, I think about what my life is going to be like in the future. It seems that I won’t be playing with robots or driving flying cars for the time being, but I think I will be okay.
“At least she didn’t get the robots to spank me,” I mutter to myself before drifting off to sleep.
I try to be reasonably well-informed about the food I eat and the products I use, more so now than ever before, and that includes the yummy-girly-sniffy stuff, too.
You can’t walk into any drugstore, department store, supermarket, or even 99cent place without seeing hundreds (or thousands) of ‘beauty products’ – stuff geared (mostly) toward women that’s supposed to make us look, smell, and feel better. Problem with most of that stuff is that it’s a)terrible for you b)terrible for the environment c)tested on cute little tortured bunnies or d)all of the above. Really. Most of the stuff that they sell you in the beauty aisle is runoff from petrochemical processing and chemical by-product. Does that make you feel at all pretty or fresh? Yeah, me either.
After a playmate gifted me with an unbelievably-great-smelling gift box from Lush Cosmetics (lushusa.com), I was immediately hooked. The first thing I noticed after the scent was the large ‘Stop Animal Testing’ logo on their packaging (which is very mimimal, by the way, as they’re pro-reuse/recycle/biodegradable, too). None of the Lush product line contain animal products, and many are completely vegan – they even make zero-impact, beeswax free lip conditioner that is out of this world. Right down to the packing peanuts in their shipped boxes, which are made from biodegradable rice puff rather than unrecyclable styrofoam! It’s also worth mentioning that not only is each and every product in their line packaged and inspected by a specific company employee, LUSH is headquartered in Vancouver, BC, and all their products are sourced and produced right there in Canada.
So this stuff’s real hippy-dippy, you’re thinking, which is fine for girls who wear birkenstocks and don’t shave their legs, but not for Regular People….wrong. This stuff is really excellent, lasts forever, and is very reasonably priced when considering the great good done by leaving out tortured bunnies, clear-cut rainforests, and multi-syllabic chemical compounds nobody could ever really identify.
I’ve become somewhat preoccupied with eliminating as much chemical-infused junk as possible, so I’ve incorporated lots of their products already, and I love each and every one of them. The solid shampoo bars they make (amazing idea!) smell divine (I use Godiva), last forever, and lather better than the very best salon shampoo. My hair actually feels clean after using it and smells insanely good for hours. The bath gels are all scrumptious, but I prefer It’s Raining Men – a kind of sexy, honey scent that leaves skin (and hair!) moisturized and glowing. Then there’s Fresh Farmacy, quite possibly the best cleanser I’ve found for my…ahem…mature yet still-prone-to-spots skin. I could go on and on here, including the solid patchouli-scented Aromaco deodorant which is the BEST deodorant I’ve ever used, ever.
Check out LUSH online, or at one of their US boutiques, and tell me that you don’t absolutely love at least five things you find there. (And the bunnies will thank you.)
– Dana
PS. Also, as you may have guessed, I’m enjoying writing outside the spanking theme more lately, and have categorized these posts as Totally Unrelated to Spanking in the ‘Favorite Subjects’ navigation in the right-hand sidebar.
PPS. I’m not being paid to gush about LUSH, nor do I get a coupon or cookie for the rave review. I just really like their products, and especially respect their ethics.
‘Disengaging Autodrive’ is just another example of the creativity of spanko minds at work in the Future Spank story contest. Enjoy!
– Dana
Disengaging Autodrive
———————
Jeff Miller was the kind of self-absorbed jerk that gets promoted to Vice-President just a little too quickly. He stood at the point in his office where the south and the west windows intersected and looked far down to the roof of the executive parking structure, his eyes fixed on a single vehicle parked there. He had parked on the roof instead of in the covered parking this morning so that he could observe his new Nikola sportscar from a new angle several times throughout the day. The sun in the west window was almost parallel to the floor now, and it was Friday, and it was time to go.
The Nikola was a purchase that people like Jeff made when they wanted to show off. It was beautifully put together and very powerful, but it was also three times the price of the sweatshop-made warehouse-club cars that most people used, barely any bigger, and only slightly more comfortable. For all the power that the Nikola had, it was a slave to the ubiquitous autodrive feature that guided every car on the road to its destination, which meant that it didn’t actually arrive any faster than the cheapest plastic bubble on the road. But it was beautiful, and sitting in one told the world that you had more money than them, which is why Jeff had to have one.
On the ride this morning, the Nikola’s autodrive had moved him efficiently from home to work while Jeff had used the heads-up display to read some messages, surf the web, watch the news, and make some video calls. He hadn’t even touched the Nikola’s steering wheel nor any of the pedals. As he slid into the soft leather seat of the Nikola for his evening commute he instructed the car, “Nikola, take me home.”
“Destination set: home. Enjoy your ride,” replied the car.
Before the car had started, Jeff blurted out, “Wait. Screw it. Disengage autodrive.” A small smile spread across Jeff’s lips.
“Command not understood.”
“Nikola, Disengage autodrive.” Jeff’s smile faded.
“Are you sure?” Asked the car.
“Dis-engage-auto-drive!” Jeff shouted.
The car began to display and read a section from it’s user manual, “Mandatory government warning: Since 2025, all vehicles have been fitted with mandatory autodrive capability for your safety and efficiency. Disabling autodrive is highly discouraged and is for emergency use only. A $20 per mile tax will be assessed upon vehicles driving without autodrive to compensate the victims of road accidents. User is solely responsible for all traffic violations incurred while driving without autodrive. To continue to disengage autodrive, you must digitally sign a waiver by scanning your thumb on the fingerprint reader. Continue?”
Jeff’s smile was gone and he muttered something about the “bloody nanny state” under his breath. He swiped his thumb across the fingerprint reader and a moment later a small whirring sound announced the appearance of the steering wheel and pedals from a hiding place behind the dashboard. He flicked the start button, tapped the Nikola into forward gear, and eased silently out of the parking lot.
In his college days, Jeff drove one of the last gas-powered sportscars made, too old to be fitted with autodrive, and too much fun. He got his fair share of speeding tickets too, and under the government’s financial-means-tested penalty policy, when he was a college student he didn’t make enough money to be assessed a financial penalty. Not being assessed a penalty didn’t mean getting off lightly though.
When the government first introduced a financial-means-tested sliding scale of financial penalties for misdemeanors based on people’s ability to pay, there was a huge complaint from the middle classes. Average people’s nest-eggs for vacations and bigger TVs were eaten away by fines, whereas college students with no assets and little income got small fines or no fines at all. College students started to commit misdemeanors for fun knowing that they would not have to pay a fine for it. Something had to be done. A year later, the so-called ‘spanking bill’ passed through the government easily.
The government’s spanking bill meant that those who were getting away without paying a fine would now be physically punished instead. It was usually 12 strokes of an 8mm diameter, meter-long synthetic cane. Rather than having a sweaty police officer haphazardly striking the offenders, a spanking robot was developed that could clinically strike the offender’s bottom, with equal force in each stroke, and place the strokes parallel and slightly separated so as not to overlap the strokes. A room in the police station was used for the canings, and a police officer was present in case of a machine malfunction.
Jeff had received about 10 canings over the course of his college career, more than anyone he knew. The first ones were pretty scary, but after a while he realized that the canings weren’t that bad; the pain went away with aspirin and beer, and the marks went away after a few days. He even played “naughty speeder and angry police officer” with his college girlfriend from time to time and thoroughly enjoyed being on the receiving end of the inevitable spanking, but he was too stupid at the time to keep her as his girlfriend. Once he had graduated from college, he cleaned up his act and got a real job, he was assessed a few financial penalties for speeding, but then he replaced his old gas-guzzler with an electric autodrive car and never received a ticket after that.
Tonight, the fun was back. With the autodrive disengaged and Jeff at the wheel of the powerful Nikola, he surged past clusters of autodrive cars causing them to move erratically as they adjusted their trajectories for the single non-autodrive car around them, awakening their drivers or interrupting their entertainment. At some point in Jeff’s journey, a yellow light illuminated on the Nikola’s dashboard, indicating that he was exceeding the speed limit, but Jeff knew this section of freeway and knew that they had taken down the speed cameras years ago, and that it wouldn’t have a motorcycle patrol on it unless there was an accident. Besides, with his new salary, he knew he could easily afford whatever financial penalty that might be assessed for a speeding ticket.
As soon as Jeff arrived home and put the Nikola into park, he accepted an incoming video call on the Nikola’s heads-up display. It was the image of a female police officer, about his age, attractive, and somehow familiar. “This is officer Kane from the city police. Jeff Miller, your vehicle has reported that you have exceeded the speed limit at mile marker 217 of the President Wendy Davis Memorial Freeway at 6:15PM tonight, Friday the 23rd of March. Do you wish to contest the ticket?”
“Rat Bastard,” thought Jeff to himself – he had been turned in by his own car! There was no point in arguing, the police undoubtedly had all the evidence they needed from the Nikola’s telemetry. All that was left to do was to pay the fine. “No, Ma’am,” replied Jeff.
“Very well, report to the police station in precinct 7 immediately. I’ll send the coordinates to your autodrive,” said the image of the woman.
Jeff thought this was all wrong. Normally when you get a fine you just put your thumb on the fingerprint reader and pay it from your vehicle. Why did he need to go to the station? “Officer Kane, how much is the means-tested penalty for this offense? I’ll happily pay it by thumbprint right here on my dashboard,” said Jeff.
“The penalty is 18 strokes of a 12mm diameter, 1 meter synthetic cane. Report to the police station immediately. Officer Kane out.” The image disappeared.
Jeff’s mind raced. How could this be? Then it dawned on him, when means-tested financial penalties were introduced, there was a public outcry when financial penalties were being assessed on people with high salaries that were more costly than the cars the offenses were being committed in. The government’s spanking bill had both a lower salary limit and an upper salary limit, and his new salary put him above the limit. As he re-engaged the autodrive, the Nikola’s steering wheel retreated into the dashboard as if it had taken a cold shower.
Officer Kane was waiting on the steps of the police station as Jeff pulled up, having been alerted of Jeff’s arrival by the Nikola’s telemetry. Jeff got out of the car and instructed it to find the nearest available parking. Officer Kane was an amazing sight with her dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and muscular body displayed beautifully in her aerodynamic skin-tight motorcycle officer’s uniform. She was also taller than Jeff due to the tall stiletto heels on her boots that engage into the motorcycle’s safety system.
“Nice outfit,” said Jeff. “Do I know you?”
“Nice car,” replied officer Kane. “You’d better hope not.”
“Can I take you for a ride later?” Asked Jeff.
“You’re going to be taking a serious caning, Mr Miller. You’re not going to want to ride anything afterwards. Let’s go inside,” and with that, Officer Kane led Jeff into the punishment room that was just off the station lobby.
The punishment room was similar to the ones Jeff remembered from his college days, simply furnished with a punishment frame in the center, a punishment robot just off to the side of the frame, a coatrack, and a selection of canes on the wall, with the 12mm one being the thickest.
“Remove all your clothing and place it on the coatrack,” instructed Officer Kane, “and scan your thumb over the punishment docket.” Jeff did as he was told. Officer Kane then led Jeff over to the punishment frame and secured the straps for his wrists, upper arms, waist, upper thighs, and ankles. No movement was possible, ensuring an accurate, safe and even set of stripes from the punishment robot. Officer Kane loaded the 12mm cane into the punishment robot and gave it a fearsome-sounding test ‘swoosh’ before locking the robot in position.
Officer Kane stood in front of the punishment frame, face to face with Jeff. “Jeff Miller, you have been sentenced to 18 strokes of the 12mm diameter cane for the offenses listed in the punishment docket. You have declined a court trial. Your punishment begins now,” said officer Kane dispassionately, and then she lifted the safety cover on the spanking robot master control, dialled in 18 strokes, flicked the start button, and returned to the front of the spanking frame so she could study Jeff’s face.
The first stroke exploded on to Jeff’s backside, near the top of his buttocks. He yelled out in pain for a short moment until the second stroke landed just a little below the first. He was preoccupied with his pain but briefly noticed officer Kane studying his face intently. The third and fourth strokes elicited loud grunts from Jeff. The fifth stroke surprised him, despite being perfectly aimed and timed by the punishment robot, and he opened his eyes to notice that officer Kane was no longer standing in front of him. The sixth stroke landed and made him gasp, and then he heard a small click. The seventh stroke was late.
“Machine malfunction,” announced Officer Kane. “I’m going to have to complete the punishment manually.” Jeff heard the sound of the cane being removed from the punishment robot. “I’ll just move the punishment robot out of the way, after all, I need my space,” said officer Kane with a slightly sarcastic tone.
It was in that moment that Jeff realized where he recognized Officer Kane from. The words, “I need my space” were the last words that Jeff had texted to his college girlfriend. They were both older, and she had been working out, and had changed her hair, and was using a married name, and was taller in stiletto boots than the flats she wore in college, but it was definitely her. And he knew the rest of his punishment wasn’t going to be any easier.
“Disengaging the autodrive? Mr Miller, you should know better.” With that came three quick strikes from the cane, perfectly landing below the other ones, and if anything they were harder than the ones the robot had delivered. “Did you know you could have killed someone?” chided Officer Kane, before delivering three hard strokes right on top of one another in the crease between his buttocks and upper thighs that bruised almost immediately.
Jeff let out a yell and then grunted a “No Ma’am” as best he could. He was sweating hard.
“Six more,” announced officer Kane, “Did you know you’d be punished?” She landed three hard ones barely a second apart across the tops of his thighs creating three more bright stripes.
Jeff struggled against the restraints and then succumbed, grunting a further “No Ma’am”.
“Did you know that I have punishment duty on Mondays and Fridays?” Asked officer Kane, before delivering the last three strokes at an angle, intersecting several of the stripes on the fleshy part of his buttocks and causing him to squeal in pain.
“No Ma’am, but I do now” replied Jeff. Jeff relaxed a little against the restraints and unclenched his buttocks, exhausted from the ordeal. Then he heard a couple of quick footsteps behind him and felt an immense pain squarely across his backside and extending around his side as the tip of the cane wrapped around and struck his hip. Jeff yelled out as a piece of the synthetic cane snapped off and hit the wall. Officer Kane had used all her strength for that 19th stroke, and had surprised herself a little by breaking one of the so-called “unbreakable” canes.
“That one’s from me. Now get out of here,” said officer Kane as she undid the straps, “and you’d better hope you don’t get another punishment from me.”
While Jeff was dressing, he noticed that the spanking robot looked fine, other than that the emergency stop had been depressed. He thanked Officer Kane, gingerly walked out of the station, called the Nikola over to the station steps, and let the autodrive take him home while he lay face-down across the back seat.
Over the course of the weekend, and with the help of some aspirin and good whisky, Jeff’s pain subsided to a dull glow and he felt rather good about the incident. So much so in fact, that the following Monday evening Jeff left work as the sun was setting, disengaged the autodrive on his Nikola, joined the freeway, and pressed the accelerator down until the yellow light came on.
New Spanko Survey time – this time we’re talking all about hands – hand spanking and all the extras. If you’re a fan of handspanking, you’ll have fun with this one.
…there’s also a link at the top of the blog with the survey embedded, in case you want to come back to it later. After enough responders have completed the survey, I’ll post the preliminary stats.
Readers,
Here’s a sweet little untitled entry to the Future Spank story contest – what a wealth of riches we’ve had with this contest!
– Dana
It was my final year at high school and we were about to graduate. My teacher was Dana10/93, who is a robot. Robotic teachers have largely replaced humans as teachers because they can teach multiple
She had arranged a trip to New Zealand as part of a cultural exchange and we were learn about the Maori
people and their way of life. Before the trip, we received a lessons on Maori protocols and how to behave
when meeting and greeting them.
The school Jetbus picked Angela and I from our homes and whisked us to Las Vegas International Airport
where we boarded a hypersonic Hyperjet. A couple of hours later we landed at Auckland International
Airport in New Zealand where we boarded another Jetbus and then we disembarked at a Maori village in the city of Rotorua.
As soon as we stepped off the Jetbus we were greeted by a Maori woman singing in Maori. When we
entered the village we were suddenly confronted by a Maori Warrior approaching us waving a spear, poking out
his tongue and challenging me to pick up the branch of a tree that lay on the ground in front of me.
Although all our class had been briefed on the correct way to respond to the Maori challenge, Angela and I
had planned for our class and to go wait on the Jetbus, but the Maori Elders convinced her to let Angela and I
After a delicious dinner which Angela and I rather guiltily ate, we enjoyed the entertainment our Maori hosts had
laid on for us, and then it was time to say good bye to our new Maori friends. Then Miss Dana confronted Angela and I.
“Firstly let me say how I am very angry and disappointed in you two for the extremely rude and totally insensitive behaviour to our Maori hosts. You have not only let yourselves down but also sullied the good name and reputation of our school and for that you two will be punished”
“I have sent a video of you two’s appalling behaviour to your parents and they have allowed me punish you
We reported to Miss Dana for detention as ordered. She was dressed in an nineteenth century
school mistress attire and we entered a holographic recreation of historic American classroom.
Then Miss Dana addressed Angela and I :
“I have sent a report and copy of the video to the Principal and School Board of you two’s behaviour in New
Zealand and they have recommended to me that I should not allow you two to graduate. However I have
convinced the them both that is far too severe of a punishment. With both your parents permission, I will
be punishing you both the way rude and disrespectful children were punished in the novel The Adventures of
Tom Sawyer”.
Angela and my hearts sank. We had both read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer as part of our lessons on
I immediately yelled in pain, jumped up and began frantically rubbing my bottom. Tears began welling in my eyes.
Miss Dana immediately commanded me to bend over the desk again.
“You have completely disregarded my instructions to you about moving and your hands.That will be two
extra strokes. You also failed to count the stroke and thank me. I will now recommence your caning”
CRAAACKK!!! The caning re-started. My bottom felt as if someone applied a red hot branding iron to it.
I began to cry and just managed to whisper “One thank you Miss Dana”
CRAAACKK!!! “Two thank you Miss Dana”
CRAAACKK!!! “Three thank you Miss Dana” I was crying uncontrollably by now.
CRAAACKK!!! “Four thank you Miss Dana”. I could barely speak. I had never experienced anything so painful
in my life.
CRAAACKK!!! “Five thank you Miss Dana”. By now my bottom was a mass of stinging, throbbing and aching
agony.
CRAAACKK!!! “Six thank you Miss Dana”
Suddenly my caning stopped and Miss Dana inspected my bottom and lightly rubbed it. It felt so good and I
thought my ordeal was over. She then walked over to the front of me and spoke to me.
“You have taken your punishment remarkably well but you still have two extra strokes to endure. See if you
can get through it without any extra strokes”
She then walked to take up her position behind me and I heard an ominous “Whooop” as she swished the
cane and I felt the three light taps on my bottom again.
CRAAACKK!!! I howled in agony and just managed to blurt out “Seven thank you Miss Dana”
CRAAACKK!!! My bottom was in so my pain I had to rub my bottom. In the nick of time I just remembered
to whisper “Eight thank you Miss Dana”
Miss Dana patiently waited for me to finish rubbing my bottom. “You forgot my rule about placing your hand on your bottom. For that you will receive an extra stroke. For you sake I hope it is your final one”
CRAAAACCKKK!!! My final stroke was delivered with real venom and and was the hardest of the lot. I
screamed in agony and in between my sobs just managed to say “Nine thank you Miss Dana”
I then slumped over the desk bawling.
I then felt Miss Dana hand as she applied her ointment to my bottom and almost immediately the pain and
welts that have covered my bottom began to disappear. I still had faint red stripes on my bottom when I looked in the mirror at home.
Miss Dana then ordered me to pull up my trousers and to sit down at my desk. I sat down rather gingerly
and then Angela and I continued with the rest of our detention which consisted of us composing an apology
in Maori which we did using a Universal Translator and International Languages Database. We then sent the
apology to the Maori Elders in Rotorua New Zealand.
After an immensely fun and successful first Give til it Hurts raffle (see info and links in the top tab), where the prize was a set of spanking implements and awesome video featuring Angel, it’s time to do another fun thing – with PRIZES – for a great cause.
That’s right, I said prizes, with an s, as in plural. To make this as much fun as possible, and to give donors another chance to win, I’ll be holding TWO drawings for this raffle.
The winner of Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2 will receive:
1 Year FREE Membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com !
Unlimited Member Access to over 200 full-length F/M and F/F spanking scenes, POVs, Product Testing with Dana Kane series, and more. Updated Weekly.
…and one Runner Up will receive a FREE 30 day membership to the site.
RAFFLE TICKETS ARE ONLY $5 EACH.
($5 = 1 TICKET; $25 = 5 TICKETS; $100 = 20 TICKETS; ETC)
Buying raffle tickets (and helping animals in need) is simple – just email me at DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com and let me know how many tickets you’d like. You may choose to pay either through Paypal or with your credit card.
* Raffle runs from March 3 – March 31, 2014. Every single cent donated will go directly to reputable animal charities. All donation totals and organizations in receipt of funds will be posted publicly, with individual donor information always kept confidential. (Payment processors charge percentages of donations, both coming and going…I kick in those percentages so that no money donated is lost on hidden charges.) I’ll also video the drawing so that everyone knows that there’s no favoritism and everything’s on the up and up.
** Purchase price of 1 year membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com is $299.40, at $24.95 for a single month.
*** If you have any questions or would like to nominate your favorite animal charity to receive funds from Give Til it Hurts, please email me directly: danakanespanks@gmail.com.
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Spankos, Bloggers, Social Media Butterflies, and all animal lovers in general:
PLEASE help us get the word out about the ‘Give Til it Hurts’ fundraising efforts – every post, share, tweet, facebook/tumblr/reddit/instagram/etc gives us more chances to help animals in need. (And now I’ve made it super simple for you – just click one (or all!) of the share buttons at the top of the post.)
Short, sweet, and powerful, I think you’re going to like ‘The New Toy’ – another entry in the Future Spank story contest.
– Dana
The new toy
My eyes flickered open to the red glow of the morning sun. I rubbed my eyes as usual and stretched. A familiar voice greeted me. “Good morning Ms Anderson. Here is your morning coffee and newspaper. I took the liberity of downloading all of the morning news and events that you usually follow. Would you like your morning update?” I declined and just held out my hand. Robert, my 6000 series, handed me the digital file. As I plugged it into my digitizer the morning briefing came online.
There was no bad news today as like every other day. It is so much better then it was before. No rape, no murder and no one being murdered. The new robots took care of that. They were quite good and were almost indistinguishable from humans. Their only flaw logic. Emotion is something that can not be programmed in.
As I sat and thought about the days task my mind kept wondering. The new 6000 series was supposed to follow every command. They were made to keep their owners satisfied in every way possible. They were even able to respond and react to sexual pleasure and tonight I was going to test out how well they would respond to something else. I wanted him to give me the spanking of my life. It wasn’t because I was punishing myself or because I had done something wrong, The digitizer located behind my left ear made sure of that. I was just because I liked it. There was something about being bent over over by him that I had fantasized about. I sat down at my computer and I put together several files for me to upload into his system. I knew once I uploaded everything there was no going back.
The ride to the office was the same boring thing. Cars were fitted with magnetic pulsars and roads were polarized differently . They took the same technology from a old bullet train that rode on magnetic rails and implemented them into cars. Getting rid of pollution and the need for fuel all together. The office was just about as boring. The one good thing here was that everyone was still human. I liked running the leading software company in the world. Everyday I get to face challenges that that is what I liked but today my mind was not in it and the day just seemed to drag on.
When I arrived home Robert was not there to greet me as usual. I called for him but he didnt answer. I figured he must be charging. I hung up my bad and placed my shoes next to the door and started to walk inside When all of a sudden I felt a hand grab my arm. I turned around in shock to see that it was Robert. I struggled against him but it was useless. I might as well have been an kitten trying to escape. He led me to the bedroom and pulled me across his lap. In less then a second my skirt and panties were torn off. Then it landed, the first hit. It felt like fire had torn across my ass and I flinched and tried to get away but it was useless. Blow after blow his hand landed first the right cheek then the left. There was no area that was being missed. I continued to struggle but it was in vane. Tears were streaming down my face and I pleaded with him to stop. My pleas were only answered by another blow. Before I knew it my struggling had turned into grinding as the blows came faster and faster. I reached my peak and as I lay drenched and crying across his lap the blows stopped. He gently lifted me up and began to caresses my face. I folded into his arms and sobbed quietly. Thank you Robert I needed that. Now delete all files.
Then end.