Ms. Dana Kane – Professional Disciplinarian
"Hold still long enough and I'll spank you, too."
Loading…
Readers,
In addition to all the time spent bratting, tweeting, and being spanked, Angel also finds plenty of time to think, write, and create beautiful artwork. She is smart, deep, and boldly honest in her writings. Lately she’s been putting more time into her blog at AngelSpanked.com and turning out quite a lot of interesting, multi-faceted posts on everything from scenes we’ve done to personal artworks, including a recent poll on best reasons to spank her (umm…I wasn’t aware that I needed one, but I digress).
Angel speaks openly about her experiences, feelings, opinions, and spankings, and her word skills are excellent. You’ll not find much of ‘Bratty Angel’ on the blog, at least not yet, as it seems that most of the posts are written from a much more responsible perspective than the one sometimes encountered by yours truly. Fun posts, like this practical-ode to Cheyenne Jewel’s bottom, and informative stuff, like this post on bruises and welts, prove that Angel is putting her time to good use (and hopefully not getting up to any trouble).
I’m having fun reading, and you probably will, too.
– Dana
Readers,
It seemed like time to redesign the blog a bit, and I’m liking the new look so far. The expanded post section gives me room to post larger photos and embedded videos, and having a single sidebar makes it possible for things there to be less squashed, too. (Of course, I’m viewing it on my desktop Mac and have no idea what you people on laptops, PCs, and handhelds are seeing. If it doesn’t look spectacular, I suggest you go out and purchase a large Mac at your earliest possible convenience.)
There’s been a bit of reorganization as well, and I’m going to continue to try and find ways to make things prettier and more easily navigable. Suggestions are welcome, especially in the Spanking Stories links – where I’m unsure how to properly separate the stories (or are they already properly separated?). I’m also thinking of tackling a massive overhaul of the individual post tags and ‘Favorite Subjects’ section.
If you’re aware of a safe and skilled professional disciplinarian, in any location, not listed in the right-hand sidebar, please let me know and I’ll make the addition. Likewise, if you’re aware of any discrepancies as to active pro spankers.
The same goes for spanking groups, large and small. If you’re a member, or know of a good one, send me a link to the group and I’ll add them in the sidebar listings.
Finally, blogs. I know that there are nearly a go-zillion blogs about spanking, CP, DD, HoH, TTWD (sheesh with the differentiations, by the way), and I also know that folks like Bonnie do a pretty excellent job of cataloging nearly each and every one of ’em. But if there’s something noteworthy missing from the sidebar blogroll – whether it’s your blog or one you recommend – send me the link (or put it in the comment box below) and I’ll add it.
Still unsure about the free video embeds to the right – if they don’t reappear soon I’ll re-upload them to spankingtube and get new embed codes for them.
I’m also hoping that the redesign will fix the problem that a few of you have had with text formatting in RSS/email delivery subscriptions. Anyone previously experiencing this problem can email me with the fix/no-fix verdict.
– Dana
Readers,
Recently, some of the free videos I’ve shared – usually viewable on the left-hand sidebar as well as the linked gallery page – have been acting wonky. Not loading, sending clicks to some weird error page, and generally being screwy.
I have absolutely no idea why this is happening. It seems as though some of my videos are missing from spankingtube.com (where the free videos are uploaded/hosted/linked) and I’ve also been unable to upload anything new to the site of late.
Maybe there’s some sort of glitch going on over at ST, and I’m hoping that it’ll clear itself up in short order. Until then, my apologies for the missing videos – but there are still a couple dozen left (hopefully) to enjoy.
– Dana
Readers,
Like many of you, I am a big fan of Erica’s. Her blog posts are always topical, funny, and full of personal insights into this woman who we all adore so much.
Unlike most, however, I’ve had the opportunity to work with Ms. Scott on a number of occasions and can tell you, unequivocally, that she is one helluva spanko.
But while many videos of Erica and her titanium bottom exist, I’m most excited to see the ones she’s recently posted to spankingtube. These are snippets of real spanking scenes between Erica and her top, and they’re priceless.
Here’s ‘How Well Do You Know Your Top’, with Erica’s famous ‘tude firmly in place as she tries to answer trivia questions about her spanker:
Here’s another, titled ‘Tears II’, that’s particularly emotional:
Thanks to Erica for always sharing so much of herself, and for giving so many of us so much joy (and lip. You rock, lady.).
– Dana
Miss Pandora Blake’s been wonderfully kind and written a glowing review of the new DanaKaneSpanks.com site, and while I’m not quite up to the production standards of DreamsofSpanking.com, I’m terribly complimented that a fellow spanking enthusiast – and just as importantly, another woman running an adult fetish video production company – is having a positive initial reaction to the site.
I’m also extremely pleased to say that signups have been robust, with a large percentage of subscribers being of the female gender (yes, I recognize you, ladies…my gratitude), and I am receiving lots of positive feedback thus far. While the site isn’t at all fancy, the search function is dandy and can help you get to what you’re looking for without scrolling through the 140+ F/M, F/F, and POV videos currently available, and I’ll soon be adding Member’s Only videos exclusive to the site. My greatest big thanks to those of you who’ve subscribed, and I’m always looking forward to your comments, suggestions, etc.
We’re still experiencing some DVD Store difficulties, the site designer and I – as in, he is not yet finished with it and I am having difficulties understanding why. Hopefully it’ll be operational soon, and I’ll email those of you who’ve requested DVDs soon as they’re available.
Here’s a little preview video I uploaded to SpankingTube to announce the member site, featuring some of my favorite scenes:
Readers,
In a nutshell, ‘an exchange of money for goods and/or services’ is the definition of trade.
Trade is a term nearly interchangeable with the word business.
Businesses create jobs, wherein people are employed and (hopefully) paid a reasonable salary. Those people use their salaries to pay other people for other goods and/or services, and the circle of trade is unbroken.
Consumers (those people we talked about who are, presumably, employed and earning a reasonable salary) participate in different types of trade depending on many factors, including age, gender, social status, geography, and most certainly, need.
Need, or the perception of it, is what makes us go to the department store and pay (again, presumably) hard-earned money for items we do not already possess. Have a big wedding coming up and don’t have a blender capable of making cake for 48? Buy one. Need more Band-aid brand bandages or Kleenex brand tissues? Hell, now you can even have them delivered right to your door – by a person who’s being paid to wear that snappy brown outfit, I might add. There are dozens of workers instrumental in getting your tissues to your door, from the person who pours the stuff that will become tissue paper into the vat to the one who designs those hideous countertop boxes, right down to the salesperson who calls your local market every week to see how many tissues they’ll be needing delivered.
Then there’s want. Want is often misinterpreted as need, because want can become big and strong and overpowering and morph itself into need when pressed. For instance, you don’t really need that new sofa – your current sofa is in fine condition, really, you’ve just grown to despise it over the years because it just sits there being all Southwestern-y, long after Southwestern is out – but you’re eyeballing a comfy-looking oversize in tan leather all the same. Sure, it’ll cost a bit of money, but just look at it! It beckons you, and you can practically feel how much more aligned your spine will be while watching reruns of LA Law. Besides, what has that old sofa done for you lately, huh? Yep. You’re right. You WANT this, and you want it now.
I’m sure you all get my upcoming point already, don’t you? I’m not one of the first several hundred to have written on this subject, and won’t be one of the last several hundred, either. It’s something that’s there, whether we talk about it or not. So let’s talk about it.
Where to begin, really? First, I’ll clarify that, for the purposes of this conversation, I’m using the term People Who Get Paid to Do Sex Work as folks of any sex or gender who earn compensation as pros, models, performers, production crew, and/or other ancillary positions related to the adult entertainment industry. This, for most of the world, includes spanking and BDSM. (If you find yourself in said employ and have a problem with the term Sex Worker, I don’t know what to say. Honestly.)
We’ve all heard/read them, and maybe some of you have even said: “I would never pay for it.” (liar), “They’re no better than prostitutes.” (your point?), “F*ck that b*tch. She doesn’t deserve to get paid to do what I do for free.” (a personal favorite), and the always sensible “He/she should get a real job.”
Let’s address these concerns one at a time, shall we?
1. “I would never pay for it.”
You paid Tom Cruise $20 million dollars to make the fourth installment of whatever-it-was-movie. Yes, you did.
You also paid that kid at Taco Bell to make your lunch yesterday (which is why you feel like crap today).
You’re also paying some stranger in a suit and Wall Street high-rise to manage the loan on the house you’re sitting in right now, and likely for the computer you’re using, too.
All of those things suck.
But paying for pleasure is wrong? Wait a minute…what about massages? Yoga classes? Visits to your friendly local psychopharmacologist? All those things are about health, happiness, and wellness and we pay for those things every day.
Where’s the disconnect? You tell me.
2. “They’re no better than prostitutes.”
See #1. Seriously. And, in your spare time, think about doing a bit of evolving.
3. “F*ck that b*tch. She doesn’t deserve to get paid to do what I do for free.”
This is one especially for performers, as each and every girl I know has, at one time or another, been given grief (usually remotely, as grief-givers are naturally passive-aggressive) about their professions. We are not bitches, nor are we heartless vixens out to pilfer the wallets of every godfearing man and woman on the planet.
Just like the guy who cooked my delivery dinner deserved to get paid for doing something that I could have easily, cheaply, and – I compliment myself here – more tastily prepared, Sex Workers deserve to get paid to do what they do. Whether you do it or not. Even if you’re better at it.
Why? Because there is massive, massive demand. Lots of folks want to participate in things which they may not necessarily be willing to share with the world. Pros and performers get paid specifically for that reason – because they’re doing it. You’re not.
While we’re here, I’ll also touch on the fact that none of us would ever be so bold as to contact a plumber and suggest that he do some work for us pro bono. We all know that the plumber would just laugh and laugh and laugh..
4. “He/she should get a real job.”
When you’ve spent the money, invested the time, and worked to perfect the craft, that IS a real job.
Now that I’ve put much more than my usual two cents in, I’d like to know your thoughts. Please share your comments in the box below, and we’ll discuss this controversial subject a bit more.
Readers,
As you know, I regularly participate in the proceedings at Spanking Court, and am also a member of the staff at Sternwood Academy. You cannot possibly imagine the tedium of having to spank misbehaving girls, on their extremely bare bottoms, while they writhe and cry out in protest. Of all the careers I could’ve had, skills I could’ve mastered, I chose to become a professional spanker. Sigh…the heartbreak of it all. You must really pity me right now.
Recently, several of the inmates and attendees have been behaving improperly (go figure), and I’ve been enlisted yet again to help bring them to their senses. I will gladly welcome the day when all these reprobates learn their proper lessons and I never have to see a lovely little red bottom spread across a spanking bench or school desk again.
(All these encounters are now viewable in one place : MegaSpankings.com. My friends at A.S.S. have combined five spanking sites into one, and all the fun stuff we get up to is available there.)
A few examples of the hardships of my job:
Readers,
It’s been over two years since I was actually, truly sick.
In March 2011, I visited New York City for the first time and picked up a horrible cold/flu/ick from a lovely little Domme who thought she’d shake hands first and announce her current awful cold later. It took about 72 hours to kick in, as these things do, so I was feeling pretty terrible right about the time I left the City.
I was sick for two full weeks, and blamed the fact that I’d never before experienced NYC germs. Like the people there, I believe that the germs have a zeal and zest for life and survival unlike many.
Flash forward two years plus change, in which time I have been extraordinarily healthy in the seasonal-illness department:
Last week I visited family in Texas – a trip I hadn’t made in a year – and naturally went through several airports in order to do so. While the trip wasn’t the awe-inspiring thing of vacation dreams, it was nice to go back where I came from and hug a few people. When I arrived home, I had two days in Las Vegas before heading back out for Dallas, St.Louis, and Kansas City.
I felt fine until two days ago, and nearly at the halfway point in my flight from Nevada to Texas when, all of a sudden, every part of my head began malfunctioning at the EXACT same moment. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, my nose began to stop up and run at the same time (which has always perplexed me), and the sneezing began with much abandon.
This caused no small problem because I was, as always, sitting in a window seat, so my co-aislers had to get up three times over the course of an hour so I could make my way to the minimal privacy of the airplane restroom where much nose-blowing did take place. This, in addition to my having my scarf fully covering the bottom half of my face (don’t want to make others sick, doncha know) likely caused more than a little suspicion. (Sorry Mr. Air Marshall, I wasn’t doing anything suspect – I do the suspect stuff in hotels.)
An otc cold remedy bought on my layover helped a bit, and I was able to make it to the hotel where I enjoyed a lovely dinner with The VBB and his Wonderful Wife, who’d driven quite some distance to meet me there. Naturally, I found the energy to carry on with The VBB’s cane breaking marathon/punishment, but spent nearly as much time spraying him with alcohol than I did breaking canes, just in case one of my likely-germs came in contact with his bum. We passed a fun few hours that evening, but by bedtime I could tell that I was in trouble. So I made the unhappy call home to announce my full-on illness and request an immediate change of flight plans. I was going home. Asap.
It’s not been often that I have had to cancel travel plans, and it’s a blow to my enormous empathy organ to have to postpone playtimes with my friends around the country. Many don’t have the opportunity to play often, and only the chance of infecting them with some icky little South Texas germ has kept me away. (To those of you I’ve missed, my sincerest sniffly apologies. I’ll be back just as soon as I can.)
Meanwhile, I’m going to disinfect this keyboard and get back into bed.
– Dana
** To celebrate the launch of HERE member site, this month’s prize winner will receive a free full-access membership to the site! Over 130 F/M, F/F, and POV spanking scenes – and counting! – should keep our winning author busy for quite some time. (For those who are already subscribers, you’ll have the opportunity to choose an alternate prize.)**
There are also a few guidelines which MUST be followed in order for your story entry to be considered/published.
Please read carefully:
Contest ends May 31, 2013
Send all entries to me at: DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com (You may either attach your story as a text file, or paste it directly into your email’s text box.)
If you have any questions about content, guidelines, etc, please feel free to email.
Good luck!
– Dana
Readers,
A final, and somewhat tardy, entry to the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest :
Missy and Angel co-wrote this entry, as non-contestants (Good Girls), and it’s a great read…even though they turned in their School themed story very late – which technically should earn them a trip to the principal’s office, right?
Enjoy.
– Dana
As I sat there in the window watching the rain pour down from a freak thunderstorm, I was reminded of home. My sister Susie and I had been living in Las Vegas now for nearly one month. We were now under constant supervision by Ms. Kane, the Disciplinarian that owned and operated the “Reformatory” where we were to live for one year. Two months ago, Susie and I had pulled off a brilliant stunt…or so we thought. We videotaped Ms. Kane during a private spanking session and posted it on Spankingtube. As it turned out, getting one over on Ms. Kane is a rare occurrence, one that we were not able to do…this time.
Fall quarter was fast approaching at UNLV, and as a requirement by Ms. Kane, we were to be full time students. I was not ready for school to start, I wanted just a little more time to be able to do my own thing and not be bogged down with all the studying and work load that is required by a freshman at a major university. This morning my sister and I were supposed to be going to sign up for classes, but I had different plans.
“Sarah, why are you sitting there in your pajamas still? We need to get going” My sister was digging through the closet I guess trying to find the perfect thing to wear. “I am not going. I don’t want to start school yet, I am going to wait till January classes start, and go then” She looked puzzled at me “And just how do you think that is going to work out for you? Ms. Kane will never let that fly. What is your big plan for that?” She snickered. “I am not going to tell her right now, it’s none of her business anyway. Besides, as long as I am at the dinner table every night and have my chores done, she won’t even know. It will be fine. I’m going back to bed, try and be quiet please”
Susie headed down the stairs and was about to walk out the front door when Ms. Kane suddenly out of the blue spoke up “Goodbye girls, good luck today, and I want details later as to what your classes will be” Susie turned and looked at Ms. Kane “Ok, I’ll let you know, goodbye” She turned again and tried to hurry out the door to avoid the obvious fact that she was alone. A fact Ms. Kane of course had noticed “Where is Susie…or Sarah…or which one are you??” She still couldn’t tell us apart. We were identical twins right down to the mole we each had on our upper arm, the only exception was a little birthmark well hidden under my long hair on the back of my neck, a secret no one knew besides us and our parents.
It was obvious that Susie wasn’t happy about the situation but as a good sister she covered up “Sarah is umm…She wasn’t feeling well this morning, so she said she would take care of her classes later” Which wasn’t a lie and something Susie could tell without feeling guilt. “I gotta go though or I won’t catch the bus in time….ok?” She looked at Ms. Kane with a lot of hope in her eyes. Ms. Kane returned that look with a raised eyebrow and told her goodbye and wished a good day. Susie ran off as fast she could and had she turned around she would have met the eyes of Ms. Kane still standing there observing. Ms. Kane didn’t go upstairs to check on Sarah instead she just went to her office. Susie of course again as the good sister wanted to give a heads up by calling but never got to it because Lyndsy with all her talking at the bus stop made her forget about it all.
I woke up and looked at the clock. 2:08! How did I sleep so long? Good thing I am not starting school any time soon, clearly I need more sleep in my life. I got up and went to the window to see if Ms. Kane was home. Her car was not in the driveway. That’s good, at least I don’t have to explain anything just yet. I went to take my shower and got myself ready. Who knows, maybe she won’t even know I didn’t go anywhere today. This is going to be so easy…
I went downstairs to find something to eat. I had missed breakfast and lunch so I was starving. I checked one more time to see that her car was not there and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I found everything I needed to make a turkey sandwich. I quickly made my sandwich and cleaned up my mess and was about to head upstairs when I turned the corner and just about ran smack into Ms. Kane. “Damn, you scared the shit out of me!”, I said before I could stop myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse at you, I just didn’t think you were home”. I tried to sneak past, but without success. “First of all, you know better than to use that kind of language in my home, regardless if you thought I was home or not” Ms. Kane had this special voice she used when she was annoyed a voice she was using right now “So instead of this just being an informal meeting in the hallway, let’s take it to my office, shall we?” “No Ma’am, please, that is not necessary, It slipped out totally on accident and besides, I have a pile of paperwork to fill out for school, can’t we just keep it in the hallway this time?” I was hopeful. To this, she raised an eyebrow and pointed to her office, not before taking my sandwich and reminding me that food is meant to be eaten in the kitchen only.
Now I was starving, sitting in her office waiting for her to come lecturing me on bad language and probably getting a spanking for it too. Ms. Kane walked in and as always, went around her desk to sit and stare at me with those crystal blue eyes. The blue color seemed to get more vibrant and even more captivating whenever Ms. Kane had someone in her sights. It was so hard to look at her when I felt guilty about something. After about a minute she spoke. “Sarah, I see we need to go over the rules again. Tell me, what is the rule about cursing?” I hated it when she made me answer questions like this, but I knew better by now to just answer her. “There is to be no cursing or using bad language at all what so ever”, I recited. “And did you follow that rule today?” Oh man, this was horrible, she was going to make me suffer. “No Ma’am, I did not follow that rule today. I broke that rule when I cursed at you in the hallway” I rolled my eyes as I said this. Not on purpose, but just out of habit. When my mom or dad asked me a stupid question, they got a stupid answer and a roll of the eyes. At least I gave her the answer she wanted. My timing could have been better though. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me young lady, now you are guaranteed the spanking I was only thinking about giving you” with that, she continued to torture me through all the rules of the house before asking me about my day signing up for classes. “Everything went fine”, I lied. To further elaborate and convince her I went into more detail. “I didn’t get all the classes I wanted, but I didn’t get stuck with anything too horrible”. Ms. Kane had a look on her face that I hadn’t seen before. I wasn’t sure what it meant. “well, you are a smart girl and I am sure you will do great with all of your classes, no matter what they are. “ She stood up, came to the sofa and told me to stand up and remove my pants and panties as she took my place of the sofa. “Please can we just skip the spanking, It really was just an accident. I hardly think it’s fair to be punished for something I didn’t mean to do. You scared me, what was I supposed to do? Be polite?” I argued with her, not moving to take down my pants. She just stared at me again, those eyes getting even brighter blue…Damn, how did she do that? “I will not tell you again, get those pants down.” I knew I wasn’t getting out of it so I started to unbutton my jeans while whining at her that it wasn’t fair. I guess I wasn’t moving fast enough or maybe it was the whining, but she grabbed a hold of my pants and had them off of me in about 2 seconds, then my panties and I went over her lap. She laid 10 good swats to my fanny and then stopped. “Now, are you done whining at me or do you need another 10 swats before we actually start?” “What!!! Actually start? We should be almost finished after that!” there I go with my impulsive mouth again. She started spanking me again but didn’t stop at 10. “ok. Ok, I’m sorry, I am done whining now.” After a few more slaps with her bare hand she stopped and said, “good, now tell me why you are being punished” fortunately for me and my backside, she didn’t see me roll my eyes this time as I explained why I was being punished. She spanked me for what seemed like an hour but was really only like 5 minutes. When she was done she told me to go stand in the corner and not to move until she told me to. By now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to have my pants back until I was done in the corner, so I didn’t even bother to try and put them on. There I stood facing the corner, feeling pretty stupid. Ms. Kane’s phone rang. She answered it and I heard her say, “Thank you, I’ll be there to pick it up shortly. Were you able to rotate my tires as well?, ok thank you” That’s why her car wasn’t here but she was. It was in the shop. About 5 minutes later, she got up from her desk, reminded me not to move a muscle and she left the office, leaving me there to stand naked from the waist down in the corner. “This is horrible” I whispered to the wall “Oh well at least I was able to get away with not signing up for classes though”
Man, how long is she going to leave me here? It had to be like 5:00 already! Susie should be home by now too and I needed to talk to her before she had a chance to say something to Ms. Kane about me not going today. I was getting nervous now. I heard Ms. Kane’s car pull up. Did she really leave me in the corner and leave to get her car??? Now I was getting upset. I could hear the sounds of dinner being made in the kitchen down the hall, so I turned around and grabbed my pants when at the same time I heard someone coming down the hall. I jumped back to my corner like I hadn’t even thought of moving. The door opened and Ms. Kane spoke calmly “Have a seat Susie, I just wanted to see how your day went” I just about past out and prayed that Susie wouldn’t say anything. It would definitely make Susie nervous to see me standing there in the corner, and would leave her clueless how to cover since she wouldn’t know why I was standing there. Susie went for the usual tactic, being evasive when answering questions. “My day was great, Ms. Kane, how was your day?” Ms. Kane ignored the question and went on “Were you able to get the classes you hoped for?” “yes, for the most part” Susie answered sounding rather relaxed “It sounds like you and Sarah had the same luck. She said she wasn’t able to get all of the classes she wanted, but most of them as well” Yes what a relieve, now Susie would know how to keep the cover. “Is something wrong Susie, you look a bit pale?” Pale? I didn’t like the sound of that, if I just could get a look at Susie. “No everything is fine just a bit tired, can I go get ready for dinner now?” silence…until Ms. Kane broke it “Sure, go ahead. Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes” a few seconds after the door opened and closed again leaving me alone in the corner, at least that’s what I thought. “Sarah, you are to sit quietly during dinner, you are not to talk to anyone. When dinner is done, you will do the clean up. When you are done cleaning up, you are to report back to my office where you will spend one hour in the corner and then you will be going to bed. Do I make myself clear?” Really?? So much trouble for 2 so simple curse words?? “Yes” was the only thing that came across my lips.
Dinner started with an announcement from Ms. Kane telling everyone that I was not to be talked to during dinner or for the rest of the night for that matter. Lyndsy and Amy would be trouble. They had that look in their eyes. We were friends, so it wasn’t a bad look, just a mischievous look. One that dared me to play their game. In trouble or not, I just couldn’t help myself. The looks and the whispers turned into kicking under the table and then laughing. Not a good idea when sitting across from Ms. Kane while you are in trouble. She was about to shut me up though with her next comment. Looking right at me she said to my sister, “Susie, this morning when I saw you heading out the door, you said Sarah was ill and staying in bed today. So how is it that Sarah could have signed up for classes from bed?” Oh damn! I went from laughing with Lyndsy and Amy to straight face with no color left in it. My eyes said it all…I was busted and I was scared. Susie tried to save me, “She ended up coming anyway, just a little later is all. She felt better and didn’t want to miss out on getting the right classes.” My sister was good, but Ms. Kane was better. “How is it then that I heard her shower going at 2:30 this afternoon and then literally ran into her in the hall at 3:30? Don’t try and cover for her anymore, you are both in enough trouble for lying to me. I believe that is a house rule, isn’t it?” she said looking at me. “Do I need to go over the rules with you again as well Susie?” “No Ma’am,” Susie almost whispered. “I will ask you one more time, and I expect the truth. Did your sister sign up for classes today?” Ms. Kane still spoke with a calm voice. I tried to kick my sister under the table but I must have missed because Ms. Kane jumped out of her seat. She was furious and demanded to know who had just kicked her. Oh sh**, I was really screwed now. “I’m sorry Ms. Kane….I didn’t mean to kick you” She looked at me as her eyes went bluer and bluer again for the third time today. “Go put yourself back in the corner in my office right now and wait for me, and young lady, you will be dressed the same as you were earlier, now go!” She didn’t have to tell me twice, I was so scared now, I wasn’t going to argue anything with her.
There I was in the corner, without my pants or panties like some little kid waiting for her punishment. I was nervous now. Even though she hadn’t raised her voice (except when she got kicked) I knew she was very upset. What would happen now, I wondered. “How do I get myself out of this mess?” “By telling the truth to start” I was startled to hear her voice. Not only did I not know she was in the room, but did I really say that out loud? “Turn around” I did. “Now, you are going to tell me the truth, if you even dare tell me anything other than the truth, your consequences will be far worse than anything you would ever want to endure. Now, speak.”
I didn’t know what to say or how to react. I had never been confronted on a lie before. My parents put more effort into being the cool parent than they did being the responsible parent. My words were just a jumbled mess, “I ….well….I didn’t ….um….um….” Ms. Kane was having none of that and over her knee I went for a solid 2 minute bare hand, bare butt spanking. “Ouch, ouch…ok, I will tell you Ma’am” I pleaded. The spanking stopped but I wasn’t let up from her lap just yet. “Now, are you ready to talk in full sentences without stuttering or mumbling?” Ms. Kane asked. “Yes, Ma’am”, I sobbed. She stood me up. As I stood in front of her, naked from the waist down, I told her what happened that day. “I didn’t go to sign up for classes today”, I said very softly with my head down. “ I want you to look at me and keep your voice up, now why did you not go sign up for classes today?” Ms. Kane never once removed her eyes from me. “Well, I have decided not to start classes just yet. I am going to wait until January. It’s only a few months later and I have plenty of credits already so it won’t set me back much. I talked to my dad about it already and he said it would be ok, and….” She cut me off. “First of all, I am not all that interested in whether or not your dad gave you permission to skip an entire semester. Did I give you permission?” “No, but….” She cut me off again. “Secondly, I am aware of how many credits you have. You have exactly the amount of credits you should have. Now, since obviously I had left you with the impression you had a choice in this matter, let me be perfectly clear with my next statement. You WILL go tomorrow and sign up for classes. You WILL take full time courses. You WILL go every day. You WILL stay on top of your homework. And furthermore, you WILL be grounded to the house except to go to school, and you WILL have an early bedtime for one month. Is there anything you don’t understand about what I just told you?” Oh man, she was mad. “Ok” was all I could manage to say. She just stared at me. I guess that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “Yes, Ma’am. I understand. I’ll do everything you just said.” “Yes you will. To be sure you know just how serious I am, go to the closet and get the belt and then position yourself over my desk and grab a hold of the other side“ I couldn’t move, until she raised those damn eyebrows at me and I did what she said. After about 20 whacks with her belt, I was a complete mess. She sent me to bed with a reminder to let her know what classes I had signed up for the next day.
The next morning, it had crossed my mind only for a second that I didn’t want to go sign up for classes. My burning backside was a quick reminder of the alternative. I got up and got ready. I went downstairs to the kitchen to get a quick breakfast and not that surprisingly Ms. Kane was there as well. “Good morning….Susie? Sarah?” “Good morning Ms. Kane. I’m Sarah, Susie will be down in a bit” “How did your parents tell you two apart?” “They still sometimes can’t” I couldn’t help to let out a little sarcastic chuckle. I wasn’t about to tell her about that birthmark on the back of my neck. Being Identical twins had too many advantages to be giving up secrets about how to tell us apart.
At UNLV I went straight to the Admissions office, smiled politely at the lady behind the desk and asked for the papers. What I didn’t expect was to see her looking at me with this almost worried kind of expression. “Are you serious?” I must have looked desperate at the lady when she told me that yesterday was the deadline for scheduling classes. “I am afraid so, most of those classes have been filled for months, yesterday was the last day to sign up.” Oh no, what was I supposed to do? If Ms. Kane found out that I couldn’t sign up, I had no idea what would happen. I called Susie for help. “It will be ok Sarah, just calm down. We will figure something out. We always do. Meet me at that little coffee shop on the corner in half an hour and we will work it out.”
After two hours and way too much coffee, I had a class schedule. Not a real one, but it would keep my butt safe for the time being. “Thanks Sis, now I just have to fake for a few months. So much for sleeping in. I still have to get up and leave the house like I am going to school every day. What am I going to do all day?” “I don’t know, but whatever it is at least you will be able to do it sitting down. Come on, let’s go see if it will past the Kane test” I was so nervous. Rarely did anyone in the house get anything past Ms. Kane and here I was thinking not only that she would believe my class schedule was real, but also that for the next 3 months I was attending school full time. Susie noticed my unease and said, “If you walk into the house looking like that, you won’t stand a chance against her. “ I couldn’t help it, the closer we got to the house, the whiter my face got. I was normally pretty good about keeping a straight face if I had to tell a little lie to someone, but damn! I felt like I was going to throw up knowing I would soon be looking into those blue eyes and lying right to her face. Susie seemed a little annoyed that I couldn’t keep it together, but she hadn’t been whipped with that belt yet either. “Here Sarah, trade me schedules. When we get there just go upstairs. If anyone asks, just say you aren’t feeling well. One look at you and nobody will question it. Ill pretend to be you and talk to Ms. Kane about your…um……my schedule.”
When we got to the house and went inside it was pretty quiet. We started to head upstairs when we heard her voice. “Hi Girls, how did everything go today?” Whatever blood was left in my face drained out at that moment and I went ghost white again. “Are you ok Dear? What’s the matter? You look like you might pass out.” “Oh, I’m ok. Just not feeling well. I am going to go lie down.” And just for emphasis I said to Susie, “Hey Sarah, do you think you could bring me a glass of cold water please?” “Sure” she turned to go to the kitchen leaving me to make my escape upstairs. Ms. Kane asked me, who now was Susie, to come to her office the second after she had brought Susie or me the water, she returned to her office without further comments. I ran upstairs and straight to the bathroom and I threw up. All that coffee coupled with nerves, and maybe a touch of guilt was too much for my poor stomach. I went to lie down in Susie’s bed. After bringing me a glass of water, Susie set off to see Ms. Kane as Sarah. She was gone for about 10 minutes when there was a knock on the door. “Come in”, I said. It was Lori. “Hey Susie, what’s up? not feeling well?” My sister and Lori had become good friends. I hadn’t really spent too much time getting to know her, so we were still strangers in a way. But she thought I was Susie at that moment. “Yeah, too much coffee and not enough food I think, but I’ll be ok. What’s up with you?” I honestly didn’t care for the answer but had to keep the façade so tried hard to focus on Lori “Well remember last week when I told you about that boy Adam? Well, I saw him again today and hey you were right!” She laughed. I tried to play it off like I knew what she was talking about. “oh yeah?” I said, hoping she would throw out some more information. “Yes, I couldn’t believe it, just like you said it would happen and it happened! He came walking in holding hands with another dude.” She laughed again. I tried to laugh with her, but it’s not easy to fake laugh when you have no idea what you are supposed to be laughing at. “Anyway, I have some stuff to do for work, I just wanted to tell you that. Hope you feel better” and with that she left. A few minutes later Susie came in our room. “No problems. She just reminded me that I…er you, are grounded.” Before I could tell her about Lori’s visit, Lori was knocking on the door again. “Come in,” we both said. She started talking to me again about this boy that I knew nothing about. She went on and on and on. Does she ever stop talking? I must have looked like I couldn’t care less. Susie stopped her ramblings and told her she was talking to Sarah not Susie and explained why I was in her bed. “Really? wow you guys are good. Did Ms. Kane really think you were Sarah?” “Well yeah, just like you thought you were talking to Susie.” “You guys are pretty brave doing that with Ms. Kane on the staff there.” Now it was Susie’s face that lost all of its color. “What are you talking about Lori?” “You didn’t know that she teaches a course on “Nonverbal Communication”? it is only one course and its usually during the Spring quarter.” Susie and I just looked at each other both of us now questioning what we had done. We were committed to our lie now. We just had to hope she wouldn’t find out and use some of that “nonverbal communication” on our backsides.
The next few weeks went by very quickly. Tomorrow was my first class…well, my first fake class anyway. I got up and showered early. I had already decided to spend the day with my laptop at the park close to campus. Susie and I decided that we would meet here every day after her last class. This is when she would give me a few of her books to carry home with me and also when she would all too happily give me some of her homework to do to keep up the facade. This worked out perfectly for several weeks. Nothing major really happened. We would smart mouth Ms. Kane, push our limits, and test the waters as much as we could. Sometimes getting away with our brattiness, most often not. Ms. Kane liked to spank us just for fun. We figured if she was going to give us “maintenance” spankings every Sunday anyway, we might as well earn them, and earn them we did. We saw all the different shades of those blue eyes as often as possible. Blue was always our favorite color.
Winter break was now upon us. Mom and Dad were planning the usual trip to Whistler to celebrate Christmas. Susie and I had decided not to go this year, but could not escape a visit from them. They would be staying one night in Las Vegas. The plan was for all four of us to stay in a hotel on the strip. Susie and I had big plans for that night. We would finally get a night to really let loose and not worry about getting in trouble with Ms. Kane. After all, she wouldn’t try and pull that authority stuff on our parents. Susie and I were in our room packing for our evening. Mom and Dad would be here to pick us up in just a few hours. When someone knocked on our door we thought it was Lori as usual but were both surprised to see Ms. Kane standing there instead. “Girls, would you mind coming to my office please? I would like to discuss something with you.” “Sure Ms. Kane, we will be right there”, Susie told her. We looked at each other, both wondering what this would be about. Ten minutes later we learned that Ms. Kane had absolutely no problem pulling that authority business on our parents. “Girls, I know you are planning on having an evening out tonight, but I have decided that it would be best for you both to stay home. Neither of you have been able to show me lately that you can control temptation. The Vegas Strip is certainly not a place for 2 impulsive girls to be trusted or expected to behave. I have invited your parents to stay here tonight so you can spend some quality time together as a family” “What?!?,” I could not hide my annoyance at that decision. “You can’t do that. Who are you to decide that for us? No way!” Uh Oh….that wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but I was mad. We planned on partying in the city tonight, and now I would likely be getting a spanking instead of the drinks and slot machines I had planned on. “Excuse me young lady! Don’t you dare talk to me like that. Exactly what I have stated is exactly what will be happening. Your parents have agreed and that is final”
“Whatever” was the only thing I could think of replying but didn’t, because Susie was faster than I and told Ms. Kane that we looked forward to spend time with our parents. Ms. Kane wasn’t looking at Susie but only at me “Anything you would like to add Miss Sarah?” I didn’t look at her only shook my head “No Ma’am!”
When our parents finally arrived I think both Susie and I wanted to go hide somewhere, and it didn’t exactly help that both Lyndsy and Amy were playing a comedy behind our parents back, repeating our mothers dramatic entrance sobbing the moment she saw us. As usual Mom would hug us, look at us, then hug again and say the same thing as always “I can’t believe that my two little babies have grown so big, I remember the day I brought you two home from the hospital….” Oh man! I really wanted that drink bad. I wondered if Lyndsy still had that emergency stash of Jack in her bathroom closet…”Hey Lyndsy, do you have any hairspray I can borrow?” I asked her sarcastically.
Ms. Kane, however seemed quite interested in our parents and started to show them around. “Girls…why don’t you two take your parents luggage to their room please. I will make sure that your parents feel right at home here” We grabbed their bags and just as we were about to enter the room that was meant for our parents Ms. Kane said “Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, it must be difficult to tell your girls apart….” And then nothing. We couldn’t hear anything further. I looked at Susie and she looked at me. “Well it doesn’t have to mean anything right?? I mean she has wondered about how our parents could tell the difference…” Susie tried to ease the nervousness that slowly but certainly started to build up inside.
We spent that evening with our parents. Ms. Kane was a great hostess. She even cooked an awesome meal for all of us. She didn’t know it, but she even shared her wine with us. The next morning it was time for our parents to leave. They left pretty much the same way they entered, sobbing and all “Oh my little babies”.
Christmas vacation came and went too quickly. It was time to get back to lying and sneaking my way through a few more weeks of classes. Little did I know, the University called on Ms. Kane to assist in a class that I was supposed to be in. (According to the fake schedule I provided Ms. Kane) Obviously, I wouldn’t be there. One night at dinner is when I found out. “Sarah, you weren’t in class today. Why is that?” asked Ms. Kane. “Uh…I was in class today….why do you ask?” I was suddenly very nervous. She had me in her sights, and wasn’t about to let go. “Well, I have been asked to assist your professor in one of your classes. Did you know that I am on staff at UNLV?” “No, I didn’t know that…uh…which class?” how will I get out of this mess? I wondered. “It is your Communications class. Why were you not there today?” “Oh, I was running behind, and didn’t want to walk in late, so I just went to the park and did some studying.” The blue in her eyes was getting more intense now. “So, you will be on time tomorrow then, right?” “Yes, of course.” I said while I tried to remember what class that was. I am glad Susie saved a copy in her computer. Now, I just had to figure out how I would make this work. I knew Susie took this class at a different time, so it would only make sense to have her fill in for me. Sure, this would work out just fine…This really was too easy.
Susie was good at being me so I wasn’t worried. She showed up at the right time and participated like she should. The lesson was very intense and interesting, Ms. Kane liked to get the students to show how to use non-verbal communication, and at some point Susie and this other girl were asked to go up in front of the class and demonstrate “proper listening skills”. Ms. Kane was moving silently around the two of them, and the other professor who was new at the school was fine with letting Ms. Kane teach the lesson and stayed toward the back of the class to observe. Everything went smooth, no signs that Ms. Kane would ever discover the truth. When the bell rang Susie felt relaxed and a big smile was about to appear, just until that voice Susie knew so well suddenly said “Sarah could you please stay in class for a minute, I need to ask you something” Susie’s smile was gone and so was the color in her face. “Um yes professor” she managed to somehow get over her lips.
Susie sat quietly on her chair and watched how Ms. Kane slowly packed all her things. She wasn’t in any hurry and she seemed very relaxed. As soon as the last student had left the room, Ms. Kane looked straight at Susie. “Miss Sarah I would like you to do me a favor…” Susie fidgeted nervously in her chair. “Sure Professor Kane, how can I help you?” Ms. Kane gently let her finger slide over her desk, while she walked past it and towards Susie. “I know that you and Susie are very close, and to be honest I am a bit worried about Susie lately, and I think I need to talk to both of you right now!” Susie was stumped now. What did she mean by that, as if Susie had any problems. “Well I think Susie is attending some class now, so can’t we just talk about it at home?” Ms. Kane smiled slightly, a smile that didn’t exactly make Susie feel comfortable. “Do you want to call her or shall I?” her blue eyes were penetrating and it was as if she could read every thought and every feeling Susie experienced at that moment. “Its okay Ms. Kane I will call her” Susie picked up her cellphone and chose Sarah’s number. “Hi Sis! Umm Ms. Kane needs to talk with both of us. We are in classroom # 125 on the second floor, could you please hurry??” Meanwhile Ms. Kane had gone up to the desk again, sat on her chair and just watched Susie while she talked with Sarah.
As soon as Susie hung up the phone, Ms. Kane slowly opened the drawer. A second later Susie’s phone was vibrating.
Susie looked down on the display and saw the name of the last person she expected it to be… Ms. Kane… “You are allowed to answer that phone, who knows maybe its Susie?” ”Umm no its okay, it’s no one….” Ms. Kane raised her eye brows . ”Answer the phone please!” Susie sighed and pushed the green button that indicated that she accepted the call.
At that exact same time that she pushed that button, I entered the room. I looked at Susie and to be honest I had never seen her that pale before. “Hi Susie, nice that you could join us this fast! And Sarah, please don’t hang up on that person or should I say that nobody that just called you!” Susie’s right leg was twitching which I knew was a bad sign. Something was up. Ms. Kane got up from her chair and grabbed something from the drawer and moved directly towards me. She reached her hand to me and put a phone in my hand. “Susie, can you explain how it can be that when I call you, that its Sarah’s phone that is ringing?”
“Oh…I guess we might have switched phones this morning,that has happened before!” Ha! I bet she didn’t think of that explanation!
“How stupid do you think I am? Did you really believe that the two of you could keep this LIE going on forever? Did you really believe that I wouldn’t find a way to distinguish between you Sarah” With that she gently removed the hair that covered the birthmark that was the only thing I had and Susie didn’t. “And you Miss Susie?” I stood petrified in front of Ms. Kane. I could barely breathe. “You Miss Sarah weren’t even supposed to be in this class. So after checking with the admissions office, I found that you were not in any classes. So I am sure you could understand my surprise to see Susie here today. Susie did you skip a class in order to attend this one portraying to be Sarah?”
“No Ma’am I don’t have class at this time”
“I am very disappointed in both of you! Sarah I assume you did go back to get signed up for different classes right?” “Yes Ma’am I really did, but I was one day too late. I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of going back and not being able to show you anything!”
“Okay, so do you see me as some kind of person that isn’t capable of understanding that? Or unwilling to maybe help if I can?” I couldn’t do anything else other than just look confused at Ms. Kane. “What do you think would have happened if you came back and told me what happened when you tried to sign up for those classes??” Man did I feel stupid now “I don’t know” I handed the phone back to Ms. Kane who took it back “Is it possible that I could have helped you?” I was looking down at my feet “Maybe, I just didn’t want to disappoint you again….” Ms. Kane took a deep breath then turned around and walked towards her desk again. “Girls! Look at me. I am disappointed, but mostly because neither of you trusted that I might be able to both understand things and even help you. I will need some time to actually regain trust in the two of you. I care about you but trust is a vital thing! And both of you have violated that”
I would have given anything to make her stop talking. Her words were worse than any spanking could be. I looked at Susie and she looked just as troubled as I felt.
“I know that both of you must feel bad right now, because I know that you are two good girls, who got caught up in a lie. You will get a chance to regain trust, but first I want both of you up here pants and panties down facing the board” “But Ms. Kane, what about Professor Adams?, surely you cannot do this in front of her”. “Ah yes, thank you for reminding me. Ms. Adams, would you mind helping me here? It seems appropriate that you take one and I will take the other. Here is a paddle for you to use on Susie, and I will use this strap on Sarah. I believe 30 is a good number to start with. Ladies, do not move from your position at all. I certainly hope the both of you learn a very valuable lesson, do you know what lesson that is?” Susie and I stuttered an answered out, but didn’t make out any real words. “The lesson young ladies, is that you will never be able to get anything over on me. It will do you good to just accept this. I will always know, and you will always be held accountable as long as you are in my care. Now, Ms. Adams…shall we teach this lesson to these girls?” and with that, we got spanked right there in the classroom, and again when we got home, and again on Sunday, and on top of that we were grounded, and until the next semester started, I would be doing chores all day. I signed up for classes as soon as I had the first opportunity. Lesson learned Ms. Kane, lesson learned.
Readers,
I feel a bit like a kid, reporting on all the things that happened during my first Boardwalk Badness Weekend, because no self-respecting adult should be allowed to have that much fun.
Plain and simple, the party was excellent.
As many of you know, large social gatherings usually make me a little squicky, and the lead-up to this one was no different. I felt a bit of ‘what have I gotten myself into’ in the days before – just the idea of so many people all together in one place seemed a little daunting, and I had the usual cases of not-knowing-what-to-wear-and-pack along with a bit of when-did-my-pores-get-so-big-??, and even a dash of ohholyshit.
I spent most of Thursday in transit, which was the usual cross-continental nightmare which one would expect. Delayed out of Las Vegas; delayed layover out of Chicago, where there had apparently been an absolute deluge of rain; and finally, after arriving in Philadelphia and meeting up with Angel and her genuinely amazing roommate (who was kind enough to pick me up at the airport and drive us all the way to the party), an hour-long ride followed by the most bizarre hotel check-in process in the history of ever ever. Ever.
Angel and I got a relatively good night’s sleep in anticipation for the weekend, and were up bright and early on Friday morning. Well, early…but not so bright:
I’m sure you’ll be properly pleased with this entry to the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. Poor Dan finds out that it’s never too late for a spanking, in :
Readers,
Here is yet another example of the excellent minds at work on March’s ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. Enjoy LOTS of hard F/F spanking in this one!
– Dana
One of our favorite contributors, Annika, has shared a beautifully-writen entry for the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. While she’s entered as a non-contestant, I’m sure you’ll agree that once again she’s written a winning tale.
– Dana
Professor Payne loved his ruler. He always made sure to place it on his desk so all of us could see it lying there staring at us. He explained to us from the beginning that he wouldn’t tolerate any kind of disturbances in his class and all who would disobey would get to feel his ruler. He so kindly demonstrated that it was an unbreakable piece of wood by slamming it onto his desk producing a rather disturbing sound waving through the classroom. I may have been the only one just sitting there looking rather relaxed at him, almost smiling. I wasn’t impressed by him and his name in itself just made this scenario funny. He seemed more like a dog just standing there barking, and he would probably get all excited if you threw him a ball or a bone. No! It was the professors that were quiet and who would suddenly penetrate every fiber in your body with a single stare. Those were the ones to be scared of! I grew up with a professor like that. I would address this one as Professor Hanson when I passed her in the hallways at school, but then simply call her mom when we were at home.
Luckily she wasn’t my professor, and, well, the rest of the professors, they were all capable non barking teachers. Only Professor Payne seemed to portray this strict military kind of teaching and each lesson with him left me sitting there wondering what would happen if his beloved ruler would magically disappear. Would he start crying? Would he lose his ability to talk? Would he have a major tantrum? I had to find out!
He always had his ruler in his desk all locked up, but to pick locks was a trick my brother taught me at a very young age and it was a skill I put on standby because we both had very sore bottoms for some time after our mother discovered us inside a storage room that was supposed to be locked.
Picking Payne’s lock was definitely no problem at all. I was very impressed by the way he had organized his drawer, and in the center of it all the ruler was placed. It meant a lot to him no doubt about that. I put it into my bag and left the classroom before the lesson would start. I wouldn’t be the first to get there obviously, but I was there in time to see his facial expression when he opened the drawer and it was gone. This time he didn’t look like that barking dog at all, but more like a baby looking for his soother. Everybody in the class felt this change in him but no one, well besides me, knew what was wrong. He closed the drawer and rested both hands on his desk almost as if he had to hold on to the desk so he wouldn’t fall down. He wasn’t looking at us, just looking down.
Mental note to self: Caused inability to speak.
My classmates started to whisper and you could sense the disturbance growing. Then he suddenly cleared his throat and said, “Im sorry. I have to leave…….you…..yes….” and he took off. We didn’t leave the classroom because we expected him to return. I didn’t tell anyone about what I had done, because it didn’t matter. It was simply a test to see how he would react when in this situation, and for me to take note of. He didn’t return, so when the class ended we all left the classroom. What I didn’t expect to meet further down the hallway was penetrating eyes looking at me. Eyes I knew so well and that I could only look into if I knew I was completely unguilty.
“Amy, can I have a word with you?” I was desperately looking into my bag and replied, “Um, Professor Hanson, I have to attend a different class in a minute or so, can it wait??” “No!” she took me by my arm and went towards the classroom we all just walked out of.
“Sit down Amy!” She pointed at one of the chairs and went up to Professor Payne’s desk. She opened the drawer closed it and looked back at me. “Amy, do you know what is missing from this drawer?”
I wasn’t looking at her at all I was looking in her direction but not at her. The door to the classroom opened and Professor Payne came inside. “Professor” my mom spoke up “Please lock the door”. My body froze. I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe. What was she up to?
“Professor Payne, you were telling me that you used to have a ruler inside this drawer?” He passed me on his way to the desk, “Yes ma’am”.
Mental note: MA’AM…??? I really have to get him a bone or ball.
She didn’t even look at him as she passed him on her way over to me. All her focus was on me, and I got smaller and smaller with every step she took towards me. She didn’t say anything, she just reached out her hand with her palm facing up. I was so far down on my chair that my head was the only part of my body still above desk level. I found the ruler in my bag and handed it to her. Her little frown didn’t exactly ease my anxiety at that moment, but she still didn’t say anything. She just turned and went back to Professor Payne.
“Professor have you ever used this on a student?” This conversation was interesting so I got back up on my chair and listened carefully. “Um, no Ma’am.”
Mental note: Im sooooo good. I knew he was a noisy dog with a bark but no bite!
“Well professor, she is all yours.”
What???
My mom moved away and sat down on one of the student chairs. Both my eyes and his eyes followed her and I think we were both stumped. He looked even more scared than I did. “Amy, don’t be disrespectful! Stand up and let Professor Payne deal with you!” I looked at her with big eyes and shook my head trying to tell her without words, “Mom, please, no.” She just raised her eyebrows a bit and I knew there was absolutely no way around this situation. I got up and started walking towards him. He still looked rather scared, and when I finally stood right in front of him he just stared at me. After a minute or so it seemed rather stupid, so I turned and looked at my mom and shrugged my shoulders. She got up, so I immediately stepped aside so both Professor Payne and I were facing her. She took the chair with her and placed it in front of him.
“Professor Payne I really don’t believe in empty threats. Students like Amy will see through that and if you want to use threats you have to go through with it. I am very disappointed in you. You have absolutely no idea how to use this ruler or how it feels. So, guess what…. I will show you” With that she sat down on the chair and once again she just held out her hand. When he reached to give her the ruler she just shook her head and grabbed his hand instead and pulled him over her knee. I was so surprised to see how he totally obeyed. He didn’t even try to get off of her lap! I wanted to burst out laughing so bad, but all I could feel was the penetrating look again. It was really weird to watch my mother spank a grown man, especially a man who claimed to be so tough and mean! And now he was lying there on her lap wiggling.
After several minutes of spanking with her palm she commanded him to get up. She showed him the ruler and said, “This is best used on the bare bottom, so pants down and hands on the desk!” Again I looked at her with big eyes and said, “Umm…. Mom? Maybe I should just leave now??” She looked very relaxed at me and said, “Well Amy, your mom isn’t here right now, but I bet she will deal with you later, when we are done here!”
At least she didn’t force me to look at his butt and I really didn’t want to! Well I did look one time when she made him squeal, and I hope the image will be deleted from my memory at some point.
“Okay Professor. Pull up those pants, sit down on the chair and show me what you’ve learned!”
Again I looked desperate at my mom, but there were no mercy at all. He got dressed and sat down as told. He then looked at me and reached his hand towards me. I got over his lap and waited. One hit landed, then another and a third. There was absolutely no rhythm or power behind it, and when my mom saw that I was looking at the clock she interrupted it. She pulled me up, made a signal to him to get of the chair, and then sat down and put me over her lap. “Now look and decide, if this is what you really want to do with your students!”
She started her spanking with her typical pattern. 10 smacks over my skirt, then lifting it and continue with several smacks over my panties. I wasn’t looking at any clocks now! I could only focus on the merciless smacking and the pain from it. I hated her palm, and she knew exactly how to spank me to get certain reactions out of me, but I guess she really did stick to the Professor part and not spanking me as my mom. I could endure this far better. Well just until she asked me to get up and place my hands on the desk. She pulled my panties down and it was so embarrassing, but I forgot all about that when the ruler struck the first time. This was my first meeting with a ruler and it wasn’t pleasant at all, especially when it was administered by someone like her. I only received 10 with it but it was 10 strokes delivered with enough power to make me want to drop to my knees.
“Get dressed Amy”, she said as she turned to speak to the Professor. “I find there are a lot of different ways to deal with students. Corporal punishment is not something to play with. We have a lot of colleagues who manage just fine without ever having to resort to that. But here, you are using a simple tool as a warning, but don’t make a mockery out of it!”
She took the chair back to its place turned and looked at me and said, “Amy, if you ever pick a lock or steal in this school again, you will be at risk of being expelled. This was a warning. Now off you go!”
I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the classroom and straight home. I didn’t really have any further classes to attend, it was just a little lie to avoid dealing with my mother in the hallway, or should I say Professor Hanson.
The next day I had a lot of trouble sitting comfortably in my chair during class after my mom chose to deal with me that evening at home again. I really hate her palm, but even more her brush.
Professor Payne had made a decision. The ruler was not on his desk and not in his hand or anywhere to be seen ever again.
Angel’s Nightmare Weekend:
Part 3 of 4
Birched in Front of Tutor
I’m happy to announce that the HEREmember site is up and running!
The site is in ‘soft launch’ currently, which basically means that I am still awaiting Visa merchant approval status. In the meantime, the site is open to Mastercard, Discover, etc., and I’ll be announcing the Grand Opening soon as I receive Visa approval.
Have a look at the site and tell me what you think?
– Dana
‘Justice Seen to be Done’ is a fun entry to the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy reading of this poor boy’s very late comeuppance as much as I have.
– Dana
Spanking story fans,
Here is an especially realistic entry to the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. Honest, sweet, and emotional, Lily is a very believable character. Enjoy:
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lily said softly. “I feel more and more pressure trying to keep up with all of my classes and other responsibilities, and it feels like it has gotten too hard.”
Readers,
What does it mean when we say that we have something ‘in common’? For example: spanking.
Many of us have spanking in common, right?
But how many of our preferences are the same? Maybe you prefer to be spanked, while I prefer giving spankings. Perhaps you have a preference for leather implements while the next person has a preference for wood.
So you and I both enjoy roleplay, let’s say. We have that in common. But you enjoy strict, domineering characters while I tend to prefer a firm yet loving demeanor.
Many who enjoy spanking play consider it an outright sexual turn-on, while just as many others (I believe) are not interested in incorporating sexual aspects into spanking.
A specific example: I love giving ‘good girl’ spankings. I also enjoy spanking just for the sake of spanking. My girl Angel, however, doesn’t quite compute the good girl spanking – her preference is for maintenance or disciplinary-type spankings. While we do, indeed, find many places to come together – as Angel receives a LOT of spankings – our specific tastes do not necessarily align in every area.
The point is that they don’t have to. My specific interests in the intricacies of the fetish do not have to be yours, and vice-versa (viva la difference and all that, doncha know?). There will still likely be many things on which we do agree, and we can chalk up those instances where we don’t to personal tastes. Whether within personal relationships or the broader spanking enthusiast community (as it were), a little open-mindedness goes a very, very long way.
I will not go so far as to suggest a group hug, but will say that I am always inspired when I see spankos coming together and sharing ideas with an open mind, for the common good of the community.
– Dana
PS. Speaking of ‘common good’ – the Boardwalk Badness Weekend party is quickly approaching, and I am about as ready as a first-timer can be! I’ll be seeing lots of friends and meeting even more online ‘friends’ for the first time, as well as participating in a couple of fun activities. It’s going to be a WHOLE lot of excitement and I’ll be sure to share some of the details after.
‘The Petulant Professor’ is a fun fictional spanking romp through yet another institution of learning, in this entry to the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. You’ll love it!
– Dana
My name is Joan Galt and I am a 46 year old professor of economics at the University of Colorado. I am only 5′ tall and weigh 95lbs. For the past three years I have been researching how the failed Keynesian economic policies of Franklin Roosevelt prolonged the depression of the1930’s, caused a depression within the depression in 1937, and turned the depression into The Great Depression. One of my rivals in the economics department is Professor Joseph Kline. Everyone in the economics department know that Professor Kline and I have a strong dislike for each other. He is a small man, and behaves like a petulant child. He is known for his rude remarks to others and his personal hubris is discussing.
My three years of research on F.D.R.’s failed economic policies were stolen from the desk in my office that adjoins my classroom. I was ready for publication and the loss was devastating. I suspected the little weasel Professor Kline who is on the opposite end of the political spectrum and professed Keynesian stimulation of the economy.
When I shared my dilemma with Carolyn, a friend of mine, she recommended her attorney, Alexis Reed. Alexis graduated from our university’s law school with honors. She is 30 years old and over 6′ tall. She has the shapely well toned muscular body of an athlete that men ogle and she can be ruthless in court. Alexis’ firm contracted with a detective agency that specialized in surveillance cameras. Video cameras set off by motion detectors were installed in my office and classroom and information was leaked to the economics department that copies of my research was saved on my personal computer locked in my classroom desk. The trap was set!
Less than one week later while reviewing tapes Professor Kline was observed entering my empty classroom with a master key, breaking into my desk, and stealing my personal computer. The information on the tapes not only could convict the little weasel of felony theft; but, the information could lead to his dismissal from the university.
I met with Alexis in her office where she played the evidence on the tapes for me and we discussed the options available to me. My first priority was my research. Second to that I wanted to see the petulant professor punished. I suspected that he wouldn’t do any jail time for the theft of my computer; but, it was likely that he would loose his position at the university. Alexis had another alternative. If my computer and research was returned and he submitted to going over my knee for a severe no nonsense paddling we wouldn’t pursue other charges. I explained to Alexis that I couldn’t stand his hubris and petulance at our monthly departmental meetings but that even though he is a small man I doubted that I would be capable of administering the paddling he deserved. Alexis told me that she was an expert spanker and proposed that she would be capable of administering the severe paddling that he deserved.
I agreed with Alexis. Professor Kline was summoned to my classroom. When Alexis arrived with her briefcase in hand she looked stunning. Her blond hair was tied in a bun, she wore a knee length tight black pencil skirt, black stockings, heels, a thick black leather belt around her narrow waist, a thin white silk blouse, and a suit jacket.
The petulant professor was confronted with our evidence and agreed to our terms: 1. he would return to my classroom with my research and personal computer 2. Alexis would administer a no nonsense severe paddling immediately after he accepted our terms 3. next week one hour before our departmental meeting he would report to my office where Alexis would administer a second paddling 4. one month later he will again report to my office for a third paddling from Alexis one hour before our next departmental meeting 5. in return we will not pursue the matter in the criminal or civil justice system. Professor Kline agreed.
Alexis removed her suit jacket and you could see the outline of her lacy bra through her thin white silk blouse. She put a straight backed chair in front of my classroom desk and pulled a spencer style paddle,” Dana’s Inferno”, from her briefcase. It was about 17″ long, 3″wide, and about 1/2″ thick with holes drilled in the business end. She reminded Professor Kline that this would be the first of three paddlings he would receive from her and the next two would be minutes before his next two departmental meetings.
Alexis ordered him to her right side and instructed him to lower his pants and briefs to his knees. She draped him over her shapely lap where her strong muscular arms pinned him helplessly over her lap. Alexis administered a severe no nonsense paddling to the helpless petulant man as he kicked, cried, begged, squirmed, and begged for her to stop. I was thrilled as I watched his naked bottom turn pink, red, and bright crimson as Alexis paddled his bottom from the top of his knees to the top of his bottom. When finally released he hopped, danced, and ran around my classroom. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying. Alexis was truly an expert spanker! I enjoyed a sense of power watching this little weasel kick and squirm as Alexis administered his spanking. Alexis certainly enjoyed reducing Professor Kline to a crying brat dancing around my classroom holding his scarlet bottom. I felt satisfaction knowing that whenever I looked in his eyes he would have to look away!
One week later about one hour before our departmental meeting Professor Kline reported to my office. The little weasel meekly looked down every time I made eye contact. Alexis arrived with her blond hair tied up wearing a tight short brown pencil skirt, beige stockings, heels, a thick brown leather belt, a red silk blouse, and a suit jacket. Alexis put a straight backed chair in the center of my office, removed the wicked looking “Dana’s Inferno” from her briefcase, and smoothed her skirt as she sit in the chair with the paddle on her lap. She ordered the professor to her right side where she lowered his pants and briefs to his knees before she turned him over her nylon clad knees for the spanking of his life. Alexis spanked up one side of his bottom and down the other followed by a series of spanks up and down the middle of his bottom finally settling on another series of spanks where his bottom met his legs. With each of the over 50 spanks administered her muscular arm raised the paddle high above her head before she brought it down with a snap of her wrist. The weasel kicked and screamed; but, no one was in the building except us! Her strong muscular body rendered the little professor helpless as he struggled in vain to get off of her lap. His bottom was one big welt when she finally released him to do his spanking dance around my office. Both Alexis and I laughed at the spectacle.
At our departmental meeting Professor Kline continued to squirm uncomfortable in his chair and explained his red puffy teary blood shot eyes as allergies. Whenever I tried to make eye contact he would submissively look down. The outcome of the theft from my empty classroom and the stress it caused me was worth the satisfaction I have received watching the little professor’s attitude become adjusted. He no longer demagogues the issues, and his hubris was gone when dealing with me because I have seen him crying, begging, kicking, squirming like the petulant little professor he is. And he has one more appointment with Alexis and me!
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all four excellent chapters from our winning writer in the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest. (Now get ready for your ‘prize’!) Here’s number four:
The new junior professor was brilliant and talented. But every bit of her promise was matched by inappropriate behavior. John Lewis tipped back in his chair, hands laced behind his head. This girl was bratting him in hopes of being spanked! That would not do.
He leaned forward and dialed the phone. “Mrs. Thomas? … Yes, John Lewis here…” He hung up the phone and smiled. This girl would not be bratting for a spanking after Mrs. Thomas finished with her.
==============
As she neared the end of the long corridor, the slim dark-haired woman did a double take as she recognized a familiar face. Still, she greeted the woman cordially. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Thomas.”
The older woman grunted her response, “Good day, missy.” She was possessed of a mind with a solitary purpose: administering a hard spanking to a deserving young woman. Still, as she passed the more attractive woman, she turned hopefully to size up the woman walking away. The woman was conservatively dressed in a dark skirt and jacket. Her skirt was neither too tight nor short. Pity that, thought Mrs. Thomas.
=================
The two women disciplinarians were a study in contrasts. Rebecca’s disciplinarian was slender and attractive, cool and professional, well-dressed and elegant, firm but caring. Mrs. Thomas, on the other hand, was her complete opposite. Although her role was that of a disciplinarian, her path to discipline was markedly different from the attractive raven-haired woman and her appearance spoke volumes about her philosophies. She was a large and unattractive woman, her manner of dress was shapeless and dated, and she was as hard and harsh as she looked. She was an unforgiving and strict disciplinarian, and she firmly practiced “Spare the rod, spoil the adult”. She had been raised in a private girls’ school where old style discipline was practiced religiously, and she carried on those traditions with the conflicted and humorless approach of those who had taught her. Mrs. Thomas only took on young ladies for her ministrations.
Professor Duncan knocked loudly on the door of the office. “Hello‼” she called out in a loud voice that demanded attention, and she pushed open the door. Mrs. Thomas did not like loud noises nor did she like pushy young women. This woman irritated her, sight unseen.
Amy Duncan was a petite red-head with wide green eyes. She was a natural beauty and her feminine form was well toned and equally attractive. Unmoved by her beauty, Mrs. Thomas sized her up and came to a quick judgment: short skirt, loose woman. Mrs. Thomas was certain that short skirts were The Devil’s path to immoral behavior and her favorite thing to do was punish women who wore immodest skirts. The length of Amy Duncan’s skirt was inappropriate for a professor. Or any woman of good moral character, thought Mrs. Thomas.
This woman was missing a modest skirt and Mrs. Thomas would set that to right in short order.
Mrs. Thomas regarded the attractive woman with beady eyes. She wasted no time in getting to the seat of the matter. “Good day, Miss Duncan. That skirt is much too short, don’t you think?”
Amy Duncan recoiled in surprise. Amy Duncan immediately challenged her back with unconcealed sarcasm. “Noooooooo,” she simpered, “I do NOT think it is ‘much too short,'” she ended in a lightly mocking tone and she rolled her eyes as she put her hands on her narrow hips. Who was this bitter crone, anyhow, she thought, a wave of annoyance passing across her face that did not go unnoticed by the woman watching her.
Mrs. Thomas stepped out from behind the large desk and made a beeline, straight to the young woman. She laced her fingers through Amy’s red hair, and half dragged, half pushed the surprised woman towards the desk. “Have you lost all sense of decorum, Ms. Duncan? Or perhaps you were not instructed as to what you should expect from this meeting,” she seethed. “I am Mrs. Thomas, and I am your disciplinarian. You have been assigned to me for attention. That smart talk of yours ends. NOW.”
Her hand still meshed in a tangle of red hair, Mrs. Thomas toppled the young professor forward over the desk, pinning her down with a hand to the small of her back. Amy Duncan gasped in outrage: she did not yet realize the peril she faced.
“You are missing a skirt of inappropriate length for your professional assignment. The one you are wearing is entirely too short, young lady. Very immodest, indeed, and a poor example for the students. It distracts the men around you, as well. You will find an appropriate length skirt when I am done with you, to be sure.”
Indeed, the skirt was very immodest, Mrs. Thomas noticed with a bit of triumphant satisfaction as she stared at the woman bent forward over the desk. Amy’s pink lace-edged panties were peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. The pretty panties did not fully cover her lower cheeks, which peeked out appealingly. Mrs. Thomas had ways of dealing with short hems and she was starting to like Amy for all the wrong reasons.
“You can’t do this to me! I am a professor at this school, who do you think you are? This is an outrage! I will not tolerate this one minute more!” Amy hollered.
Mrs. Thomas released her hold on the woman; Amy knew it would be trouble to rise. “Is that so, Ms. Duncan?” Mrs. Thomas produced Amy’s discipline notice. She read it aloud, then pushed it under Amy’s face. “Discipline or termination, Ms. Duncan.” A sigh escaped Amy as she signed the paper unhappily, still splayed awkwardly over the desk.
Mrs. Thomas snatched the signed notice away. A spanking it would be.
She stepped behind the young woman, admiring the tiny tight bottom before her. Pacing slowly back and forth, behind the girl, she addressed her coldly. “In my day, a lady wore her skirt past her knees, Ms. Duncan, a proper length for a lady. Bent over, a lady’s skirt would keep her modestly protected, showing no more thigh than…” she stopped behind the hapless Amy, and drew a line a hands-breadth above her knee with a finger, “THIS.”
She resumed her pacing and lecturing. “You, on the other hand… you are not covered properly. You are attracting all the wrong kind of attention and I aim to correct that.” For one thing, Amy’s short skirt was attracting the attention of Mrs. Thomas and her paddle. She picked up a thin paddle from the bookshelf and approached the girl. The paddle was deceptive: it was a small and light child’s game paddle, and it looked easy to bear but nothing could be further from the truth when held within the strict clutch of this spanker.
“Together, we are going to make note of the proper skirt length. Anything that should be covered but is not? I am going to spank it with this little paddle, just like this.” She tapped the paddle rapidly against her palm.
She smoothed her palm along Amy’s thighs…”Here. These thighs should be covered, from here to here…” Her hand painted the backs of Amy’s exposed thighs, then stopped at the little bubbles of butt bursting out from under her panties. She patted the exposed bottom cheeks, just a little too long. “…and these naughty little cheeks will get a good spanking, too… So you will never, ever, forget to keep them covered.”
Amy’s heart flipped over in her chest. This spanking sounded painful, unlike the naughty ones her boyfriend gave, or loving ones, like the ones she had received back home. She thought briefly about Dr. Lewis, and fervently wished that he was the person about to spank her bottom. Dr. Lewis was stern and imposing, but he had a kindness about him.
“Then, I am going to flip up your skirt and paddle you on the seat of your panties. When I get done, you will find appropriate skirts in the future.” Mrs. Thomas announced. She stepped up to Amy, pulling her tightly across her powerful thigh, pinning the young professor’s inner arm against her bulk, then wrapped her arm around the girl, trapping her outside wrist in the process. “For your own protection, my dear. I’d hate to paddle those pretty little fingers. That might hurt.”
Amy squirmed uncomfortably. She liked spankings for sure, and she had, indeed, been craving one…. up till now. This did not sound like fun at all, it scared her. She had never been paddled before. That certainly wasn’t anything she had considered as a possibility when she signed the damning slip of white paper. The color drained from her face. She was trapped against this hard woman’s muscular leg and held firmly in place. She twisted a bit, trying to see if there was any give to the woman’s hold on her. There was none. The woman noticed her actions, and in response, pulled Amy up even tighter, then slid her other leg across the much smaller woman’s ankles. “You won’t be going anywhere for some time, dear,” she adjusted the paddle in her hand, “because I am going to devil your behind.”
With no further words or even a warning tap, Mrs. Thomas began spanking the redhead. She focused her attention only on Amy’s right thigh, and she spanked fast using short, light strokes. The strokes were light but the pace was immediately intolerable to the girl. The spanker did not let up. Up and down the rapidly reddening thigh, she slapped the paddle again and again on the writhing girl until her thigh was thoroughly painted red. She moved up to the edge of pink lace and the bubble peeking out. “This naughty bottom will be properly covered next time I see you, Ms. Duncan,” she announced. The miserable red head did not hear over the sound of her own shrieking.
When Mrs. Thomas paused, the bottom of Amy’s butt was puffy and swollen and her thigh was scarlet. But only the right. Mrs. Thomas set herself to rectifying that, spanking the agonized young professor anew, doing the same to the left as she’d done to the right. She briskly slapped away, keeping her pace of rapid, stinging strokes. Amy had cried immediately, her crying broken only by shrieking or screeching. Amy bucked violently in futility; the woman held her securely and there was no deterring her. Broken, Amy finally gave up her fight as the bottom of her bottom was spanked again and again.
Once the left side was evenly paired with its flaming red counterpart, Mrs. Thomas stopped swinging but she did not release the exhausted crying woman. Amy tried but failed to catch her breath between noisy sobs as the woman resumed speaking.
“This naughty bottom will be properly covered next time I see you, Ms. Duncan, are we clear? You will find an appropriate skirt, yes?”
Amy sobbed out a loud “Yes!” her voice catching, hoping for some mercy and an end to her hellish workout. “Please, oh, please, oh please, oh please, Mrs. Thomas, I have learned my lesson, please stop oh stop oh stop spanking me…I promise…I promise…” She dissolved in tears and gibberish as fire coursed through her backside. The bottom of her bottom had taken the worst of the spanking, and Amy felt sure it was raw. Her arms held fast, she could only dream of putting her hands back to smother the fire behind her.
Just wait until I raise that skirt, thought Mrs. Thomas, then she will truly know God. Mrs. Thomas flipped the paddle backwards in her hand. She poked a coarse finger beneath the elastic of the pretty pink panties, pinched it with her thumb, pulled it out and down, then let it snap back into place. Amy winced and gasped as the elastic bit into her puffy bottom. Such pretty panties, thought the spanker. She snapped the elastic on the other side, and Amy winced again, sobbing. The older woman flipped the short skirt up. The filmy panties were practically transparent, and she could see the cleft separating Amy’s buttocks quite clearly. Those nearly naked buns were dressed for a spanking, Mrs. Thomas thought. She smiled, relishing the sight, knowing the panties would provide no protection at all from the paddling the milky white bottom was about to get.
Mrs. Thomas loved the site of a tender swollen bottom, and she enjoyed seeing women buck and cry and burn beneath her hand. The red head’s fair spanked skin colored up into a fierce deep red, and Mrs. Thomas was pleased at the prospect of broiling the white canvas before her. She admired the curves. They were indeed, naughty, and put there by the Devil himself, she thought.
“Ms. Duncan, I told you I was going to paddle your panties, and I am determined to blister that wanton little bottom of yours. That short skirt, and these slutty panties? We cannot have a teacher on this campus, dressed like a slut. Your trashy, trampy behavior ends today. I will teach you some modesty if it takes me all day,” the hard woman lectured.
Amy blushed deeply. Her skirt was cute, she thought, ok, maybe too short for school. She could see that point now: her wardrobe WAS missing skirts of appropriate length. But calling her a slut? Amy Duncan was still a virgin. Humiliation washed over her in waves and she cried harder.
Humiliation was about to be the least of her concerns. Mrs. Thomas was a spanking machine and she liked spanking her girls soundly until they couldn’t sit comfortably. “We are just getting started, my dear. I mean to drive The Devil out of you with a fire to match his own.” Mrs. Thomas sat on the desk and pulled the girl onto her leg and pinned her securely. With the same lightning fast stroke she’d used before, she set to work torching the petite, panty clad bottom.
This spanking hurt unbearably.
Still, Amy Duncan would not be bruised up in any way that would prevent her from getting spanked again, exactly the same way, next Thursday.
Or any day before then, should she dare show up to work sans an appropriate skirt again.
=================================
Amy Duncan sat on the hard student chair, bawling openly. Completely broken down, she was way past the point of glowering at the woman who had just punished her. She could only sit there, on her well roasted rump, and cry. To complete her humiliation, Mrs. Thomas had lowered the pink panties then rapidly paddled the small sit spot, over and over again. That had been the worst of all. Amy had screeched and howled and struggled mightily but she was held fast by the powerful woman. The searing fire in Amy’s backside made it clear that Mrs. Thomas especially liked spanking girls where it hurt most: where the buttocks met thighs and that little spot in the center.
After the fiery spanking, Amy’d been put in a corner to stand, skirt up, panties down, with her scorched bare bottom on display for several long minutes. As much as she wanted to rub the sting away, Amy didn’t dare. Amy was sure this harsh woman had eyes in the back of her head, and she had threatened to start the spanking all over again if Amy so much as touched herself once. Amy was sure she meant it. She had not taken the first spanking well at all, and did not want another.
Amy’s whole rear was blazing red, and the impressive swelling at the bottom of her cheeks made lowering herself onto the chair an ordeal. She settled gingerly onto the wooden seat with her skirt still up and her panties still down, facing the timer which worked its way, slowly, down.
Amy Duncan did not think she liked spankings any more.
——————————————————
The bell rang loudly, jangling Amy’s fractured nerves. Her ordeal in the chair was nearing an end.
“Professor Duncan. You will find skirts of appropriate length to wear, immediately,” Mrs. Thomas intoned as she held up an ugly dark skirt. It was a baggy sack of heavy material, and it was long enough to cover part of Professor Duncan’s calves and wide enough to fit two of the petite professor. “I will be back to check your skirt length daily, young lady, and when I bend you over, I expect to see you covered… from where?” she asked the sobbing woman.
With a shaking finger, Amy Duncan drew a line across the back of her thigh, a hands breadth above the knee.
Satisfied, the woman grunted and roughly thrust the ugly garment into the punished professor’s sack. “We’ll see whether you learned your lesson tomorrow. You will report here, to me, at 4:00 pm precisely. Those thighs had better be covered or you can expect another spanking, exactly like the one you just got. For now, you can walk around with that bright red bottom on display in case anyone else has any foolish ideas about how a woman should dress. You are dismissed.”
With a grim smile, Mrs. Thomas realized the girl would have to walk past the department chairman’s office. He would appreciate knowing that the little professor would no longer be distracting him with her hussy behavior. She picked up the phone.
The professor was still crying as she stumbled out of the door, her skirt still half up. Tears blinded her as she snuffled and shuffled down the hall. Her walk was stiff and anybody who saw her would know exactly why, especially the teaching staff. And especially Dr. Lewis.
Amy Duncan rubbed her bottom as she hobbled along, desperately trying, but failing, to erase the burn. She was oblivious and well past caring what anyone thought. All she could think about was her flaming red backside.
College was a lot harder when you were the teacher, she thought.
Our considerate winner of the ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest knows how much we love to read spanking stories, so we’re lucky enough to have this one in four parts! Here’s part three:
Here’s part two of the winning entry for March’s ‘School Daze’ spanking story contest….
What’s REALLY Missing?
It was Thursday afternoon, 3:55 p.m. to be precise. Always ahead of schedule, Rebecca stepped in to the lab. She now used her full name of Rebecca, and so did everyone else. It reflected her new maturity and grace. She turned to her disciplinarian, a woman she had come to regard with a curious mixture of warm regard and trepidation. “Good afternoon, ma’m,” she politely greeted the formal woman before her. The even tone of her voice belied the butterflies in her tummy: Rebecca was here for a regular discipline session.
By now, their polite greeting had become an ingrained pattern… every Thursday, precisely at 3:55; she turned the key, entered the room, greeted the woman, then took her place across this woman’s knees. The woman quickly evaporated all gracefulness with a firm spanking. She’d come to like and respect the disciplinarian immensely, and in some respects, Rebecca looked forward to their weekly meetings even though she always left with a sore bottom. Each session made her more aware of her place in the world and how she could be a better person. Now, she was thinking, just the right amount of extra courtesy and respect might spare her bottom a tiny bit. It couldn’t hurt to try.
The woman rose from the desk and strode over to greet her charge. Slim and elegant, with raven hair, she was both beautiful and intimidating. “Good afternoon to you, too, Miss Rebecca,” she cordially greeted the young professor with a charming smile, meeting her at the door. Despite their mutual regard and warmth for each other, the woman was fully committed to her responsibilities. She placed a hand on Rebecca’s arm and firmly directed her away from the door, walking her towards the armless chair at the front of the room. As always, it was placed in front of the teaching desk, facing the classroom. Her voice was cheerful and pleasant. She sat down upon the chair and directed Rebecca across her knees with a couple of pats upon her thigh. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you,” she smiled. “You know what to do by now, I expect you to be quick about it.”
“Yes, ma’m,” Rebecca shyly mumbled. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you as well,” and that was true enough. Her weekly discipline sessions with this woman had a certain rhythm. She was first given an over the knee maintenance spanking. Then, it was over to her special spot at the opposite side of the first bench and bent over to address the week’s accounting. Rebecca liked the firmness and control with, and after a thorough accounting review, she felt peaceful and even. Still, it was a spanking, and spankings hurt. Especially from this woman. Rebecca shuffled her feet nervously, and then haltingly folded herself across the woman’s lap.
Rebecca recalled with chagrin that the door latch had not clicked closed. Again. As usual, anyone walking by the lab would hear the noisy sounds of her humiliation. It would do no good to ask this woman to close the door all the way; she never did. Rebecca sighed and settled herself carefully and the woman raised her skirt. She liked the beginnings of her spankings well enough, they were kind of dreamy and warm. It was the middle and end she dreaded, that was where things hurt almost unbearably. As the spanking continued, the lecturing began, “In order to teach? First, one needs to learn…” the woman intoned. Rebecca found it harder and harder to hold still, and it seemed like her spanking was taking much longer than usual. It was certainly much harder than the one she’d taken last week. Tears welled in her eyes as she gasped and sobbed.
Finally, the smacks stopped. The spanking had ended not a minute too soon for her. Or had it? Rebecca attempted to rise.
“Miss Rebecca! Get back down where you belong, immediately.” She placed a firm hand across the young woman’s shoulders and forcibly pushed the professor back down. “Did I release you yet?” the woman sternly asked, and emphasized her question with another push on Rebecca’s shoulders. Rebecca realized her mistake too late and sadly shaking her head, she slumped back down. “Today, I’d planned to teach you a lesson about finding your place quickly…” the woman tapped her lap next to Rebecca’s face, “I am a little annoyed with your stalling. You certainly know what is expected of you. Don’t you. ” She leaned forward, her face close to Becky’s face. She grabbed Rebecca’s hair, lacing her fingers through the long strands, and pulled. Their eyes met. Rebecca tried to look away, but this woman would have none of it.
“Look at me when I’m speaking,” she commanded with another tug of Rebecca’s long hair. The woman’s happy smile was gone, replaced now with a look of sternness. “You certainly ought to know by now that you WILL,” she tugged Rebecca’s hair for emphasis, “you WILL do as expected. You are going to be spanked. You know it. I know it. You will get over my knee for your spanking without hesitation. Always. And you will NOT get up until I release you. Is that clear?” She paused, but Rebecca’s voice caught and she could not speak. “You seem to be having a little trouble learning today…” The woman said casually, almost absently. She abruptly adjusted Rebecca’s head with a deft tug of her hair, and she hissed into her ear, “I have a little solution for that problem.” With that, she abruptly released Rebecca’s hair. As Rebecca flopped forward, the woman reached a hand into her skirt pocket and pulled out a frightening, wooden paddle. “See?” She held the paddle down to Rebecca’s face so she could see the holes drilled throughout the bit of well varnished wood. Rebecca’s heart dropped as dismay spread throughout her. She had heard that holes made a paddle hurt more, and she was about to collect some data points on that hypothesis. A lot of data.
The woman gave her bottom a few warning taps with the paddle. “So. Let’s talk. Shall we?” Her voice was sweet but laced with impending danger. This question did not need to be answered.
Rebecca knew she was in for it. Still, she found herself agreeing.
“This is going to sting, Miss Rebecca,” the raven-haired woman said, understating the consequences. She adjusted herself in for a much longer stay in the chair. She threw a leg over Rebecca’s, trapping the professor.
As usual, the disciplinarian was right.
==================================
After a particularly hard volley, the strokes abruptly stopped. The woman set the paddle across her lower back and gave Rebecca’s bottom a couple of pats with her hand.
The paddling had been firm and thorough. To her embarrassment, Rebecca had screamed and howled and kicked and finally cried. To no avail. Paddled through her tears, she was spanked until her disciplinarian was satisfied. It had taken a long time to satisfy the woman and Rebecca’s bottom and thighs burned.
“I think that was a good lesson, don’t you?” the woman asked expectantly.
“Yes, ma’m, thank you,” choked the sobbing professor. As soon as the words had tumbled out, Rebecca dissolved in a fresh gale of tears and wailing.
The disciplinarian let her cry it out. Slowly, she stroked the sobbing professor’s bottom. “There, there, now… you took that quite well…” Rebecca brightened at the praise. She shuddered a little as she recalled what had just happened here. When the second spanking began, she had quickly bolted forward, like a scalded cat. It burned and hurt immediately. There was no escaping the relentless swings and the vigor of the woman who held her firmly in place and there had been nothing to do but take the scalding as it was given. Rebecca had made the mistake of putting her hands back to protect her bottom and her thighs had taken a good thrashing for her trouble. The holes had made it hurt more, and Rebecca’s posterior was dappled with burning round spots.
The smile had spread back across the woman’s countenance as she continued stroking and quietly praised her student. Rebecca choked back some sobs, and relaxed. “Very well then, I think we are done here.” She set the maple torch down upon the desk.
With couple of pats to Rebecca’s thoroughly hot and reddened bottom, she released the young professor. She was no longer irritated but no less resolved to see this session through to its logical conclusion. “It’s time for your accounting, Rebecca. Let’s get on with it, please…” she gestured towards the cold lab bench. As if in a dream, Rebecca stood, knowing better than to adjust her skirt. Skirt tucked up into her waste band and panties above her knees, she walked awkwardly but quickly to the bench.
Still trembling, she bent over to await her fate. She could not help but notice that not only was the door ajar, it was actually wide open. At least nobody was standing there. Ashamed, she blushed deep red and buried her face in her arms.
The woman smiled as she approached, her sternness melted into a fond warmth. She gently readjusted the professor so that her face was up and her eyes were forward. “Now, now, Miss Rebecca, that won’t do at all. Hold your head high. You should be proud to be receiving discipline from me.” She peered into the eyes of the bent form. “Your friend Lisa will not be the beneficiary of my attention.” She stroked the professor’s shoulders somewhat absentmindedly and patted her head. “Only the junior professors likely to be offered full professor positions are referred to me. My darling protege, you are doing quite well here. I’m quite proud of your progress.”
Rebecca glowed at the compliment. It made her feel good to have this woman praising her. She straightened her head, arched her back, and pushed her bottom up higher.
======================
The safety light went on in the window of the adjoining lab behind the Freshman Science Teaching Lab. As Dr. John Lewis stepped up to the window, he quietly agreed with his woman friend’s assessment of the young teacher. Eventually, it would be time to take her back under his wing and attend to disciplinary duties himself. However, the young professor needed additional instruction. John Lewis would see to it that she received all appropriate instruction.
With satisfaction, he watched his lady friend step behind the young professor, a heavy strap in her hand. “That will leave a mark,” he thought, as the first heavy stroke fell.
======================
The strapping had made her jump and start but as with her paddling, there was nowhere to go, and no escaping the relentless woman behind her. Rebecca was grateful that her weekly accounting had been minimal. A dozen solid strokes, no more.
She laid the strap on the bench. “Now, you stay right there Miss Rebecca…” Glad for the break but dismayed this no longer seemed to be a quick ending, she obediently did as commanded. Rebecca was not eager to incur extra penalties. She waved her butt through the air in a desperate, futile attempt to cool herself.
The woman walked to the front desk and rummaged through her travel kit. Rebecca shuddered at the sound of wood against wood knocking against each other and god only knew what else was in there. It sounded like a sack full of baseball bats.
Pulling out a large frat style paddle, she held it up and inspected it. “This will do,” she thoughtfully considered. Rebecca stopped breathing, terrified. What had she done to deserve that? She reviewed her accounting, and there was nothing omitted, no serious infractions.
The woman walked from around the desk, the frat bat in hand. As she paused by the doorway, her arm rapidly snaked through it. She reeled in her victim, tugging her by the ear.
“Why Jeanne, how delightfully of you to stop by,” she smiled with a look that said she was not delighted at all. “Do come in.” A large mop of unruly red hair was attached to the unfortunate ear. Rebecca’s eyes widened as she recognized the woman from chemistry. Her old professor, Dr. Gooding. Rebecca blushed scarlet but Jeanne did not notice one bit.
Under any other circumstances, Jeanne Gooding would have dearly loved to admire the tear-stained face of her former student. Jeanne had thought Rebecca a little Miss Know-it-All, and in her eyes, Rebecca’s round bottom begged for a sound spanking. Sadly, students were not spanked at this school. Unlike the professors.
Jeanne Gooding concerned herself with saving her own hide. “I-I-I’m missing my laptop, I thought I m-m-m-might have left it in here when I was done t-t-t-eaching.” Jeanne was a strong, confidant woman, but her composure had evaporated. The disciplinarian let go of the ear she’d pinched, and Dr. Gooding snapped upright.
She gently clucked a few times. “Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne. There is no need for you to make up stories. You don’t teach any freshman classes, your lab is across the hall, isn’t it,” to which the large buxom woman reluctantly nodded, caught in her lie. Jeanne straightened her clothing and tried to look dignified but failed. “You aren’t missing your laptop at all, are you,” the woman thoughtfully inquired. She took a step back to watch Jeanne Gooding’s reaction. As she expected, Jeanne’s eyes dropped to the floor to hide her mortification, and a quiet “no” whispered its way past her lips. The woman slowly appraised Jeanne, as the woman twitched uncomfortably, eyes still cast down.
Finally, she broke the silence. “I believe you ARE missing something Jeanne, but it isn’t a computer. Is it.” Her voice became even quieter. “What you are missing, Jeanne, is DISCIPLINE.” She enunciated each syllable clearly. “Isn’t that right? Jeanne.” When Jeanne Gooding whispered, “oh yes,” Rebecca’s eyes widened. The disciplinarian pointed the large paddle towards Rebecca’s bench. “Right there, Jeanne, across from Miss Rebecca, face-to-face. I want Miss Rebecca to see how we deal with nosey snoops here. Privacy is important to all of us.” Rebecca gasped in amazement as she slowly comprehended what was about to happen. Jeanne Gooding was about to be paddled, right in front of her.
Jeanne, meanwhile, knew her fate was sealed and she stepped over to the bench to collect what she was truly missing. She looked into Rebecca’s eyes with anger and resignation. It was this brat’s fault, she thought, but she said nothing, because she knew the woman holding the paddle was right. She shouldn’t have snooped, and she knew better yet she’d done it anyhow. She was caught, from the moment she stepped into the windowed rear lab and joined John Lewis at the window to watch Rebecca’s first punishment. It was also a mistake to come back, week after week, to listen at the door. She had earned what was coming, fair and square.
Jeanne roared as the woman began her work. Perhaps she had craved a good spanking, but maybe not this much. The woman behind her did not seem to agree and continued swinging away. Rebecca was fascinated as she watched the face across from her flush and scrunch, then bellow, beads of sweat breaking out across the larger woman’s forehead as she was driven forward with each blow. Finally, she stopped. “Is this what you were really missing, Jeanne?” she asked, more to herself than the bottom in front of her. She admired the florid red and purple bruises on Jeanne’s welted behind.
Jeanne let out a breath, and panted, glad for the end. Even though this had been a painful punishment, in all honesty, she had needed it. Jeanne felt a sense of calm wash over her as the heat pulsed through her backside.
“Miss Rebecca, stand up and come over here, this is something I want you to see.” The woman was pointing at Jeanne’s bruised bottom.
Rebecca stood and joined her disciplinarian behind Jeanne Gooding. She stared at the bottom before her. There were two white-hot bull’s eyes centered low on her bottom, and her large bottom was mottled and welted. Those white spots looked incredibly painful, and Rebecca resisted the urge to poke them. She did not like Professor Gooding any more than Jeanne liked her. She smiled a little, satisfied that this former nemesis had gotten her comeuppance. Rebecca’s own shame in having her punishment witnessed paled in comparison to the delight she took in seeing Jeanne’s swollen behind.
Sensing Rebecca’s glee and her unspoken desire to touch the professor’s bottom, she took Rebecca’s hand and placed it on Jeanne’s bottom. “Miss Rebecca, are you satisfied that Jeanne has been appropriately punished?” she sweetly inquired.
Rebecca marveled at the heat radiating into her hand, and she traced a few marks with her fingertip. She poked the white bull’s eyes and Jeanne moaned a little. “These spots here look like they hurt so much,” Rebecca whispered. Finding her voice, she said more clearly, “but these spots here look pretty light.” She brushed her hand across a wide expanse of Jeanne’s bottom. She swallowed a smirk and continued confidently, “I think she needs some more attention HERE,” Rebecca pointed, “and here…and HERE,” patting the ample bottom repeatedly. The woman smiled. Rebecca did not notice: the sight before her transfixed her.
“You heard the girl, Jeanne.”
Jeanne groaned. “Yes, ma’m,” and the disciplinarian resumed her fierce work, Rebecca standing at her side. Rebecca watched and winced as the paddle found a solid target every time. Perhaps it had been a mistake to wish this on her former teacher. Then again, Jeanne had lied to the disciplinarian. She deserved the extra punishment.
Dr. Gooding’s bottom waggled from side to side, and she struggled in vain to suppress her hopping. A particularly fierce blow crumpled the woman’s knees. She scrambled back into place for the next swat, which arrived faithfully.
When the woman stopped this time, there was no question remaining about coverage. “I think that will do, would you agree, Jeanne?” The chemistry professor shook her head violently and called out loudly. “Yes, ma’m!” She had no desire to take any more swats with that paddle and she wanted that clearly known. There were not many in the department who could take a paddling quite like Jeanne Gooding, but even she was well spent.
“Very well, then, Jeanne, you may stand up,” the woman said, but she did not set down the paddle. Jeanne wobbled to her feet. The slender woman turned her around to face the young professor before her. Jeanne resisted the temptation to rub herself, and her hands hung at her sides, her fingers twitching. The woman ran her eyes up and down Jeanne, then turned and rested them upon Rebecca.
“Resume your place, Miss Rebecca,” she addressed the surprised professor. Rebecca’s mouth dropped in protest, but she wisely decided to not speak. Instead, she returned to her spot at the bench and mutely bent over. This was so unfair! A sob started to rise in her throat as the disciplinarian once again took position behind her poised bottom, this time armed with the heavy paddle. “Jeanne, over here,” she pointed with the paddle where she wanted Jeanne to stand. Jeanne gingerly stepped towards Rebecca and admired her rounded butt. Rebecca’s bottom was crimson red already, and small bruises from her earlier paddling speckled her bottom beneath the broad swaths of overlapping red stripes.
“Jeanne. Did I miss anything here?” the dark haired woman inquired innocently. Jeanne relaxed and smiled. She knew exactly where this was going and she answered carefully.
“I don’t see much marking at all, ma’m. Perhaps a proper paddling is in order to be certain. I’ll leave that to your discretion,” said the now gleeful woman from chemistry. Jeanne Gooding would enjoy this dance show from the front row.
Rebecca’s heart fell as the disciplinarian spoke. “Yes, Jeanne. I agree. Miss Rebecca needs to learn a proper lesson here, and a punishment paddling is completely appropriate.”
Turning to Rebecca, she said quite firmly. “I thought we had dealt with your annoying habit of instigating trouble for other people. Apparently, you have not learned your lesson yet at all because you are still at it. By the time I am done here today, it will be a very long time before you cause anyone else trouble, I think. ” She raised her voice. “DO YOU HEAR ME?”
Rebecca shrank down into the bench as her heart skipped in fear. “Yes, ma’m,” she whispered.
“Louder, Miss Rebecca. Tell me… and Jeanne here… exactly how you think I should punish you.”
=========
The young professor looked so very small and defeated. She withered into the bench at the humiliation of begging for her punishment. “Yes, ma’m. I should be paddled, like Professor Gooding.” She started crying before the first smack fell. They were solid, hard smacks, John Lewis noted with great satisfaction. He smiled, enjoying the impressive fireworks display. He was thrilled that he would not have to listen to any complaining from Rebecca about his staff for a long time to come.
Still, he felt a little sorry for her as she watched her bottom quickly darken and the large bull’s eyes appeared. Almost.
====================
The clock turned to 4:59. Nick walked in the room for his 5:00 caning session. He took one surprised look, and quickly dashed back out lest he join this unhappy professor duo.
=================================
The thoroughly chastised professor had lain across the desk for sometime after the punishment had ended. Never again, she thought to herself. Never like that, she resolved to herself. As Jeanne and the disciplinarian approached her again, she quickly considered how she should apologize to the senior professor. But she did not get her chance.
“Miss Rebecca, today you learned… again… that your instigation will not be rewarded. I hope you learned that for the last time.”
Rebecca nodded quickly. She had no desire to experience a hard paddling like that, ever again. “Yes, I’ve learned my lesson and I am so very sorry, ma’m.”
“Still, you need to understand the hierarchy here.” She looked at Jeanne, then back at Rebecca. “Miss Rebecca, what is your full title?”
Unsure what the real question was, she simply answered. “Junior Professor, ma’m.”
“And Jeanne Gooding, what do you think her full job title is? Think carefully, please.”
Sensing a trick, she considered. There wasn’t much question here, so why the careful thought? “Professor Gooding is a Full Professor,” she finally replied.
“That is correct. Professor Gooding is, indeed a FULL professor here. You seem to know her title but you do not seem to understand that she is senior to you…as in, your superior.” She waited for Rebecca to consider the implications, then held up a rulebook and began to read a flagged page. “‘Section 24.1 A: Any Full Professor in Good Standing may order or execute the discipline of junior faculty, as appropriate….” she moved on to the next section. Section 24.1 B: Junior Faculty do not have disciplinary privileges and are expressly forbidden to request or provide the discipline of senior staff members. ‘”
She closed the damning book, looking puzzled. “Miss Rebecca , I was sure you had read the Code of Conduct thoroughly. Dr. Lewis assured me that if anybody knew the rules here, it would be you. But today, you requested the discipline of a senior staff member, did you not?” She set the rulebook down.
Rebecca hung her head in embarrassment. “Yes, I did do that,” Rebecca obediently replied. This was not going to end well, she could tell.
“Very well, then. You admit to your violation of the Code of Conduct, and I shall remand you to Professor Gooding for punishment.” She turned to Jeanne. “Have you considered how you would like to deal with Miss Stewart?”
Jeanne smiled. She remembered very well her agony at the end of this disciplinarian’s arm during her days as a junior professor. She particularly recalled a fierce paddle. “I think Miss Stewart would do well with a strict Spencer paddle punishment. Cold. No warm up. ” She smiled at the thought of bouncing Miss Stewart’s bottom up off that cold lab bench. She would not show her any mercy, and the disciplinarian knew it, too. “Would you be able to bring that paddle of yours next week? I’d like to clean the slate with Miss Stewart promptly.”
Rebecca blanched as her fate was discussed. She fully understood what Dr. Gooding meant by “strict”, and being paddled on top of today’s bruises would hurt a lot more.
Jeanne leaned back and folded her arms across her full bosom. She smiled a smile that was self-satisfied and menacing. Rebecca would be getting a second dose of her medicine and the second dose was sure to be stronger and much harder to take. Jeanne would be sure she took it all. She tried to resist gloating but failed.
“Yes, Jeanne, I think I remember exactly which paddle you would be thinking about, I seem to remember you needed a healthy dose of it yourself when you were a junior professor, if I am not mistaken.” Jeanne Gooding blushed, remembering her humbling days of tutelage with this compelling woman. “You’ll take her at 4:00 p.m. Thursday for me.” She considered Jeanne carefully. “As for you, I think we need to spend some one on one time, reminiscing, to see if we can’t find exactly what it is you are missing. I checked your calendar; you are free at 6:00 pm on Thursdays. I will expect to see you in your lab sharply at 6”
Jeanne did a double take. The woman had set a trap for her, knowing she was listening in, and Jeanne had fallen right into the trap. Very well, then, so be it. The woman was right; she yearned for the control and safety of knowing her discipline would be attended to by a skillful hand. “Yes, ma’m,” she spoke. “6:00 p.m., Thursday.” Her hands went to her full bottom and rubbed instinctively, despite her composure training. The disciplinarian pretended not to notice the lapse.
“All in good time,” she thought. Jeanne Gooding would be getting a firm reminder next week. Starting with the exact same Spencer paddling she administered to Miss Rebecca. She would watch to be certain. Don’t these professors ever learn? She suppressed a smile and dismissed them both.
==========================
She sat in Dr. Lewis’ office in the odd, armless chair. The cold hard surface was both comforting and harsh. John Lewis noticed her shift uncomfortably several times, and asked solicitously, “Is everything all right, Rebecca?”
Rebecca squirmed, tormented by her bruised bottom and the embarrassment she felt. Dr. Lewis certainly knew about her 4:00 discipline sessions. Her disciplinarian was well informed of issues prior to her weekly accounting. She had addressed omissions swiftly: all accountings were to be full and complete, and omissions were the same as lies, she’d said. The only way for her to get the accounting information was from Dr. Lewis himself.
Despite the discomfort, Rebecca had learned to appreciate her new routine and especially the likeable woman who attended to her, and she noted with satisfaction that she was growing more poised and confidant as her discipline increased. Still, sometimes, when the dark haired woman worked her bottom, Rebecca imagined instead that it was Dr. Lewis. His large hands across her bottom, his broad shoulders swinging the straps and paddles and canes that landed across her bottom every week without fail. “I wonder if she tells him what she does to me each week,” Rebecca thought. She had not noticed the little light in the adjoining lab, coming on each week. She did not know about John Lewis’ weekly pilgrimage to the window.
She looked deep into the cold blue eyes of John Lewis and a little quiver trembled through her. “Yes sir, everything is fine,” she replied, politely and serenely, but still, she shifted her weight to the right side. It had taken just a little less punishment.
John Lewis smiled, knowing quite differently. Rebecca was a great hire, and his friend was bringing her along fabulously. The firm hand she was dealt had brought out something wonderful hidden inside. Same with Nick. For some reason, Nick’s harshness toward his students evaporated once he had begun his weekly humbling at the end of the cane. And although he liked Jeanne, but he had noticed her edge towards Rebecca. It had offended him when she joined him in the lab that first week, interrupting his private viewing.
John considered the reason for her squirming and asked. “So. Are there any issues requiring my attention this week?”
He knew, and Rebecca knew it.
“No sir, there are not.”
Satisfied, John entered a note onto his meeting ledger. “Professional Staff Training: $$” read the note for his only task. His disciplinarian would be receiving a very large performance bonus this week.
Readers,
Springtime has sprung (at least here in Las Vegas, anyway), and the School Daze spanking story contest brought out the creative spanko writer in several entrants. You’ll find a few great efforts by our regular contributors, along with some new authors who I’m hoping will keep coming back and sharing their work with us again and again.
My biggest gratitude to every one of you who has contributed a story to these contests. They’re a lot of fun for me, and I hope you enjoy the fruits of our author’s efforts. As I’ve said before, this blog would be sadly lacking without the creativity and time spent by all of you…commenters and readers, too.
Now, with all that sniffly stuff out of the way, should we see who’s won the contest this month?
Congratulations to the author of:
Dr. Lewis raised his hand in a slight, traffic cop sign in the direction of the unfortunate junior professor, Lisa. “One person speaking at a time,” he sternly told her. His voice held an undercurrent of irritation and menace. Lisa stopped speaking, mid-sentence, and sat back in her seat, chastened. All the other junior professors subconsciously sat up straighter in their seats and immediately looked attentive and on-task. Dr. Lewis ran orderly staff meetings.
One of the teachers stifled an “It’s about time she got it” smirk. Becki had no patience for this young professor, who was already proving herself a nuisance… always late, didn’t know her lesson material, unprepared for her classes, not getting grades in on time… the list of reasons why Lisa should get canned was longer than the delicate Lisa girl was tall.
Becki was older than the other junior teachers, and was easily annoyed by their shortcomings. She was more responsible than the others, and always did exactly what Dr. Lewis asked, immediately, whether it was in a staff meeting or by email, and she made sure he knew it as well as who had not. Becki Stewart was quite proud that her classes were in high demand: she knew her material, she was fair to her students, conveyed practical meaning of her lessons to the real world, and had a sense of humor that could make her students laugh even after a difficult exam. Her students adored her, and she was certain that she was Dr. Lewis’ favorite junior professor.
Despite his casual dress and longer hairstyle, Dr. Lewis projected the complete authority of his position as Full Professor and department chair. People instinctively chose their words with care around him. Despite his sense of humor and general look of amusement, the staff and students knew he meant business. The first year teaching staff were routinely assigned to him for weeding out: he was an exacting task master, to be sure, and working for him required full attention and time commitment. But the ones who made it through their first year were certain to be successful within the department. This year’s starting staff of 5 was likely to see several weeded out. Rebecca Stewart would not be one of the weeds.
Becki picked up her pen and resumed taking notes in her well organized teaching notebook. On the page headed “Staff Meeting: 05/11/13” was an entry for the upcoming final exam. Dr. Lewis continued speaking, “All student exams must be graded, entered into the computer, and on my desk no later than 5:00 pm…” he paused for added emphasis, “THURSDAY”…he recited his list of teaching responsibilities while Becki mentally tallied his student count… “…So please have your work completed when and as I have asked.” He looked around the room. “Are there any questions?” The 5 young professors all shook their heads. “Well, then, I am off, if you have any issues, please send me an email or drop by my office. Have a good week.”
With that, he got up, turned and walked out of the room. The remaining teachers began talking amongst themselves, first whispering, then growing louder as Dr. Lewis moved further away. “What does he mean by Thursday?” asked Lisa. Becki sighed, thinking, this woman is an idiot. Oblivious to Lisa’s smoldering glare, Becki explained. “What Dr. Lewis means is that he wants our work done so he can get HIS work done,” Becki lectured Lisa as if she were speaking to a small, dull child. Lisa began streaming a list of excuses why she should not be able to do that… “I teach 2 classes … Dr. Lewis never gives us enough time…” Becki rolled her eyes, thinking to herself “What would Dr. Lewis do if he could hear this?” If Lisa’s papers weren’t in on time, Becki would make sure he knew.
The teachers slowly drifted out of the room, yet Becki remained. Their staff meeting room was held in the teaching laboratory where first year science classes were taught and it was one of Becki’s favorite places on campus. She loved her students, she loved her teaching assignment, and she loved working for Dr. Lewis, partly because she was his pet: of that she was certain. Dr. Lewis had taught her as an undergraduate, and now, here she was, working for him. “He must be so proud of me,” she thought as she went around the room organizing for the next class. He was, in fact, quite pleased with her. Dr. Rubiski, the Dean of Arts and Sciences had even told her that. “Dr. Lewis is very happy to have you as part of his staff, Professor Stewart. He regularly singles you out for praise in our weekly department meeting. He likes you very much. The other senior staff in the department have also been highly complementary to you as well. You are doing quite well here.” Dr. Rubiski was one of those people who never gave false praise, and Becki treasured this memory. She beamed as she went about her work.
Reaching forward, she checked to make sure the water and gas were off. The water valve was sticking, and she had to bend and stretch onto her toes to gain leverage. The cold of the broad slate bench pressed into the soft roll of her lower tummy and finally the dripping stopped. She straightened up and moved to the next bench, thinking now about Dr. Lewis. His habit was to always address her as “Rebecca”… never Ms. Stewart, never Becki… always Rebecca. It reminded her that he was in charge, kind of like how her mom had used her full name when she was in trouble. She, in turn, never thought of him by his first name, even though his emails were signed simply “John”. To her, he was always “Dr. Lewis”: her mentor, her boss, her leader. He was not traditionally handsome yet he was very attractive, all the same. His eyes were a beautiful shade of piercing blue, and they could reflect immense amusement or cold displeasure. When collaborating on demonstration exercises, he had a way of crowding into her personal space… to work my closely with me? to assert his authority and power? or is he attracted to me? she daydreamed. It felt nice when he did that; it made her feel desired and protected and under control all at the same time and she always felt herself positioning herself more attractively when he did that. Her mind swirled but she quickly snapped herself back. “Dr. Lewis will want this lab organized,” leaned forward across the bench to check the valves, and she set herself back to her task of the remaining 4 student benches.
—
She was a very attractive woman, there were no two ways about that. Cute, bouncy and vivacious with a becoming hairstyle and casually professional wardrobe, she projected a natural intelligence and curiosity that were so very appealing. She spoke with ease and did a great job with her students, who looked up to her as a role model. Still, there was that annoying tattletale behavior of hers and tendency to get bossy with the other teachers that needed attention. He had seen her look of triumph when he had reprimanded Lisa during their meeting and he could guess what happened after he left. John Lewis sat back in his oversized office and laced his fingers behind his head. He really did like Rebecca Stewart. She was a good teacher and always quick to take on additional responsibility. He knew he could rely on her. Working with her one on one, he felt an incredible sense of closeness to her that he did not feel towards his other teachers. When setting up classes together, he felt compelled to close in on her, invade her space, stand over her… he loved her palpable tension and disquiet. He could sense her turmoil: she was probably attracted to him, perhaps even had a crush on him. And when she bent forward over the lab bench, her full bottom practically begged him to step behind her. But what to be done about that? he wondered. He certainly couldn’t risk his career in a dalliance with a junior professor of his charge and he was not a man to cheat on his wife. Still. That woman needed attention.
John’s attention turned to his inbox and an emerald green envelope within. Suddenly inspired, he sat up straight in his chair. He knew precisely how to deal with his situation, and deal with it, he would. He picked up the phone. “Hello my dear… good to speak to you also… say, I’m have a little problem that would benefit from your attention… Do you have some time available to help me out?” He hung up the phone and smiled.
——————————————-
Becki knocked tentatively on his massive office door. “Yes?” Dr. Lewis called in response. She opened the door a little and stuck her head inside. “Is this a bad time for you? I can come back if you are busy.” He gestured to the lone armless chair across from his crowded desk. “Come in, sit down.” he commanded. She slipped into his office, for once, uncertain about how to approach him. Her confidence was rattled, he could tell, so he emphasized his control. “Please sit.” It was easy for her to obey him despite her fear, so she sat. And her news was bad enough without irritating Dr. Lewis further. Her mind swirling, she knew it was better to get a problem out in the open quickly where it could be dealt with effectively, before it was too late. But this was not a conversation she wanted to have.
The words shot out of her mouth. “Ilostoneofmystudentsfinalpapers,” she blurted.
“Excuse me?” Dr. Lewis said, “Repeat what you just said. Slowly. So I can hear you this time, Rebecca.”
She looked into his eyes, eyes that were now stone cold and hard as they peered right through her. Feeling exposed and foolish, she blushed and cast her eyes down. “I lost one of my student exam papers. The final. I have no idea what happened,” she felt compelled to softly add, “Sir.”
Dr. Lewis continued staring through her, sizing her up, noting her discomfort. He slowly and carefully chose his words. “Rebecca. You were given precise procedures to follow for handling exams, were you not?” When she nodded assent, he continued. “I don’t understand how you could lose an exam if you followed procedures.”
“I don’t know” she stammered. The color had drained completely from her face.
“Rebecca. Please tell me in detail how you have been instructed to handle your exams,” John Lewis commanded.
She looked up, looked down, then recited the procedure perfectly. “Count all collected exams, place them in a manila envelope, seal the envelope and right my name across the seal, then place it in a locked drawer in a locked office until ready to grade. Place all graded exams in a sealed envelope until ready to return to students.”
“Rebecca, you lost one quiz at the beginning of the year, did you not.” She nodded, so he continued on. “That is the reason I gave you these procedures, is that not correct?” She nodded again. “So, Rebecca, if you did your work properly… how I told you to do it… you should have all of your exams.” He paused again, and she silently wished he would hurry up and get this chastisement over. “So what you are really telling me is that you did not do as I asked.” He paused another uncomfortably long time, letting the weight of her failure sink in. ” You clearly did not learn from your mistake.” He paused again as she sat in continued silence. He folded his hands, steepling his index fingers, tapping them together.
“You have a class of 24 students, is that correct?” She nodded. “But you only have 23 papers, am I understanding you correctly?” She nodded again. “Do you have the exams with you?” She nodded mutely. “May I see them, please.” She withdrew the envelope from her bag and handed it to him. He inspected the envelope. The envelope was marked correctly. He rolled his chair back, opened the center drawer of his desk, and pulled out a letter opener, closed the drawer, and stood up. Slitting the envelope as he walked towards Becki, he towered over her. He sit the opener on the desk edge with careful deliberation and cleared a spot for the papers on his desk. “Let’s count them together, shall we?” She slid down in her seat but he was not going to allow her an easy way out. “Rebecca, stand up please, come here and count with me.”
Slowly, Becki rose to her feet and she stepped forward to where Dr. Lewis was gesturing she should stand next to his broad desk. He firmly laid a paper down on the desk and moved himself to within an inch of her. “One” he counted, and when she remained silent, he picked up the paper and intoned quietly. I am only going to tell you. One. More. Time. We will count them. Together.” A shiver of fear went up her spine as she met his eyes. “Yes, sir,” she replied, as he slapped the first paper down. One after another, they counted, and after what seemed like an eternity, finally reached the sad number 23.
Crestfallen, she met his gaze and said in a very quiet voice, “I don’t know what to do.” She was shaking now, and completely unsure of herself. Her legs felt like they would buckle at any minute.
“Would you like to count them with me one more time? To be certain.” Dr. Lewis asked, peering at her intently.
“No,” Becki answered meekly. “I’ve counted them myself a hundred times. The paper is not there.”
“Whose paper is missing?” Dr. Lewis asked.
“Leah Murphy,” Becki said. Leah was her best student, and more than anything, Becki did not want to see poor Leah get a zero over her mistake. Dr. Lewis couldn’t, no wouldn’t, be so unfair to her student? But he said nothing for a very long time, just stood there looking down upon her.
Finally, he seemed to come to some conclusion in his mind and so, he spoke. “Very well, then, I will see what I can do to fix this and will keep you informed. You are dismissed.”
Thrilled to escape with her job intact and only a humiliating scolding, she hurriedly bent over to collect her things. Dr. Lewis said to her bent over form, “By the way, Rebecca, can you please attend a meeting at 4:00 in the Freshman Science Lab tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, sir. I can do that.” She was back in his good graces: she loved sitting in as his proxy at meetings. Even though it was only Tuesday, she responded oddly. “Have a nice weekend. And I am so sorry to trouble you, it won’t happen again” she said to the door.
“Yes, they always say that…” he said to no one in particular as the door closed behind her.
================
It was precisely 3:55 pm when Becki slipped the key into the lock of the Freshman Science lab door. She always arrived first. Blocking the door with her foot, she pulled her key out, notebook tucked under her arm, and she stepped through the door way.
Startled, her hand slipped off the door knob, and she stopped, midstride. There was someone sitting at her teaching lectern! Becki’s first thought was “student rifling a teacher desk”, but something odd checked her first response. This was no student, and as the woman sat there carefully appraising Becki, it was clear her intent was more ominous than rifling a desk. Despite the polite smile on her face, this woman commanded instantaneous respect and was clearly a woman to fear. Confused, Becki simply stood there, mouth ajar.
“Do come in, Miss Stewart, I have been expecting you,” she quietly commanded. Her voice was cheerful and pleasant but there was something decidedly frightening about this perfectly poised and unfailingly polite woman. “Dr. Lewis was right, you are a very punctual professor. That is a lovely habit,” the woman smiled. “Now, come here please.” Instinctively, Becki tentatively approached the lectern from the student side. She knew her place today was not on the teacher side. The woman smiled again, her black hair and red lipstick highlighting the pale coolness of her fair skin and intense blue eyes. She gently tapped the front of the lectern with a ruler. “Right here, Missy, where we can see each other, face to face. I’d like us to have a little talk.” Becki approached, her heart in her throat. What was going on here? She was about to find out.
“Well, Miss Rebecca, Dr. Lewis has asked that I attend to some matters regarding your teaching performance,” the woman sweetly smiled, a slight warmth? or was it delight? creeping into the smile. Her eyes danced as she surveyed the woman standing awkwardly in front of her. “Something about a lost exam, I believe? Was that one of the issues?” She seemed to enjoy Becki’s predicament.
Becki gulped and replied, “Yes, it is true, I did lose one of my exam papers. I am terribly sorry but I don’t know what to do about it.”
The woman laughed and said, “Oh yes, I do believe you are sorry… they all say that. ” Before Becki could ask what that meant, the woman continued. “But we will soon see how sorry you really are. You are aware that compromising exam quality through incompetence is a valid reason for termination?” Becki’s eyes opened wide as she shook her head no. “Aww Becki, seriously? Dr. Lewis has assured me that if anyone knows the instructor handbook, it is you. Now, let’s try that again. Are you aware that you can be fired for losing that exam?” Tears welling up in her eyes, Becki nodded. “Yes, I am,” she whispered. “Good,” said the woman. “Now we can come up with some ideas for solving your little problem.”
She pushed a piece of paper across the lectern to Becki. “In front of you, you have a disciplinary notice. You can either accept disciplinary action from me, which you can indicate by checking that little box HERE,” she gave the paper a little tap with her ruler, “or you can accept termination by checking that little box…” she tapped again, “THERE. Either way, I will need your signature HERE.” She gave a final tap to a signature line at the bottom of the paper. “A refusal to sign is the same as a check mark in the ‘termination’ box. Any questions?”
Each tap of that ruler was a psychological slap. Stunned, Becki did not know what to say and simply shook her head. The woman pushed a pen across the desk with her ruler. “Ink, please. A formality. Here you go, now make your choice and let’s be on with it. Either way, it is your decision.”
Finding her voice, Becki croaked out two words in an almost inaudible voice. “‘Disciplinary Action’?” she picked up the pen but her had stopped short of the paper, which had her name typed neatly upon it.
The woman smiled brightly. “‘Disciplinary Action’ I take care of your problem, my way. Once addressed to everyone’s satisfaction, we all move on with a clean slate. You love your job here, do you not… ‘Professor’… Stewart?” Becki nodded quickly. “Then there really isn’t much choice, is there.” It was a question but it did not require an answer. Becki checked the discipline box, signed, and dropped the pen as if it were a poisonous snake. The woman stood up and walked around to the front of the lectern, placing a finger under Becki’s chin, raising her face and looking coldly into her eyes. “Miss Rebecca, where have your manners gone? I am treating you politely and with respect, I certainly expect the same in return. You do understand I can rip this paper up and advise Dr. Lewis that you refused to sign.” Becki shook her head no, and the woman removed her finger.
Rebecca bent over and picked up the pen, collected the paper, and presented it to the woman. “Here, ma’m. Thank you for giving me a choice.”
The woman smiled happily. “My pleasure. Now, if you will please step over here with me.” The woman walked her over to the far side of a lab bench. From here, Becki noted the door ajar with dismay. At least it wasn’t wide open. “Hands on the bench please, straight out in front of you.” Becki placed her hands forward, elbows on the desk, and looked over her shoulders. A happy smile had spread across the woman’s face, and a warm flush of color was upon her cheeks. “Now, no peeking, I want your eyes straight forward.” Becki nodded and focused her eyes upon the water valve in front of her, the cold of the bench beneath her arms, chest and tummy. A cool breeze passed her bottom as she felt her black pants lowered, and she focused harder on the valve as her pants fell to the floor. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt her panties eased down her bottom, then carefully arranged around her lower thighs. “You do understand that for discipline to be effective, it must be carried out on the bare bottom, right?” Becki said nothing; her reward was a sharp slap on the bottom. “Answer me please, quickly, there is no need to make things worse for yourself.”
Becki meekly answered, “Yes, I understand.” And with that, her fate was sealed.
“Very well. I will need you to stay in this position until I tell you we are done. Do you understand?” Becki nodded. “Wonderful, I am glad we understand each other so well.” To Becki’s surprise, the woman walked away and back to the lectern. Was she supposed to simply bend over here with her bottom out as her punishment? Her surprise turned to dismay as she watched the woman withdraw a thin whippy cane from the chalk tray. She stood at the front of the room, testing its flex, as Becki laid there, eyes transfixed, cringing inwardly.
Satisfied, the woman strode back to her place behind Becki and tapped her tentatively. “It’s nothing personal, you see. I have been asked to deal with you, that is all. Now, what is the magic number? How many tests were you supposed to turn in to Dr. Lewis?”
Becki cursed her pride in her large class size. She dully said “Twenty four.”
“So be it. 24 it is. I’d like for you to count please…” and the first THWACK fell.
“One, ma’m…” cried the no longer proud junior professor as her discipline commenced.
============
The door to the Freshman Science Lab had been left ajar, noted Dr. Lewis as he strode down the hall. He paused to listen to the stifled shrieks and gasps emanating from within. Rebecca was taking her punishment well, he could hear. The swish, the thwack, the count, slowly marching the red faced woman to 24. Deciding to have a closer look, he slipped into the lab on the back side, which shared a window with the lab being used. The safety lights went on, lighting the window, and the woman wielding the cane turned slightly to the window, nodded and smiled, then resumed her work…
After a very long pause, the woman asked Becki to repeat the last stroke count. “23 you say? Then we are almost finished with dealing with your lost exam paper. Now then. The last one is always the hardest, dear.” She patted Becki’s bottom for emphasis. “Please hold still for 24…This is for the missing paper…” The cane slashed down, and the woman shrieked and bolted upright, clutching her striped bottom. “24!” she yelled, relieved at having her ordeal ended.
The woman set down her cane and clucked gently. “Not so fast, Miss Rebecca. You didn’t think I’d forget?” The woman was practically giggling as she happily pushed her victim’s shoulders back down upon the cold bench. Reaching under Becki’s tummy into the book cubby below, the woman withdrew a wood spanking paddle and held it in front of her face, patting her hand with it. “There is still this matter of your incessant tattletaling that we need to attend to, is that not correct?” Becki sighed, and nodded. “If you want to tattle like a first grader, then we will deal with that by paddle spanking you like a first grader. You like to tattle a lot, don’t you?” without waiting for an anwer, the woman said, “Well, I like to paddle a lot, too,” and she gave a little laugh that did not sound funny at all.
This was going to be a much longer meeting than Becki had anticipated.
From his position at the window, Professor Lewis noted that Rebecca’s shiny red bottom bounced as delightfully beneath a paddle as it did when she walked. His dark haired lady friend was not at all shy about laying it on, and looked to be enjoying herself fully. Rebecca would be bouncing for quite awhile, it appeared.
======================
In the faculty lounge, the open lab door was the topic of much discussion. A pile of money was on the table in front of the wagering professors. “I bet it’s one of John’s teachers… who wants to bet it is Lisa?” Money flew to the table. The dark haired woman from the chemistry department piped up. “I hope it’s that bubble butt goody two shoes he has working for him, I had her as an undergraduate, she is just asking for it and that new hairdo of hers makes me want to spank her myself.” More money flew to the table as the laughter continued.
“Where’s John? Only he can settle this… unless someone wants to go have a look.” The woman from chemistry stood up and slipped into the windowed lab…
======================
Her ordeal well over, she had been allowed time to compose herself. Becki wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as she was dismissed from her meeting. In a voice that did not ask many questions, the woman called quietly after Becki as she headed for the door, “This room is free at 4 pm Wednesday every week. I will see you here again next week and we can continue your training. Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes, and thank you ma’m,” Becki turned and slipped out the door, practically running in to Dr. Lewis.
With a slight smile on his lips, he stared down at her. “I trust your meeting went well, Rebecca?” he asked the blushing woman standing in front of him.
“Yes sir, it went well enough. Thank you,” she met his eyes, blushed redder, looked down, and scurried off.
John looked up to see his teacher Nick heading into the recently vacated lab. He looked at his watch; it was 5:10. A shame for Nick.
John Lewis headed to his office, closed the door, and retrieved the green envelope. “Leah Murphy” read the exam paper it contained.
It would not do to have a thief on his teaching team. John knew Lisa had stolen the paper to get Rebecca in trouble, then apparently felt remorse and returned it “anonymously”. That was not hard to figure out as she was not clever enough to disguise the handwriting across the flap of the envelope addressing it to “Dr. Lewis”. The 2 young professors also shared a desk in the same office and she would have been the only person to have had access to the shared key. Maybe not for long, but for this week, Lisa had done a good job.
I’ve sprained/jammed/otherwise-injured my wrist. The left one. The SPANKING one.
You’ll forgive my occasional typing error, as I’m currently alternately icing my hand and cursing a lot while typing one-right-hand-fingered .
The truth is, I didn’t injure my wrist. The cats did. Really only one of them, but since I’m in a relative amount of discomfort, I’ve decided to blame them all, as a whole, for the sins of one: Tahoe, the Milk Beggar.
The cats know that I am a total slave to them, and they exercise that knowledge my meowing piteously every time I enter the kitchen for coffee in the morning. They know what the milk carton looks like, they know my routine, and THEY WANT MILK.
Tahoe, in particular, has a long, multi-octave beg sound that could crush the hardest of hearts. She also has a nasty habit of darting between and under my feet in an all out, blatant attempt to take me down, thus having full access to the spilled milk carton while my broken body cools nearby. She’s a bitch like that.
This morning, I was in no mood for pouring kitty milk into multiple shallow containers, microwaving them each for 18seconds to take off the chill, and then watching them for ten minutes to make sure that no spontaneous slapfights would occur…so I ignored their meowing and got on with the business of my second cup of coffee. As soon as I walked toward the refrigerator, Tahoe was underfoot, doing her best impersonation of a cat who wants desperately to be kicked at 8:30 am. Lucky for her, I have a strict moral code about kicking the living hell out of anything other than another human being, so I two-stepped around her toward the counter, saying “No kitty milk today”.
Her response was, verbatim “That’s it, human slave. You had your chance. Now we’re going to do this my way.”
At which point she somehow managed to wrap herself around both my ankles six times in less than half a second, pitching me forward at approximately three hundred miles an hour. I caught myself against the counter with one palm, wrist bent back, and managed to somehow stay upright while still holding the milk carton. There was no pop, no slicing pain, and no visible damage – but the damn thing started swelling immediately and now looks a little like a human hand balloon.
While I’m not certain, I think that this would be considered a Bad Thing. What exactly does a spanker do with a jacked-up spanking hand, hmm? I’d ask Tahoe, but she doesn’t seem to care.
– Dana
Readers,
Here’s part two of Lyndsy’s take on her fictional time with Amy at ‘The Reformatory’. Enjoy!
– Dana
It was a very strange sensation to be so drifted into some sort of space where I didn’t feel overly anxious, and really had no concept of anything outside of my own thoughts. Well, until Amy hollered at me “Are you okay?” It snapped me back to where I was, in this place, my room, my new little buddy and realized now that I had a tender bottom!
Once she knew I was alright, something in her spank brought her to life, and she decided she wanted to go and socialize and that it was a good idea to go to her staff party after all. “Come on Lyndsy, lets go out for a bit. My boss even asked me to bring you too!” So she dragged me there. I knew a few of the people at least. We were standing around, listening to the conversations and the music, realizing neither one of us could sit comfortably. Her boss asked if we wanted a drink, and Amy said, “No thanks.” I guess she liked the feel of her sore bottom!!! Not me!!! I was looking for some relief!! Not only from the tender butt, but because I really was uncomfortable in social situations. I asked if she had JD, and she said, “Sure thing!” “Okay, I will have a double, on the rocks, if that’s not a problem?” “Not at all! Double Jack Daniels coming right up!!” When she brought it, I think it was topped up just a little more than that!! Soon I didn’t feel the tenderness and I enticed Amy down off the deck to the big garage where the music was blasting and ones were dancing. It didn’t take long for us to get into the dancing too, but of course Amy couldn’t dance to any that would make her jump around too hard, and well, I didn’t need to make a scene myself! Then this song by David Guetta came on and she went wild! “Come on Lyndsy!!! This is an awesome song!!” It kind of started slow, and I was wondering why she wanted me to dance to it, not really my style at the moment, so I said “Ah, nooo, that’s okay! Go ahead!” She wouldn’t let it go. I listened to the chorus, ‘I’m bullet proof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away,… and the beat picked up!! I made her suffer until the second chorus and then let her drag me out with the rest! JD was hitting my head by now, so I was past the point of caring anyway. But Amy was just screaming, “You shoot me down! But I won’t fall! I am titanium!!!!!” Over and over again!! I just laughed at her, and when it ended we both went laughing off the floor! I slammed back the rest of my drink and realized it was near midnight. “Hey kiddo, maybe we otta head ‘er home! Don’t need another reason for the DK to smash our ash!” Oh boy… yep!! Time to get going.
We headed out laughing still as we went to the truck. Amy tried to grab the keys from my hand, and I yanked them back. She hollered at me, “Hey, you had a drink, you better let me drive!!” “Oh Amy, I had one drink, take it easy!! We only live a few blocks away! I’m fine!” She looked at me with her adorable little frown, but I guess she didn’t want to argue in front of all her work mates. Plus, she didn’t really know me too well yet. We jumped in the truck and cranked the tunes up. She was still not happy I was driving, but then guess what came on the radio??!!! The Titanium song!!! We both started to laugh again, and of course, she had to start hollering out the chorus again!!!
As we neared the house I turned the music down, but then Amy shut it right off. “We don’t need anyone waking up, better not to take the chance.” “Good idea, but it sure was fun! Just what we needed!”
We controlled ourselves as we went in the house. It’s not that we were not allowed to go out, as long as it wasn’t an unreasonable time and we came back to sleep there, so we were just being responsible and quiet and made our way to the room without incident.
The next day, my backside was still reminding me what happened, even if my mind tried to convince me it didn’t!!! I decided to just stay in bed, because I had told Ms. Kane I don’t do mornings anyway. Having breakfast was not a mandatory thing like she wanted us all to respect having supper together, so she didn’t harp on me too much for being slower in the morning, and then just heading to work. I just pulled the covers up around my neck and curled up in a ball and drifted back to sleep.
I am not sure how long after I had dozed off, but in my sleep I heard a “rat-a-tat-tat”. I slightly opened my eyes, not quite knowing what I heard exactly, and just listened without saying anything. Hmmm, guess I was just dreaming. Then I heard it again, “rat-a-tat-tat”, and after, “Lyndsy, are you awake?” It was Ms. Kane knocking on the door. “Umm, I am now?” “Can I come in?” “Yeah, whatever” I replied, but still had a hard time to keep my eyes open. I heard the door open, then close quietly, and felt her sit on my bed. She didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t open my eyes really yet. Then I felt her looking at me, and I got a whiff of coffee. I stretched, and tried hard to open the eyelids.
“Well, good morning Miss Lyndsy! Are you a sleepy head today?” “Yep.” “I brought you a coffee to help you out. I heard you guys come in last night.” “Oh sorry, we were trying not to wake anyone up.” “No, you were both quiet. I just can’t sleep sound until I know everyone is home safe for the night. What did you guys do?” I stretched again, trying to wake my body up, but rolled onto my stomach because it still hurt too much to lie on my back. My eyes were still heavy. “Ummm, we just went to a staff party” “Oh?” “Well, we weren’t planning on it but, ah, Amy had a burst of energy, so she wanted to go socialize a bit.”
I turned my head towards the wall as I tried to get my eyes to want to open. She rubbed my back, “What did you guys do there? Did you have fun?” I was too numb for all the questions.. besides, I didn’t want her to know I had JD…. So I didn’t answer in hopes she wouldn’t ask anymore. “Lyndsy,” she smacked me on the butt a couple times. “Ouch!” “Still sore? It’s time to start moving, you should get to work soon. Sit up and have your coffee.” There was a pause for a minute. “I asked you if you guys had fun.” “Oh, yeah, yeah we did Ms. Kane, thanks.” I was really trying to consider the fact of getting up, but still didn’t really move, and really didn’t want to seem like I wanted to talk. After a minute she smacked my butt again a little harder, and stood up. “Come on now, get up, you’ve slept in long enough, get dressed and have your coffee.” She put the cup on the dresser and headed back out and downstairs.
Mmmm I could smell it, and it made me want to move to reach it. I fought hard to sit up, and then yeouch! I had to stand up quickly!! Darn it my butt hurt more now than when I got the spank!! That’s it! I went and found my little stash of JD and glugged about two ounces into my coffee. Mmmmm…. Even better now!!
I savoured every sip as I leaned my elbows on my tall dresser and just tipped the cup as necessary to my lips. I had finally started to wake up, and the burning seemed a lot less intense, so I started to get ready for work.
Just then Amy sent me a text, “Hey, u awake yet?”
“Ya – barely – JD is helping”
“What? Ur gonna get caught!”
“Nah, she’s already come n gone”
“When r u leavin?”
“Bout 15 min”
“Ok – text me when u get to work!”
“Yep – Over.”
Me and Amy were at it for the next two days in a row steady texting back and forth. I teased her about her Titanium song she cranked out at the party. We joked about if Ms. Kane was with us partying, what it would be like, and on and on it went. I knew Amy would have a harder time at work to not laugh out loud as she had other people in the office at times, but I could go escape to a room myself and chat with her. Of course, this also carried out into the evenings when we were back together and at the Reformatory.
I never realized that Ms. Kane had the power she did to affect our day to day lives. But by the second day of us goofing off in our own little world of things we joked about, she had enough, and provided us with a phone that, well – I think it was a phone? But if it actually made calls I would be surprised!!! Not only that, that evening she also took our personal smart phones, and my mind tried to wrap around the idea she would be allowed to do that!! Did I dare put up a fuss? I mean, that was my life, my job, my contacts, my privacy, my connection to everything!! I could feel it building up inside on how to handle this situation. I needed backing, knowledge of some kind to present to her would be best, so that I could plead an argument as to why she couldn’t and didn’t have the right to do that!
I was relieved when Amy had to go to the office to see Ms. Kane first again. That would give me time to search up some data, some “legal” explanation, some sort of retaliation as to why I could demand my phone back!!
I ran upstairs to my laptop. I was punching in all kinds of information, but it was either too difficult to put together in short time, or it was just not exactly a situation I could use in this case. I was getting anxious and frustrated as the minutes ticked. Darn it!! I gotta do something!!!
DING!!! The lights went on and JD jumped into my brain!!! If I can’t find data, I will find bravery to plead my case!!!! I went and found my little secret stash and slammed a mouthful. I sat on my bed and took a deep breath. I slammed another one, and realized I better not make it too obvious, so I put it carefully away. I sat there as I tried to calm down, to shut down the anxiety I was feeling, to strengthen my walls so that I wouldn’t crumble when I tried to make a point. To keep her at an emotional distance so that I could maintain my determination to fight for the right of my phone!!
As I began to feel my “bravery” come over me, I was able to gain my composure about this whole situation, and as I did, I heard a voice from the bottom step call me, “Lyndsy, please come down here right now!” A shiver ran up my spine, but I took a second to go in the bathroom and swish some mouthwash around before obeying.
When I went downstairs, Ms. Kane was at her desk with my phone in her hand. There it was. My little life line, being handled by someone other than me!! But as I headed into the room I couldn’t help but notice Amy standing in the corner with her butt as red as it had probably never been before! I gulped as I looked at her, and then Ms. Kane spoke up, “Yes, you take a good look at Amy’s bottom, because yours is going to be redder than that!”
My eyes slowly looked towards her, but not at her, and I still stood only 2 feet into the office door. Then they went to my phone again. She taunted me with it by holding it up, kind of waving it, to show me she had it in her possession, like I didn’t know. “You have quite the fine technical gadget here, don’t you Lyndsy?” I couldn’t talk. Darn, where was that bravery I had hoped for!!! I didn’t want to see her expression, so I kept my eye on the phone. She looked at it, and played with it, and man, she was pushing on buttons and tapping into my information!!! “You are not really allowed to be doing that Ms. Kane.” I don’t know where that came from, but it was there and out in the open! “What do you mean Lyndsy? Come here and sit down please.” I hesitated, and I still wouldn’t look at her. I looked towards Amy as I started to walk and talk, “Its true Ms. Kane, it is rather questionable to go into someone else’s private property.” She didn’t answer right away, so I looked back in her direction. As I did that she stood up. Oh my, what to do, what to do, what to do……
“Ma’am, out of sincere respect, I just need you to realize that that item is full of things that are private due to my work, and I had to make an oath so that I would not discuss the court discussions or names of ones that I do work for.” She started to walk towards me, and I could feel my bravery was on. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you JD!!! NOW I could look at her, but not actually see her. I could block out her eyes and her expressions so that I didn’t have to read them, and just look at the silhouette of her frame as I spoke. As she came closer I continued, “By you reading that information, you are not actually disrespecting me, but tampering with legal issues that could come back on either one of us.” She had stopped 2 feet in front of me. But she was playing this game, where she actually was not saying anything at the moment, so that I had to scramble for words, and I hated that!!! “Ms. Kane, will you please hand me back my phone. I don’t care what you do to me for discipline, but that phone has to be in my possession due to the delicate information it carries.” I don’t’ know where all that was coming from, but it was sounding legit to me!! But darn, I didn’t want to think of what to say next!! She held it up in front of my face, as she powered it off before me.
“Well Lyndsy, do you have anything else to say before I get into my discussion with you?” I just shrugged my shoulders as I lowered my eyes a little. “Good. But you did have a convincing argument. I just wonder where that bit of bravery came from? You are usually more of an observer, unless you are bratting.” I could feel her trying to look into my face, but I turned to look at Amy again. She took my chin in her right hand and turned my face to hers. “Just so you can relax, well, for a moment, I would never tap into something as personal as your work information. I understand that there are things that others can not know. The only thing that I opened or read, are the texts that you and Amy have been sending back and forth the last two days.” Was I relieved? I don’t think so, I believe that was more of a tactical way to get my phone back. And it didn’t seem to be working. “Now, does your work information come through email or texting Lyndsy?” “Email” I replied. “So really, you can get your work information from your laptop, correct?” “Well, yes.” “Then by me taking your phone right now, and locking it in a safe with Amy’s, it really won’t affect your work, is that right?” “Ahhhh” “No, don’t try and think of a reason, just tell me yes or no. Will it affect your work, by me taking your phone right now?” “No”, I replied as my nose scrunched up with insult.
Ms. Kane left me standing there. I watched as she walked over to her closet, heard her opening the safe she had, and locking our phones inside. Darn… Now I just have to handle whatever she is about to deal out. And looking at Amy’s bum, I knew it was not something that was going to be pleasant.
“Miss Lyndsy! Please bring yourself over here to my desk please.” I once again hesitated, I guess as I tried to get a grip on what was ahead. “Now!” I looked over to Amy again and then back at Ms. Kane, and slowly walked towards her desk. She came and stood in front of me again. I didn’t know what to do or how to respond, so I just stood there and looked at my fingers as I started to pick them inflicting my own pain.
“Lyndsy. Do you understand why I have taken your phones away?” she asked. “Well, no, not really. Because we know how to use them to their fullest potential? And it takes up our time?”
“Are you sassing me?” “No. They do absorb a lot of our time because basically, our lives evolve around that source of communication.”
“Come over here Lyndsy.” She walked towards the couch. I just stood and watched again. “Lyndsy!! I said to come here!” I again walked slowly towards her, because really, I was still upset she had control enough to take my phone, and I wanted to argue more about it. But I didn’t really have a bigger come back than the one then I had presented earlier, and I think she knew that. When I stood before her, she knelt down and started to undo my pants. I went to hold them, but got a firm slap across my right arm. Then she dropped them to the floor without saying another word. She sat on the couch, smacked her thigh a couple of times, held up her arms waiting for me to lie over her lap. I didn’t. I stood there frowning, frustrated and fighting it all inside. She still didn’t say a word, but spoke with her eyes, and the way she grabbed my right arm firmly with her right hand, I didn’t have a choice but have my body follow.
As I settled there, she started to speak. “Do you not think that maybe there is a lot of unnecessary time spent on those phones?”
“No. Everything I do on there is necessary ma’am.” SMACK.
“Are you telling me that the texting that goes on between you and Amy ALL day long, is something necessary?”
“Well, I would have to say yes to that.” SMACK. SMACK. I tightened up my buttocks.
“And why is it necessary that you two talk throughout the whole day?”
“Because, we need to. We need to discuss things that go on. We need to share stuff about our day, or what was said, or heard, or seen. Ohhhhh, I don’t know. But it is necessary! I need to communicate with her!” And then there was a multitude of smacks applied to both cheeks.
When she stopped she continued, “Do you realize the time you are taking away from focusing on your jobs by the chit chat the two of you carry on during work hours? Hours that you are getting paid for to do a job for someone?”
“Ummmmm. Not to be disrespectful, but that doesn’t actually apply to me ma’am.” SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. “But… but its true!!” I paused. She said nothing. I continued, “I only get paid for what I type! Not for my time!” Darn again no response. I hated my back to her, “So really, ummm…you are wrong about that.” She didn’t say a word, but yanked down my underwear, and applied another set. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
“Okay. So, what about the TIME you are using to chat. Are you keeping up with your work?”
“Ahhhh….” Again a heapful of spanks landed on my backside and I tensed up more as each one came down. When she stopped, she paused, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t dare to reply! I was WEEKS behind on work because my time was being used up to develop the relationship that I so needed from Amy!!!
“You didn’t answer me Lyndsy!!”
“Umm, no Ms. Kane.”
“No? You are not keeping up to your work? Is that what you meant?”
“That’s what you asked wasn’t it?” No words, just an impact of spanking that got faster and harder as she altered from one cheek to the other.
“Breath Lyndsy!” I tried to take a deep breathe, but I couldn’t, so she paused, “Take a deep breath.” I finally got one almost to the pit of my stomach, but not quite. She continued her spanking without hesitation.
When she stopped, she spoke again. “So, you are behind on your work, mostly due to the communication you are having throughout the whole working day while you and Amy are separate, putting you both at risk with your jobs, and you are still wondering why I have taken your phones away?”
“Ahh, I guess I understand ma’am, when you put it that way.”
“Good!!” And she continued spanking for another hundred rounds… Well, maybe it wasn’t, but it felt like it went on forever. Then she said, “Now, stand up Lyndsy.”
I stood up, and went to pull up my underwear, but this time I heard, “No!! We are not done Missy! Take them right off, and go lean over my desk” was what she said as she walked towards her desk.
“What? Why? Because me and Amy text each other? Is not taking our phones enough punishment? Never mind the physical one I just got??” Ms. Kane turned around and stopped. She just looked at me, and my “walls” went up so I couldn’t see her face or expression. Yet, she would think I was looking right at her. I didn’t dare focus on her face!!!
She walked right back up to me and with 6 inches between our noses she said, “You find your way over to my desk, place your hands on it, and I will be right back!!” I just looked at her, I didn’t want to say anything with her that close in case she smelled I had slammed some JD earlier. “Do … you … under… stand … me? I nodded my head instead. She turned me around, smacked my butt and gave me a shove. “Go! We have something else to deal with.” And with that she left the room.
My brain went into overload trying to think of what she meant. I glanced over at Amy. Poor girl had to listen to all of this. I continued over to the desk. Then I heard Amy speak up in an undertone, so I turned to look towards her, “Lyndsy. Be careful. Don’t sass back anymore. She found our texting about you and……”
Just then Ms. Kane walked back in the room, “Amy!!!! Be quiet!! Or you will be in for more!”
Darn it! Amy didn’t get to finish her sentence!! I was still twisting so that I could look at Amy, and her eyes told me this was bad. I just wasn’t quite sure what it was. She squished her eyes tight, and I knew she was sending me a hug, and going to be thinking of me.
“Amy, turn yourself around and face the wall. I am not finished with Lyndsy, as you very well know.” She was now sitting in her desk chair, right in front of me at eye level. “Amy was correct. There IS something that I found in your texting with her that is of concern to me Lyndsy. I have come to realize you have been hanging around with some ‘bad association’ rather often.” I just looked at her, puzzled. I haven’t hung around with anyone lately? All my time was absorbed between me and Amy. I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. She must have seen my confusion, because she reached down to the floor and pulled up the container I had hid my JD in and placed it on the desk in front of me!!!! My stomach seized up, and my breath stopped. My eyes froze on the container, until I heard, “What would this be Lyndsy?”
Do I dare play stupid? Oh man, that wouldn’t work. She obviously knows from the texts. I looked towards her. “Ummm. That might be some left over beverage I couldn’t finish awhile back?”
“Is that a question?” I didn’t reply, I just looked at the container. “And when would be the last time you might have opened this container?” Again, I couldn’t tell her!!! “Speak up! And don’t you dare lie to me!” I looked towards her, trying to lose the silhouette figure and see what her eyes might be saying, to figure out if she knew I had some just previous to this!! I couldn’t tell. My fear of knowing was stronger!!! She stood up now, and picked the belt up off the desk. She came around to the side I was on, and leaned over the desk beside me. She then looked at me, and told me to look at her. Darn!!! This is too close for comfort!! I took a deep breath, and held it as I looked her way. She just stayed there, trying to hold my eye contact as I tried to hold my breath!!! Darn her and her games!!!! I don’t know what colour my face got to, but I gave in before she did, and lowered my head to the desk as I let out the air. She stood up and faced towards Amy. “I guess I have my answer, don’t I Lyndsy?”
“I didn’t say anything?”
“You didn’t have to! Your breath speaks for itself!! Did you actually have some of that before coming in here?” I could feel her at my back, but not looking at me. She had this habit of looking straight ahead when she would talk sometimes. Then I felt a blow with the belt as it contacted my buttocks. A shiver went curling up my spine, and made me cough!
“Damn!” I said aloud.
“I expect your answer to be ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and that is all.” Another two blows of that belt. I still didn’t answer. And another 4 landed smartly across both cheeks at the same time. I cringed, and lowered my head closer to the desk. She waited about 30 seconds, and then about 10 were applied, even harder than the last ones!!
“Okay!!! Okay!!! Yes!!! I did have a sip before I came down here!!!” She plastered another 10 or so, but fast and furious. “Damn, that’s enough already!!” I yelled as I stood up and turned around with a firm frown on my face. I figured I was dead for that! And I did see more of an irritated look on her face, but she always stayed pretty cool.
“Listen to me. I will decide when it is enough!” She was maintaining eye contact, and I never lost the frown. “And you, young lady, have broken one of the major rules that I fully warned you about the day you arrived! Absolutely no alcohol under my roof!!! Now, wipe that look off your face, turn around, and bend over that desk!!!”
I couldn’t help but sneer, and let out a huge sigh. She then took action upon herself, turned me around, pushed me down on the desk, wrapped her right arm around my waist, and walloped me I don’t know how many times!! I was just thankful that I DID have JD!! Because it was surely helping with the pain of this situation!!!
She stood up, went around to the other side of the desk, put the belt in the drawer and sat in her chair across from me. “Lyndsy, look at me now.” I didn’t want to look her way, I was frustrated with her at the moment. But, I slowly brought my head up to do what she asked. “Do you know one of the reasons I do not want you to have alcohol in this house?” I just looked at her, with no response. “You do realize that you are here because of your misuse of alcohol, don’t you?”
“Misuse in whose terms?” I asked.
“Are you being smart with me?”
“No!! I have never had a problem with it, or got myself into trouble because of having it, well, up until THIS moment.”
“Are you not using alcohol as one of your coping methods, and being careless with it, or reckless sometimes? Like driving after having drinks?” Hmmm I couldn’t argue that. But I was never careless or reckless! That would mean spilling it or wasting it! And to me THAT is alcohol abuse!!!
“Well, yeah. I have on occasion.”
“You are here to learn new coping skills Lyndsy, and I am here to help you with that. And one of the ones we will be getting rid of is your turning to alcohol. Why would you even consider having it when you were already in trouble for the misuse of your phones? Are you just trying to push me harder?”
“No. I was nervous!! And I was frustrated you took my phone, and so I went to find information on why you were legally not allowed to do that, and when it got overwhelming, I had a mouthful, hoping it would at least give me some confidence to argue my thoughts.”
“Well, a mouthful could be a few ounces!! Do you think it was that much?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe a little more than an ounce.”
“And did you just have the one mouthful?” I lowered my head, I was caught anyway, so I just said, “No, I had two.”
She stood up again, came around the side I was on, stood me up, and said, “I am here to help you not to do that Lyndsy. To not feel like you have the need to use alcohol in that way. I am here for you to express your frustrations, or when you feel overwhelmed, so we can work on it together, verbally. I want you to use more healthy coping options. Do NOT ever let me catch you with alcohol in this house again!!!! Do you hear me?”
“Yes, I got it.”
“Okay” She was quiet for awhile as I could feel her looking at me. “I believe you.”
Ms. Kane paused for a moment again, and I looked at her for the first time, without the silhouette covering. I could see she was sincere, and she was really trying, and obviously allowing her thoughts to come together. “I want you to stand in that corner over there for the next ten minutes and really think about this Lyndsy. And think about the opportunity you have here. I am pretty sure that Amy over there will support you the same way you are supporting her. There is a reason why I put the two of you in the same room.”
I looked over to Amy and Ms. Kane was right. I had never met anyone like her before. This was maybe the opportunity, an opportunity to finally become the person I was striving for. The person I needed to explore and needed to let go and let grow. Amy spoke directly with that girl buried inside of me. And even though I loved it, I feared it at the same time. That is why I still needed JD in reach………
Readers,
I’ve hinted at it a couple times in the past, but here’s the paddler’s honest truth:
I am a tightwad. Or a minimalist. You choose.
It does not thrill me to spend money on things which I do not find essential. (Granted, ‘essential’ means something different to everyone.)
Is there such a thing as a reverse hoarder?
Anyone who’s visited my home knows that I have little attachment to possessions. Furniture is scant and I don’t bother with draperies and bric-a-brac much. I’ve grudgingly added a few things to the household in the past year or so, mostly to increase visitor’s comfort, as it all seems a bit unnecessary to me. There still isn’t a television, and I cannot foresee a future that involves my owning one. I did, however, break down and purchase an iced tea maker so that my repeated attempts at passively burning down the house by forgetting that I had water boiling downstairs would come to an end. Usually though, spending is kept to a minimum and most frivolous fits of spend-thriftiness happen at the supermarket.
But this year will be the Year of the Moderately-Priced Purchase. Sigh. It’s difficult for me to discuss, but I know you’ll understand. (insert tongue into cheek here)
It took nearly one calendar year for me to pony up the dough to invest in the member site for danakanespanks.com, and I’m still choking a bit on the residual costs associated with it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terribly excited and happy, but part of me wants to grab my wallet and run screaming in the opposite direction.
And just this week, I purchased a much-needed and long-postponed upgraded camcorder for video shoots. I knew it needed to be done, so I put on my Consumer Face and just did it. It was painful but fast, like yanking off a bandaid. Ouch.
It’s old news that my ancient Mac has been a faithful, if hypochondriacal, friend. Later this year it will give over it’s main functions to a new computer and while I’ll be tickled with the superfast processor and better overall performance, it’s not nostalgia which keeps me clicking away at this very tired machine. It’s ticket shock. I’ve dragged this old Mac wheezing and whirring through a few years more than even Mr. Jobs intended, and am certain that the old girl has another six months or so left in her.
It’s also been several years since I owned or needed a car of my own. I know that this sounds somewhat unbelievable to most of the car-driving public, but it is supremely possible to function, thrive, and be happy – without ever having to visit a gas station. The majority of the world’s population live within….oh, there I go lecturing again. Besides, I’ve been thinking of buying an old clunker, despite my better judgment, in order to more easily access the beautiful mountains, abundant state parks, and that place down the street that sells really good tacos. The problem is that I’ve been thinking about it for about a year now, and will likely continue to think about it well into the future. When it comes right down to it, I’m always inclined to slap the salesperson – hard – when they tell me the price. It’s a lovely, healthy stroll to any number of easily-accessible points of necessity, and a cheap taxi ride to the airport a couple times a month. Decisions, decisions.
I really do completely understand the compulsion to spend. If it weren’t for the restraint of gods-long-forgotten I would have standing reservations at no less than thirteen hidden island resorts in the steamiest latitudes imaginable. My ‘places I’ve been’ map would look like a pincushion and the wall behind it would eventually crumble from the weight of the brightly-colored reminders.
Instead, I spend most of the year saving (and salivating) for the Chosen Destination. This year’s place to lie around and do nothing is about as removed as one can be while still having access to hot water and ice cubes, and saving my pennies for it makes it even more special.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that, at the end of the day, life is expensive. Whether you spend it on toys or bonds or solitude, you’re gonna spend it. So in light of that realization I’ve decided to loosen up and do what I have to do this year.
But next year? I’m not spending a dime.
– Dana
Readers,
It looks like any day now that the tech guys will have the member site finished. Once I learn to navigate the software and manage all the content upload, the site will go ‘live’ so that the payment processors and powers that be may poke around in the site and make sure that it’s acceptable before I’m allowed to actually sell memberships. This process will likely take anywhere from two to four weeks, by the look of things.
If you’re visiting HERE and notice a change in format, it’s likely that the site’s gone ‘live’ and I’m in the pre-launch phase. There’ll be a slight interruption to premium video updates during this time, and previous ‘DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update’ blog posts will no longer redirect to the old version of the site.
If all this sounds like a bit of a pain, it is. I’ll post something here when the site is ready to accept members, and will be interested to see what you think of the new member site. I’ve tried to keep it pretty simple, and am hoping that the novelty of a female top site will appeal. Things like ‘Meet the Models’ and Custom Video request forms will still be available in the non-members section of the site, and I’m thinking of adding a forum/group chat feature at some point in the future.
(Of course, this blog will remain in it’s current incarnation, barring a few cosmetic changes.
All current videos will still be available on Clips4Sale.com and SpankingLibrary.com, and new releases will be there, too, after a period of time exclusive on the member site.)
I’m grateful to Alan at adultwebexperts.com for his work on the website, and am looking forward to seeing the final build-out this week.
– Dana
Readers,
Warning: This may get a bit silly.
Since none of us could be truthful in saying that our minds are ever blank when we’re spanking (or being spanked), I’d like to know what you’re thinking about during.
Our minds wander, it’s true. And it’s also completely natural that sometimes we’re doing one thing while thinking of another, wholly unrelated, thing. With that understood, where do you wander during play? Are you thinking two steps ahead of your playmate, or are you composing your shopping list, or is there that song that just won’t stop playing inside your head?
Most of the time, I am wrapped up in the feel, sound, and all-round sensory experience of the spanking, but occasionally, well, something happens…
I can’t control it, and have no idea when or where it will present itself…
but once in a while, as I am happily smacking away at some naughty boy or girl across my lap,
one song pops up from the deepest depths of my subconscious.
I cannot help but time my smacks to the insistent beat of the music running through my hands.
It’s a classic, and I know you all know it.
So sing (or spank) along with me, now…
Discipline Files : Kelley May
A very tongue-in-cheek Tips for Tops video: ‘That’s a Wrap!’…
Enjoy!
– Dana
Readers,
For your spanking-enthusiast-related activities, do you enjoy a little slap and tickle…or just the slap?
I know that circumstances surrounding spanking play can vary drastically from experience to experience, and that our playmates are not necessarily our bedmates – but what do we really prefer?
For me, spanking is not an outright sexually-motivated activity. Sensual, yes. Intimate, definitely. But not sexual. Spanking does not, for me, cause an unrelenting urge to insert tab A into slot B.
What it does cause is a wave of adrenaline and endorphins which takes hours to subside. Heady, powerful; still not sexual. The physical act of touching, rubbing, caressing, and yes, even slapping, another person’s nude bottom is one of the most pleasurable sensations imaginable to me, yet all that pleasure still doesn’t equal coitus in my mind.
Similarly, when perusing spanking videos I find that I am most often attracted to scenes which don’t incorporate heavily sexual situations. Peeks are great and innuendo is titillating; make-out scenes can be hot; but I usually am not interested in seeing the spankee and spanker get it on before, during, or after the spanking takes place. Don’t misinterpret this as an aversion to porn – I, like most everyone else, have a healthy interest in pornography, but for some reason am much less interested in having it incorporated into spanking films.
It’s likely that I am in the minority on this subject, so I am very interested in what others think: how do sex and spanking go together for you?
Click the Title links above for more preview photos, scene descriptions, and download links, or visit Readers,
This is a sexy switch story from our friend The Cowboy Writer. While, in it’s original form, it’s more than a little saucy, I’ve chosen to prudishly edit out the heavy sex stuff (as usual) and allow you to all use your imaginations there…asterisks are my edits.
Enjoy!
– Dana
Tyra leaned closer to the mirror to put the final touches to her
makeup.
She batted her stunning green eyes, powdered her cute little impish
nose and applied a final touch of gloss to her full lips.
Practicing her classic, seductive smile , her perfect teeth still
glistened from their latest expensive whitening treatment.
Opting for a casual look, she tied up her long, blonde hair in a
ponytail and stepped back to take a full-length view.
Her slender , tanned legs were accentuated by the tight, white jean
shorts she had squeezed into and Tyra smiled with satisfaction when
she spun around and took in the rear view.
She loved the way her firm, round cheeks looked encased in her new
shorts.
Her black tank top offered a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage and
tiny waist.
A few wisps of expensive perfume in the right places and Tyra was
ready for her evening out.
The excited voice of Tyra’s 10-year-old daughter Cassandra caught
her ear.
“Hurry up Mom.Coach Todd wants us to be at practice 10 minutes
early” .
Tyra felt a schoolgirl thrill in the pit of her tummy at the mere
mention of Cassandra’s handsome soccer coach Todd Marley’s name.
Despite being twice divorced at only 43 years old Tyra was not going
to pass up the prospect of landing the desirable Todd.
He was the town’s most eligible bachelor, tall, confident, athletic
and the owner of a flourishing Accounting firm.
Bachelor Todd’s niece Brandy was in the team and he had volunteered
to coach the team when nobody else would .
A lifelong athlete and soccer player, Todd gladly obliged and was
really enjoying his assignment, especially when he met some of the
attractive soccer Mom’s.
He did have a reputation as something of a Casanova and was quite
skilled having managed to remain single to the ripe age of 41.
As Cassandra hustled her Mom and her soccer bag into the van, a few
doors down her neighbor Janet Whelan was already packed for practice
and waiting for her daughter Emily to emerge from the house.
“Come on Emily Ö.we’re late!” Janet called out impatiently glancing
at her watch.
Janet was the Gym Teacher at the local school and also owned her own
fitness business.
Her looks were a stark contrast to Tyra.
Tall , toned and athletic, she kept her dark hair short and her big
brown eyes, high cheekbones ,full lips and long elegant neck gave
her natural beauty which required no make-up.
Janet looked good in anything but for soccer she chose a team t-
shirt which hugged the curves of her firm torso, skin tight track
pants cut at the knee, running shoes and a baseball cap.
Like Tyra, single Mom Janet was much more interested in coach Todd
than the soccer practice.
******************************************************************
Todd cut a fine figure in his red coach jersey and matching shorts.
His soccer socks were rolled down to his ankles , displaying his
powerful calf muscles and he impressed everyone with his athleticism
and fully participating in all the drills he put his young charges
through.
All the girls loved him, as did all of their Moms as they sat on the
sidelines drinking in every view of Todd’s tanned, muscular ,
athletic frame.
Tyra and Janet had not been overlooked by Todd and he responded to
their discrete flirting by flashing a smile and a wink at them at
every opportunity.
When Todd blew his whistle for a water break both Tyra and Janet
grasped the opportunity to get closer to him.
The more athletic and appropriately dressed Janet got of the mark
faster, bounding toward Todd as Tyra struggled to free herself from
her fold out chair without disturbing her appearance.
“Have a drink honeyÖ.I’ll be right back ” Janet told Emily as she
stuffed a water bottle in her hand and continued her run to Todd’s
side.
Janet stuck out a hand “Hi Coach MarleyÖ. I’m JanetÖEmily’s MomÖ
number 7?” she said nervously.
Tyra sighed as she saw Janet already talking to Todd as she prepared
to approach him.
“Darn you JanetÖ” she muttered under her breath and marched over to
the pair anyway.
Todd smiled at Janet and shook her hand.
“Emily is quite the little defender Mrs. Whelan” Todd replied.
Janet’s heart pounded and her mouth went dry as she pondered a
response.
The normally confident woman felt as giddy as a teenager in front of
this handsome beau.
Her dating skills were becoming quite rusty.
“Its Miss actually ÖÖ.but please call me Janet .
I’m a trained gym teacher and personal trainer and would be glad to
help you with the teamÖÖif you likeÖ.of courseÖ” she said nervously.
Janet wanted to kick herself for sounding so dumb and her
embarrassment was compounded as Tyra arrived to eavesdrop.
She chuckled and gave Janet a wry smile as she listened to her
rival’s faltering approach.
Todd’s eye immediately caught the flirting Tyra and he smiled back
at her.
“I’ll just be a minute Tyra ” he chirped and looked back at Janet.
“That would be great Janet. Why don’t you give me a call and we can
get together and chat about how you can help.”
Janet felt victorious and fired a challenging glance over at Tyra
who was trying hard to conceal her jealousy.
Todd could not help take in the sight of Janet’s swaying hips and
firm derriere as they chewed against her sleek spandex pants.
His lusty gaze did not go unnoticed to Tyra but she was not that
concerned.
She was a lifelong tease and had no trouble capturing the attention
of any man.
With a flutter of her eyes, a tilt of her head and a soft hand on
Todd’s arm Tyra quickly gained his full attention.
“Hi Todd Ö.did you enjoy your day at my spa?” Tyra purred.
Tyra had emerged from her two failed marriages with quite a
financial windfall and had recently invested in opening a spa.
She had asked Todd for some business advice and offered him to spend
a day at he spa for helping her.
“Yes TyraÖ it was great. So great I think I’ll go back ñ this time
as a paying customer!
How are you doing with that new accounting program?” Todd replied.
Tyra pouted and batted her long lashes “Not very well I’m afraid
that’s why I came to ask you a favorÖ. ” she said in a sultry tone.
Todd was eating out of her hands now and when Tyra asked if he could
come to her house to help with her accounting he just couldn’t say
no.
“WellÖ.sureÖwhy not. I’ll zip home for a quick shower after practice
and be there around 8ish?” he replied.
Tyra smiled and made sure to give Todd an ample view of her
delectable, jean clad bottom as she scurried away.
Todd continued the practice and Tyra and Janet stood uncomfortably
together until the usual group of players and drooling soccer moms
around Todd had drifted away.
“So I’ll see you 8ish Todd?” Tyra waved to him in a clear attempt to
make Janet and most of the other ladies green with envy.
Todd looked up from his clipboard and confirmed with a wave.
Janet edged closer to Todd.
“Could I ask you to help me with a non-soccer issue Todd?” she asked.
She went on to tell Todd about her personal fitness business and
asked him if he could help her with her accounting.
Todd laughed.
“It seems all you ladies are accounting challenged.
Actually I’m helping Tyra with the same problem with her spa tonight
so how about I stop by your place around 9-9:30 and see what the
problem is?”
Surprised at Todd’s quick response Janet agreed although she was a
bit disappointed on the short notice as Emily would be home.
Just then, Janet’s ship arrived when Emily called to her from the
van.
“Come on MomÖI’ve got a sleepover at Brittany’s tonight Ö.don’t you
remember?”
For a moment Janet had the urge to leap up and punch the air but she
was able to restrain her reaction to a muted “YESSSSS!” to herself.
******************************************************************
“Bye Cassandra. I’ll pick you up at 10am sharp tomorrow!” Tyra
called out as she watched her daughter climb into the van to go to
her sleepover.
A few moments before the same scene had played out at Janet’s house
as Emily hopped into the same van.
Both Tyra and Janet wasted no time in readying themselves for their
dream dates with the hunky Todd.
Tyra decided to stay with her chosen outfit, betting that her tight
white jean shorts were already a hit with Todd.
Janet was undecided however.
She knew she looked good in those spandex tracks but thought she
should give Todd a different glimpse of her.
As she soaked in the tub she thought about the best outfit and
decided on a short, summer dress which showed off her firm physique
while keeping that feminine touch.
Todd was in for quite an evening Ö.
If Todd already had an inkling that Tyra had other reasons for
inviting him to her house other than accounting problems it became
clear as he entered her house.
Soft music played in the background, the lights were dimmed and
scented candles were everywhere.
“Have a seat and I’ll fetch my laptop ” Tyra cooed, ushering Todd
over to the table where a bottle of wine and two glasses sat waiting.
Tyra fired up the computer and began pouring the wine without even
asking Todd.
“TyraÖ.I don’t usually drink when I’m workingÖ.” He said.
Tyra just giggled, ” Oh ToddÖthis can hardly be called work can it?”
Meanwhile a few doors down Janet was cursing as she tried to set up
and install the accounting program on her computer.
She had told Todd a `little white lie’ that she was having problems
with it but she had not even taken it out of the box!
She took a gulp of wine.
“How hard could it be?'” she told herself, glancing at her watch.
Back at Tyra’s, Todd was becoming a little frustrated at her poor
attempts at producing a simple invoice.
“I find it hard to believe you’re having so much trouble with this
Tyra Ö.you’d better not be doing this on purpose.” he warned her as
he set up yet another template for her.
The wine bottle was almost empty now and Todd’s one glass was still
half full.
“And what if I was?” Tyra teased him taking another sip of wine and
putting her hand on his lap close to his crotch.
Todd took her hand and placed it on the table.
“Then I would have to put you over my knee and give you a good
spanking!” he informed her.
Tyra felt a surge of excitement pulse through her veins and a
tingling sensation in her bottom.
Todd’s response surprised her but also excited her.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she challenged him , her eyes lighting up.
Since he had seen Tyra at soccer practice that evening, Todd had
wished for nothing else than to find a way to get Tyra’s sumptuous
bottom out of those tight little shorts and now he had the
opportunity to do just that !
A mischievous Tyra stood up and made a spirited but half-hearted
attempt to escape from Todd’s grasp.
He did not have to pursue her for long and caught her wrist before
she made it to the living room.
Grabbing her other wrist he easily pulled her to him and returned
her to the dining area.
Tyra struggled to free herself as Todd pulled out a chair and sat
down.
“OOOOH NOOOO!” she squeaked as Todd tipped her effortlessly, face
first over his awaiting lap.
“NooooooÖ. what are you doing ToddÖ..dooooon’t!” Tyra squealed ,
feigning outrage as she felt Todd’s fingers slip under her tummy and
undo the snap on her shorts.
Todd laughed as the petite Tyra kicked and flailed helplessly when
he then slid down her zipper.
“Taking these shorts down so I can spank you properly !” Todd
informed her.
“OMIGOSH!!” Tyra gushed as she felt Todd’s fingers pull on the
waistband of her jeans.
She could only lie there helplessly as she felt them slide over her
hips, the curves of her bottom and then down her thighs.
She wore only a white thong underneath and felt a cool breeze on her
bare skin as her shorts reached half-mast.
Todd took in the wondrous sight before him.
Two of the most beautiful, tanned, jiggling globes he had ever laid
eyes on lay there before him.
For a second his mind wandered to things other than spanking but he
snapped himself back to reality and placed a palm on Tyra’s bottom.
Seductively he caressed her entire bottom as Tyra cooed in delight.
Between each caress he introduced a playful smack which generated a
yelp of surprise from Tyra.
Steadily he picked up the speed and intensity of the spanks bringing
a nice pink hue to the blonde’s cheeks.
Tyra squirmed and moaned on Todd’s lap as he briskly spanked her
quivering cheeks.
As the heat in her bottom intensified Tyra began grinding
rhythmically into Todd’s groin.
She could feel *** beneath her which made her even hotter
as she gasped with delight.
Having turned her bottom a bright red Todd began spanking harder and
methodically, landing stinging smacks to Tyra’s sensitive sit spot.
She cried and yelped as they landed and began bucking and squirming
to avoid his punishing palm.
“OH GAAAHD THAT BURNS!” Tyra bawled as the spanking started to take
its toll on her tender skin.
Todd paused again to caress Tyra’s bottom giving her a temporary
soothing relief.
Her skin was so soft and smooth and very hot to his touch and once
again his mind wandered.
Refocusing again he took a firm grip on the waistband of Tyra’s
skimpy white thong.
“No ..noÖ.please don’t Todd !” Tyra protested.
Todd wondered why she was so outraged.
Her cheeks were already fully exposed to his view but the lowering
of her last line of defense added to her indignity ñ and gave Tyra
another thrill of excitement as Todd peeled her little undies off.
Todd moved the spanking to its finale, paddling Tyra’s defenseless
bottom briskly as she squealed and kicked her tiny feet.
With a final flurry of short, sharp spanks he concluded Tyra’s
comprehensive bottom warming.
They were both out of breath when Todd released his grip and stood
Tyra on her feet.
Instinctively he pulled her into his arms and she nestled her head
on his strong chest as they embraced.
Tyra grimaced as she rubbed her molten hot bottom to relieve the
sting.
“Oooooh that really burns..” she moaned.
It was also fueling a fire elsewhere as she kicked off her shorts
and undies and ***
*****
Tyra ripped Todd’s shirt over his head and began undoing his jeans
as he unceremoniously yanked her top off allowing her pert breasts
to spill out before him.
Todd frantically helped Tyra remove his jeans and underwear as their
lips met again.
*****
*****
Somehow the table survived the test and Todd and Tyra lay quietly on
top of it, catching their breath.
“WOW!” Tyra exclaimed and Todd nodded agreement.
Tyra snuggled closer to Todd “Stay the night ToddÖpleeeease?” she
purred.
Todd glanced at the clock.
“GeezÖ.its 9.30Ö.I promised Janet I’d stop by her place to help her
with her bookkeeping!” Todd announced.
Tyra sprang up.
“You WHAAAT ?
You haven’t made a date with that bitch have you?” Tyra yelled.
Todd put a finger to her lips to silence her.
“I promised her TyraÖthere’ll be other nights.” he told her firmly
and hopped off the table and started to dress.
Tyra slid of the table also and winced at she inspected her red
bottom.
Todd laughed ” A good helping of Aloe Vera will cool that down ” he
advised planting a peck on her forehead.
Tyra stamped her tiny foot angrily.
“I was hoping you would do that!” she fumed.
“Gotta go!” Todd replied as he tucked in his shirt and was gone out
the door before Tyra could reply.
**************************************************************
Janet’s heart sank as she looked at the clock.
“DAMMITÖI should have known once that little minx Tyra got her claws
in Todd he wouldn’t be coming to see me!” she fumed.
At least the time had been well spent setting up her accounting
program but Janet’s real interest was Todd.
Just then the doorbell rang and Janet’s heart pounded when she saw
it was Todd.
“Is it too late?” Todd asked meekly.
Janet smiled and beckoned him inside.
Unlike Tyra, Janet’s attempt at seducing Todd was more subtle.
There were no candles , music or wine but he had never seen the
usually dressed down Mom look so good.
He admired how her sundress hugged her firm figure and how it
displayed her exposed and well-toned arms and legs.
It did not take Todd long to conclude that Janet had not dressed
this way to practice accounting but he played along.
Pointing to her computer in the corner of the room Janet sighed in
feigned exasperation.
“I’m so glad you’re here Todd, I’ve been pulling my hair out with
this accounting program for weeks” she said in her best `maiden in
distress’ voice.
Todd sat at the computer and started working as Janet hovered over
him.
Occasionally she made a point of brushing against him and Todd’s
mind soon strayed from accounting as he breathed in her scent and
admired her statuesque form.
Janet was almost a contrast to the diminutive blonde Tyra.
She was tall, athletic and had a bold confidence about her.
Her legs were long and toned and flowed into what were clearly `buns
of steel’.
He longed to get his hands on that voluptuous rear.
It was then Todd spotted the discarded packaging from the accounting
program in the trashcan beside the desk and immediately went into
the log of the program.
“HmmmmÖinteresting.” he murmured, folding his arms and spinning
around in his chair to face Janet.
Todd looked at her the same way she looked at her pupils at school
when they did something wrong.
She gulped and her heart pounded.
“So you’ve been using this for weeks have you Janet ?”
Janet’s face flushed.
She hated lying and it showed.
“ErÖumÖyesÖyes of course I have ToddÖ” she stammered.
There was a pause as Todd pondered her reply.
“That’s oddÖbecause according to the log the program was only
installed a couple of hours ago and if I’m not mistaken that would
be the packaging over there ” he declared.
Caught red-handed Janet had no reply except for a girlish giggle.
Todd pretended he was not amused.
“Janet Whelan, you only started using this program tonight and I
think you were using it as an excuse for you and I to be alone.” he
lectured , wagging a finger at her.
Bowing her head Janet could only nod agreement.
Todd stood up, took Janet’s hand in his and raised her chin gently
so they were eye to eye.
“That was very naughty of you Miss Whelan and I’m afraid I’m going
to have to give you a good spanking !” Todd announced.
Janet’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as saucers as she
absorbed Todd’s words.
“A spanking ? Now ToddÖ.pleaseÖ. I was justÖ.EEEEEK!” she squealed
as Todd leaned on the desk and quickly turned her over his
outstretched knee.
Compared to Tyra, Janet was more of a challenge to keep in place as
she genuinely struggled to free herself from Todd’s grip.
She was certainly strong from all those hours in the gym but Todd
was more than a match for her and despite her attempts he was able
to hold her in place.
“Todd ! No ! NoÖ.don’t you dare !” Janet yelled as she felt Todd’
fingers slip under the hem of her dress .
The material slowly slid up her thighs, over her hips and finally
bunched up at her waist.
Todd admired another glorious sight before him.
Janet’s buttocks were firm, tanned and muscular and on full display
as, like Tyra, she wore only a tiny thong underneath.
Janet’s bottom tensed as she felt Todd’s palm caress and massage her
skin.
She could not suppress a moan of joy “OH GAHD THAT FEELS SOOOO
GOOD!”
“OW!” Janet’s eyes and mouth opened wide as the first firm spank
landed on her right buttock.
As it started to sting she yelped again as Todd’s palm connected
firmly with her opposite cheek.
Todd could feel that Janet really did have buns of steel so began
spanking harder ñ much harder than the spanking he had applied to
the more soft and tender rump of Tyra.
Although it really stung and her bottom was smarting Janet was up to
the challenge and even teased Todd , looking up at him and saying
through gritted teeth “Is that the best you can do ?”
Todd shook his head, paused, raised his hand and brought it down
with resounding force on Janet’s stubborn rump.
It sounded like a gunshot and Janet howled upon impact.
“How was that?” he responded to Janet who was still wincing from the
stinging swat.
“WhÖwhat are you doing ? STOPPIT !” Janet yelled as Todd peeled off
her thong.
Her bottom completely bare , Todd continued delivering volleys of
spanks of the same velocity until Janet’s bottom was a flaming red
and she was squirming and bucking on his lap.
Janet exhaled forcefully.
Her bottom was on fire!
“OK OK I’m sorry Todd!” Janet wailed as Todd continued to spank her
briskly on her tender sit spot ..
Her bottom was well and truly tenderized now so he didn’t have to
spank Janet so hard.
So after a final flurry of spanks which had Janet yelping like a
puppy he stood her up and she immediately danced around the room,
furiously trying to douse the fire in her rear.
Todd chuckled at her antics before taking her by the wrist and
spinning her into his arms.
Their lips locked in a long, lingering kiss as Janet melted in
Todd’s arms.
She was conquered and she loved it!
*****
*****
Although the time was short , the sheer physical effort had
exhausted both of these athletes and Todd lay prone on top of Janet
as she remained over the desk.
When they stood up Todd took Janet in his arms and kissed her again.
“I want more” she pleaded to him.
Todd hugged her tightly.
“Sorry Janet I have to goÖ.it wouldn’t look right Ö” Todd explained.
Janet sighed as she watched Todd restore his jeans.
“Better get some Aloe Vera for that” he chuckled pointing to Janet’s
fiery red bottom.
Janet winced as she restored her dress over her sore bottom and
watched Todd leave.
******************************************************************
Tyra groaned sleepily as she was awakened by the sound of the
telephone.
Stretching an arm out she dragged the headset to her ear.
`MomÖits 10 amÖ.you should be here !” Cassandra lectured.
Suddenly awakened Tyra sat up on the bed.
“AIOOW!” she yelped as her still tender rear took her full weight .
“OOOOHÖ.I’ll be there in a few minutes honeyÖ.” She grimaced ,
raising herself up to her knees.
Hoisting her short nightie Tyra inspected her bottom in the mirror.
The sting had mostly dissipated but her skin was still tender and
pinkish and she could see the vague outline of Todd’s palm where it
had landed repeatedly.
It was only when she pulled on her nylon briefs that she realized
how tender the area was.
Luckily it was a short drive to pick up Cassandra but she still
found herself shifting and squirming in her seat .
As she waited in the car for Cassandra , Janet and Emily emerged
from the house.
“I can give you guys a ride .” Tyra chirped as they approached.
In reality she was anxious to get information on Todd’s visit.
Janet forced a smile ” No thanks Tyra the walk will be good for both
of us” she replied.
Tyra noticed Janet was walking a little stiffly .
“Did you hurt yourself ? You look like your limpingÖ” Tyra inquired.
Janet blushed and shook her head.
“I think she did hurt herself Mrs. Connor Öshe was too sore to sit
down at Brittany’s for a coffee !” Emily piped up.
Tyra raised a curious eyebrow as Janet’s blush deepened.
“ErÖits an old basketball injuryÖlets go honey..” Janet babbled and
hustled Emily along.
Todd was in fine form , whistling as he strode into Tyra’s spa for a
massage.
Tyra’s eyes lit up at the unexpected visit.
“Told you I’d be a paying customer Tyra ñ your best massage please
Ma’am” he joked.
Tyra frowned “I’m afraid my masseur is not here todayÖ.will I do?”
Todd grinned and pulled Tyra into his arms and kissed her.
“You look like a mad scientist ñ but a real cute one !” Todd
observed as he lay on the massage table with only a tiny towel
covering his muscular hindquarters.
Tyra was wearing a short white lab coat , and had a pair of thick
framed glasses perched on her cute little nose.
Her long blonde hair was pinned up revealing a most beautiful face.
Smiling mischieviously she seductively slid down the zipper of the
lab coat , letting it drop to the floor .
She stood before Todd , hands on hips wearing only glasses and a
pair of heels.
Todd gulped and was rendered speechless momentarily.
Tyra’s hips swayed as she moved closer to Todd.
Turning , she showed him her bottom which still bore the marks of
the spanking he had given her.
Pouting her lips she tantalizing rubbed the area.
“You really spanked me hard last night” she purred.
Todd beckoned her closer.
“Let me kiss it better” he replied hungrily.
Tyra obliged bringing her bottom closer and Todd began planting soft
kisses all over her derrrierre.
Tyra turned to face him an started to massage his strong back.
Her hands soon drifted down to the towel draped over his bottom.
Slowly she eased it off and squeezed Todd’s buttocks with her hands
making him flinch.
“Hey ..easy there !” Todd complained.
Tyra’s response was to deliver a playful but firm slap to his rump.
“OUCH!” he cried , surprised by the sting.
Tyra clamped her left hand down on the small of Todd’s back.
“This is for leaving me to go see Janet last night. I just saw her
and you didn’t go there for her accounting ñ did you ?” she said
angrily.
With that she started spanking Todd’s rump fast and furious and as
hard as she could.
His position on the massage table made it difficult for Todd to
avoid the unexpected paddling as Tyra whaled away at him.
Her palm may have been tiny but it was having an effect.
The sight of Todd’s skin reddening inspired Tyra to continue until
his cheeks were really red.
Finally out of breath Tyra stopped spanking.
Todd put a palm back to sooth his burning rear.
“AAAW Geez Tyra that hurt !” he whined as he rubbed.
Tyra leaned closer to him ” There’s lots more where that came from
if you ever try that again!” she told him through gritted teeth.
“YEOOW!” Todd yelped as Tyra delivered a final solid whack to his
backside.
Tyra studied her palm which was red and burned .
If her palm hurt that much she could just imagine what Todd’s bottom
felt like.
She blew on her palm like a gunslinger would do with with his gun.
“There will be no charge for this session Mr.Marley !” she grinned
as she departed.
**************************************************
Todd’s rear was still smarting when he arrived at Janet’s personal
training centre.
“Hi JanetÖis now a good time to talk about how you can help with the
team ?” he asked.
Janet was pleased to see her handsome beau.
“Sure Ö.have seat ” she replied pulling out a chair.
Todd put a hand to his stinging rear.
“No thanks I’ll just stand for a while” he said.
Janet put a hand on her spandex clad bottom.
“That’s fine with meÖsitting is a bit of a problem for me this
morning after thatÖ.wellÖlast night ” she blushed.
Todd grinned ” Yes ..well sorry I got there late and had to leaveÖ”
he said.
Janet raised an eyebrow and challenged Todd.
“You did seem to take a lot of time at Tyra’s just to do some
invoicesÖor was it just invoicing you were doing over there?” she
asked.
Todd blushed and tried painfully to explain.
“WellÖerÖ.we did have some wine and chatÖand erÖstuff..” Todd
coughed nervously.
Janet was gaining in confidence as Todd’s drained.
“Öand stuff ?” she said.
Janet took a ping pong paddle from a nearby shelf and advanced
towards a retreating Todd.
“So I was your little dessert after Tyra was I Todd ?” she seethed .
Todd tried vainly to add some humor.
“If we’re playing table tennis I’ll need a paddle too Janet.” He
stammered.
Janet patted the paddle against her palm.
“For this game I’ll be doing ALL the paddling and your bare butt
will be the ball!”she declared .
Todd was stunned and taken by surprise by Janet’s confident stance.
She stood before him , paddle in hand , looking like an Amazon
warrior.
“YEOOW!” Todd yelled as Janet took him roughly by the ear and
wheeled him into her office and closed the door.
“Jeans down and bend over the desk” Janet ordered.
Rubbing his ear Todd tried pleading with Janet.
“Now JanetÖ I know what I did was wrong butÖ.” He began but Janet
stopped him.
“I said jeans down and bend over the desk mister” she repeated.
Resigned to his fate , Todd sighed and began undoing his belt.
“Those too” Janet ordered pointing to Todd’s tight black briefs.
Todd’s shoulders slumped and he slid down his briefs and assumed the
position.
“Well , well it appears you’ve been warmed up already !” Janet said
as she hoisted Todd’s shirt and observed his backside , red from the
whacking Tyra had administered.
“Hold on tight ñ you’re in for 20 of the best !” Janet announced.
Taking a step back Janet wound up and cracked the paddle against
Todd’s bare buttocks.
It sounded like a gunshot and Todd cried out loudly.
Slowly and methodically Janet delivered a full 20 blistering swats
to Todd’s backside as he remained bent over the desk.
Todd gritted his teeth and held on to the desk , struggling to stay
in position and maintain some composure as the paddle scorched his
rear-quarters.
After the final stinging swat landed he sprang up clutching his
cheeks with both palms .
Janet came up to him , put her arms around him and pressed her lips
against his.
Todd pulled her close to him and winced as Janet dug her fingers
into the tender hot skin of his buttocks while they kissed
passionately.
Janet looked deep into Todd’s eyes and wagged a finger at him.
“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that with me ever again !” she said
firmly.
“Ö..nowÖ.lets talk about the team shall we?”
*******************************************************************
Todd strolled home , his backside still smoldering inside his jeans
from the double paddling he had received from Tyra and Janet.
He had clearly underestimated the resolve of these two soccer moms
and had deservedly suffered their wrath.
With all the scores even , Tyra and Janet were both anxious for a
second rendezvous with Todd and saw the team party that weekend as
the perfect opportunity to win it.
It was the soccer team pool party at Todd’s place and both ladies
had volunteered to chaperone while Todd barbequed.
Tyra eyed her extensive collection of swimsuits for the occasion and
settled on a tiny black bikini.
Not to be outdone, Janet had gone swimsuit shopping also and after
much deliberation about styles selected an eye-catching outfit.
There was definite tension in the air when the two rivals arrived at
Todd’s house to help set up for the party.
Luckily there were a few other Moms and Dads present which at leased
served to keep them apart.
It did not stop either of them from taking every opportunity to make
each other jealous by flirting with Todd.
It was soon time for Tyra and Janet to play their trump card and go
for a swim with Todd in the pool.
Both of them were convinced that once he saw them in their carefully
selected, skimpy, swimsuit his heart would be theirs.
They glared at each other angrily as they peeled off their shorts
and tops.
“Hey what are the chances of that happening !” Todd cackled as Tyra
and Janet joined him at the pool.
The two ladies were aghast to see that they were wearing identical
bikinis !
The rest of the parents found it funny also and laughed out loud and
the Dad’s attending were most impressed.
Tyra and Janet looked wonderful but the laughter only served to
fester the simmering feud even more.
The pair competed hard for Todd’s affections as they all frolicked
in the pool and stayed there as one by one the parents and kids left
for home.
Even Cassandra and Emily were growing embarrassed by their Mothers’
pursuit of their coach.
“Can we go now Mom?” they whined in unison.
“I’ll take these two for an ice cream if you like and you can pick
them up at my place ” one of the remaining parents offered on their
way out.
Of course Tyra and Janet gratefully agreed and were left alone in
the pool with Todd.
The trio retreated to sunbath on the deck and Todd offered to get
them all some drinks.
While the ladies were intent on one of them winning over Todd for
the evening, Todd’s goal was to have every man’s dream come trueñ a
threesome !
His opportunity arrived when he returned with the drinks and found
Tyra and Janet in a heated argument.
Before he could put down the drinks Tyra slapped Janet’s face and
Janet retaliated by grabbing Tyra’s bikini top and pulling it clean
off.
Her eyes filled with fury Tyra returned the favor and reached for
Janet’s top.
The stronger Janet was able to hold her off but they both fell in
the pool and continued their struggle.
Todd dived into the pool and quickly separated the two flailing,
topless females and yanked them out of the pool.
He tossed them each a towel as they spat out water and tried to
cover their nakedness.
Todd was genuinely furious but sensed an opportunity.
“Both of you ñ inside ñ NOW!” he seethed.
Like naughty schoolgirls the feuding soccer moms trundled inside
with Todd close behind.
Todd had them stand by the sofa while he went to the kitchen,
returning with a large wooden spoon.
The ladies’ jaws dropped as reality sunk in.
“Get those bikini bottoms off and bend over the back of the sofa!”
Todd ordered.
For a moment Tyra and Janet mumbled a protest but their words
trailed off and they both wiggled their hips out of their wet bikini
bottoms.
The ladies made an attempt to cover their vanity with their hands
but Todd was showing no sympathy for their plight and motioned them
to bend over the sofa.
Todd took in the sight of these two shapely, bare, glistening
bottoms presented to him.
While he had seen them before he could not resist pausing to compare
their beauty.
Tyra’s bottom was smaller, round and soft and with more curves while
Janet’s was firm and muscular but still very feminine.
Taking his position beside them Todd tapped the spoon against their
bottoms as a warning for what was to come.
In unison the two ladies closed their eyes, gripped onto the sofa
and tensed their bottoms.
In no time Todd had the spoon dancing all over the four globes,
peppering them with short, sharp, stinging whacks in rapid
succession.
The fact that the spoon was being applied to wet skin made it smart
even more and Tyra and Janet were soon making quite a racket as
their bottoms were well and truly warmed wth the punishing spoon.
When both their bottoms were a fiery crimson Todd paused to smooth
his palm over them.
It felt good and the women moaned and sighed but soon began
shrieking loudly as the spoon resumed its dance harder and faster
before finishing in a cracking crescendo.
Tyra and Janet remained prone over the sofa when it ended, slowly
allowing their palms to sooth the damaged area.
“OK you two ñ you can get up now!” Todd said firmly.
Too sore to worry about their nakedness both Tyra and Janet needed
both hands to rub their bottoms as Todd lectured them on their
childishness.
“Get up stairs and lie down on the bed and I’ll get some Aloe Vera
for those naughty bottoms!” Todd suggested with a grin.
Tyra and Janet smiled, looked at each other and headed for the
bedroom upstairs.
Todd picked up the tube of Aloe Vera as he watched the two jiggling,
red bottoms scurry upstairs.
********************************************************
When he reached the bedroom door Todd peered in to see Tyra and
Janet lying together , naked on the bed, their bottoms in the air
awaiting his arrival.
Todd’s fantasy was about to come true he thought.
He stepped out of his swim trunks and his ***.
Aloe Vera in hand , his eyes feasted on the sight before him and he
sat on the edge of the bed.
Tyra and Janet groaned and giggled like schoolgirls as Todd
seductively applied the cooling ointment to their hot cheeks ,
allowing his fingers to wander , linger , explore and tease them.
“Oooooo,,,,that feels soooo good Todd..” Tyra sighed , glancing at
Janet.
Janet smiled and looked up at Todd.
“Why don’t you lie down on the bed Todd and let us take care of
you ” she suggested.
Todd needed no encouragement and the girls stepped off the bed and
signaled him to lie face down to await their pleasure.
For a moment Todd heard some rummaging in the closet behind him.
“What are you two looking for ?” he asked innocently.
With the speed of a panther Janet leapt onto the bed and sat on
Todd’s back , straddling him and pinning his arms down with her
strong legs as she faced his feet.
“You go first Tyra !” she hollered excitedly.
Forcing his head around Todd saw Tyra looking very determined and
holding a thick , leather belt she had taken from his closet.
She doubled it over and slapped it against her palm.
“You men never learn do you Todd ?
Did you really think you were a getting a threesome that easily?”
she teased.
“All you’re getting from us is an ass blistering mister !” Janet
yelled excitedly.
Todd tried frantically to free himself but there was no way Janet
would let him move from his vunerable position.
“Tyra Ö.JanetÖ.pleaseÖÖ..let me upÖ..AAAAARRRRGGHÖ.”Todd howled as
Tyra lashed the leather belt across his backside.
***********************************************
Todd was a strong , powerful with a tough hide and a fierce male
pride and he never thought that these two soccer moms could have him
bawling like baby.
But they had done just that.
Like a tag team they took turns holding him down and walloping his
rear with the belt.
He was totally humbled now as he joined Tyra and Janet on the patio
for a long overdue talk.
Despite clear warnings he was determined not to choose between these
two attractive women and his male ego had driven him to scheme so he
could have them both.
Teaming up to administer that well deserved strapping had bonded
Tyra and Janet.
They could even laugh about their identical swimsuits as they sat
under the sun umbrella while Todd served them up some ice tea.
To add to his humiliation the ladies shared with each other the
spankings they had given him only a few days earlier.
“That’s why his rump was so red Ö.I figured it was you Tyra !” Janet
cackled.
Tyra was bent over laughing loudly.
Their bottoms still tingled from the effects of the wooden spoon
earlier but they were able to sit fairly comfortably on the soft ,
thick chair cushions .
The same could not be said for Todd .
It would be a few days before he was able to sit down comfortably on
anything !
“I’d like to apologise to both of you for being such a cad ” Todd
said holding up a glass for a toast.
“To honesty and fair play !” he declared.
“I’ll drink to that!” the ladies chimed and clinked their glasses.
Glenmore112
While there are many other, more pressing matters at hand, I’m back at fiddling with spanking photos and the ‘comic book’ look. Here’s the latest, from ‘Late for Dinner’:
I spend a lot of time reading; magazines, online news sites, spanking blogs, hundreds of pages pulled up from general searches on anything from the history of Angkor Wat to how to make gluten free sourdough bread starter.
Books though, have always been my respite. If hard-pressed for new reading materials, I’ll re-read a favorite book (or series of them) dozens of times throughout the years, loving every minute of the knowledge of exactly what happens next. If there is anything about which I am obsessive, books qualify. It’s a high-quality problem.
Many years spent shifting from one foot to the other and back again, staring myself teary-eyed at the shelves in thrift stores, used bookshops, and discount bookstores, have taught me that it’s worth the dough to buy books I want to read (well-written) rather than books which fit within my tightwad criteria (cheap).
So for the last several years, I’ve given myself over to the abandon of stores and sites like Barnes and Noble and Amazon – with literally hundreds of thousands of titles available, delivered to my door thankyouverymuch – to sate my constant book cravings.
It’s always been this way.
At the end of first grade, my teacher presented me with the award for most books read during the school year – thirty-one: a photocopied ‘Certificate of Achievement’ and hardback copy of The Story of Helen Keller. I still have them both. Sentimental value and all.
I can remember sneaking my dad’s copy of ‘It’ by Stephen King (yes, Stephen King. There was also a Dean Koontz phase, as well as an Anne Rice one.) when I was around fourteen or fifteen years old and having to stay up all night long because the book scared me so much that I was afraid to go to bed. I’ve always had an active imagination, and have always been able to completely immerse myself in an enjoyable story. That one was just scary; I’ll never forget that damn clown and his shiny teeth.
I can also remember sneaking the romance novels off my grandmother’s bookshelf and squirreling them away for later perusal. I’d seen the shirtless Native American man on the cover holding tight to the pale-skinned-yet-busty maiden and was pretty sure that there was something going on there. Sadly, I found them completely disinteresting. Around that time, I also tried to read the copy of ‘Dianetics’ gathering dust on the hall bookshelves. Happily, I found this completely disinteresting as well.
In the last twenty years, I’ve read hundreds, likely thousands, of books. Beautiful, whimsical things by Tolkien, Terry Pratchett, and Neil Gaiman, and breathless memoirs by Mary Karr, Augusten Burroughs (and nearly every other soul-searching life’s self-examination written); numerous accounts of the second World War and countless stories of the survivors of life in general; American, British, and Russian literature; historical biographies of the people who’ve fought for freedoms throughout our evolution, and many many many silly, shallow, and satisfying works of modern fiction.
Several months ago a dear friend gifted me with something I would have never purchased for myself – a Kindle e-reader. It’s the basic, I-only-want-to-read-a-book model, and I honestly didn’t want to like it. Books – real paper books – have always been so appealing. Pretty bindings, freshly-printed pages, hundreds of turns pulling you forward into the story..
Then this ereader thing comes along. I’ve now read every single available free literature classic, uncountable other free books, magazines, and publications…and purchased several ebooks. As much as I love a good book, this thing is super-convenient.
Until I drop it in the bathtub, that is.
Historically, every really good book I own will end up in the bathtub at least once. It’s a rite of passage and proof of a book’s long standing when the pages are so crinkled with multiple droppings and air-dryings that it takes up twice as much space on the shelf.
Currently, I’m devouring every single novel by Christopher Moore (‘Lamb’, ‘Sacre Blue’), who writes insanely funny novels (recommended by a dear friend and playmate), and planning a second stab at The Brothers Karamazov soon (the first one ended with my considering making a list of all the character’s names, nicknames, and pronunciations on a separate pad in order to figure out what the hell was going on). Curiosity will prevail, even over Slavic surnames.
Want to relax, expand your consciousness, intelligence, and world view? Read a book. Read a hundred of ’em. Then tell me which ones are your favorites.
There are so many intelligent, opinionated, and creative folks reading, posting, and contributing here… What do you read?
– Dana
“Oops”, said one of the girls as her powdered treat fell to floor in the very same spot where Susie had just finished picking up her cupcake from. Both girls laughed. The second girl stepped on it, grinding it into the carpet as Susie looked on stupefied as the white crumbs became crushed into the lush carpet. “Oops” said the other one before they left the room giggling. She couldn’t remember which one it was but would later find out it was the one named Lindsay. Their laughter could be heard echoing down the corridor.
Okay spanking writers, let’s get those springtime creative juices flowing! It’s time for March’s ‘Person, Place, and Thing’ spanking story writing contest. As always, the winner (announced first of April) will receive a free spanking ‘prize’ from me, and all entries will be posted on the blog throughout the month of April for your reading enjoyment.
This month’s contest is:
Within your spanking story, all three elements must appear – the Person (or, in this case, two people), the Place, and the Thing:
Send all entries to me at: DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com (You may either attach your story as a text file, or paste it directly into your email’s text box.)
‘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
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:
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!!!
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
For more preview photos, scene descriptions, and download links, click the Title links above, or visit:
HERE
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
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.”
‘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
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?
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
And…?
We have an agreement about that, don’t we?
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
You’ll see.
Pants off mister…underpants too.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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
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..
(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
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
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!!!”
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
For more preview photos, scene description, and download links, click the Title link above or visit:
HERE.
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
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
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:
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…
Readers,
The recent posting where I asked what other ‘Conversations with Spankos’ you’d like to have garnered quite a bit of feedback, and we’ll be talking about several new subjects in coming months.
This one, about “Alpha Submissives” derives from a recent conversation with a new playmate. He brought up the subject of the Alpha submissive, a term which I hadn’t heard of previously(…but instantly made me think of Erica Scott!) I told him that I’m sure there are many people out there who identify as bottoms or submissives who have very strong personalities, even within the context of play (still thinking of Erica here).
I think that the actual conversation here is whether, and to what extent, a bottom/submissive can, should, and will assert him or herself into the dynamics of a consensual adult BDSM encounter.
Below, quoted from my playmate – a definition of sorts, and some points he’s interested in talking about:
“An alpha submissive is a rare breed among submissive women. Alpha submissives are freakishly smart, strong and capable which makes dominating them a treasured experience.”
Discussion questions:
Do alpha submissives exist?
Is the concept limited to women?
Loading…
Congratulations to my sweet friend Alex Reynolds! Her blog, Alex in Spankingland, won the award for 2012 Best Creative Blog over at The Spanking Spot.
Alex writes honestly and with a lot of humor about her spanking journeys, and shares lots of fun/sexy/spanking photos, too. She really is as sweet as she looks!
Another lovely lady spanko, blogger and friend is Heather Green. Heather’s blog, The Grammatically Challenged Musings of Heather Green, is still brand new, but she’s already posted several great spanking photos and some interesting personal accounts, too.
I want to draw a bit of attention to the fact that Pandora Blake and her crew at Dreams of Spanking are producing some excellent-looking M/m spanking films, with some particularly attractive boys.
And speaking of M/m – well, all genres, really – this blog lists spanking video updates for ALL genres, all together. It’s new, but I like it already.
Finally, I needed a strong yet pretty spencer-type paddle, so I asked my friends at Caneiac what they could come up with. Meet ‘Dana’s Inferno’:
Brand New Ass : Lacey
Readers,
After more than a dozen posts under the umbrella of ‘Conversations with Spankos’, I’m interested to see what you’re interested in this year. What haven’t we covered thus far that’s of interest to your spanko mind?
In the past couple years, we’ve discussed things like safe words, gender preferences, boundaries, and bratting. We’ve touched on the subjects of ageplay, ‘outing’, and whether or not the stature of your top is relevant. Some things silly, some things serious, but all things we’ve all likely talked (or thought) about at least once.
I have some ideas for the upcoming year and ‘Conversations with Spankos’ (including a post on non-corporal punishments which I’m looking forward to, and another on the differences between discipline and punishment), but I always want to know what else you want to talk about. On what other things, big or small, in the world of spanking can we share our thoughts with one another?
Talk to me, spanko people. What do you want to talk about?
– Dana
 |
Readers,
I don’t usually blog about things like this…
and I rarely covet…
but these pantyhose are sizzling!
Registration completed and hotel suite booked, I’ll be attending Boardwalk Badness weekend in Atlantic City – April 18-21.
On Saturday, I’ll be taking part in the Bad Boys Punished event, with a whole bunch of other willing and able female spankers. I’m also looking forward to the other fun events held, about which I’ve heard so much.
It’ll be nice to see some of my friends, and meet many of the folks with whom I’ve communicated online – and I’ll also make time to see a few of my favorite playmates who’ll also be in town for the party.
Oh, and Angel will be accompanying me to the festivities – her first spanking get-together!
I’m not usually one to click photos of every little thing, but I’ll take some snapshots while we’re there to share with you. So many spankos in one place merits a little camera time.
* For my playmates: Just like always, all appointments for this trip are to be made in advance. I won’t be doing the ‘floor-pick-up-play’ thing at the party, so plan ahead, please, and email me now.
…and if we’ve played before, and you’re going to be in attendance, come right on up and say hi. Most of you know by now that I’m not a party wiz, and I’ll be a bit out of my element. If I don’t immediately recognize you – show me your backside…that oughta do it.
– Dana
Having received 199 responses thus far, here are the current results of the ‘Is Spanking Your Secret’ survey:
* About 60% of respondents say they’re a ‘lone spanko’, versus 40% who say that they have one or more spanking partners.
* 43% of respondents say that their spouse knows about their spanking interest, with 28% saying that they’ve told their friends. 39% say they’ve told no one.
* 32% of people responding to the survey said that the people who they’d shared their spanking interest with were curious and accepting. Only 3% said ‘they freaked out’ when told.
* A surprising 19% of respondents say they’ve been “outed”, without their consent. Wow.
* When asked about online activity, 40% called themselves lurkers or newbies, 27% somewhat active, and 25% social networking wizards.
* A full 57% of respondents said that there are, indeed, spanking implements in their homes – they’re just discreetly hidden. 9% admit to having theirs right out in the open.
* The spanking-goes-mainstream question has, thus far, shown the goodwill and optimism of the spanko community, as 53% believe that, with a little awareness, people will understand us more. (Please note that this was, by far, the most tongue-in-cheek option offered by your survey author.)
This one is a lot of fun – thanks to everyone who’s participated!
If you haven’t yet, click on the link in this post, or at the top of the blog.
Let’s start the year off right – with a new spanking story contest!
In honor of the new year, I’ve decided to put a new spin on the usual Person, Place, and Thing format – this month’s contest is:
Tell me a story (and give it a title, please) about what you captured on film…a spanking between partners you saw from your window, or a couple in a public place who thought they weren’t being watched. Maybe even something in which you participated…while the camera was rolling. Be creative!
Of course, your spanking story is meant to be fictional. Don’t go out and voyeur your neighbors in hopes of a better storyline.
Guidelines – Read Carefully:
As is customary, the Winner will take his or her ‘Prize’ in the form of a spanking from me, in any of the cities which I visit (or Las Vegas, of course). If you’re not able to claim the ‘Prize’, please enter as a non-contestant, so that the Winner may actually claim said ‘Prize’.
Good Luck!
– Dana
Readers,
I’m sure that you’re all just as interested as I am in what these ladies have been up to, and they’re not going to disappoint! Enjoy part five of ‘The Reformatory’!
– Dana
Loading…
I’ll post this new survey to the top tabs as well, so that new visitors will have the chance to acces it easily. Once we’ve gotten a fair number of replies, I’ll post the answers here.
– Dana
This is how glamourous my life is sometimes:
It’s been nearly two years since I started traveling quite a lot, and given the frequency of my air/train/taxi travel, they’ve been a relatively uneventful couple of years, transit-wise.
Until Wednesday.
The alarm rang very early just outside of Washington D.C., and two cups of coffee later I was nearly awake and ready to head for the airport.
Per my usual routine, I called down to the hotel’s reception desk and asked the front desk clerk to call for a taxi 20 minutes in advance. Usually, by the time I’ve made a final round through the suite (and almost always found something that I did, in fact, leave behind), turned out all the lights, and stumbled my way to the lobby, the taxi’s there.
Wednesday morning it took forty-five minutes for the taxi to arrive. After three calls from the front desk clerk. And the hotel is only a stone’s throw from the airport. I knew it was going to be a trying day of travel.
Arriving at Dulles airport, I found exactly what I’d expected – dozens of commuter flyers standing in line at nearly every airline desk. Usually, I fly Southwest – I like ’em, they’re inexpensive (relatively speaking), and they let me check two bags for free. But Southwest doesn’t fly everywhere all the time, so this day I was booked on a flight with ‘Airline X’. The line for Airline X was just as long as all the rest, and I had no choice but to add myself to the queue. After about five minutes of stand-time, a smiling lady asked me if I had my boarding pass. I said no. She told me that I had to go to a kiosk and print out my own boarding pass, then go and get back at the end of the line.
Sigh. (Southwest A-plus preferred customer access service gets me right to the front of the line, by the way, and prints my boarding passes for me. *Last Southwest plug, I promise*) This little series of maneuvers set me back another twenty minutes and six or eight spots in line.
You cannot conceive of how many hours I’ve spent standing in those snaking little lines constructed of silver poles and seat belts. Like the world’s slowest conga line, people never stand so close together as they do when they’re forced into these little lines. I am not ever happy about my personal space limitations during these line-standing periods. But I’m digressing…
After finally making it to the front of the line, the lady inspects my documents and accepts my bag, points me in the direction of the security area.
Thank goodness! – another long line. I was becoming nostalgic for the last one already.
As a frequent traveler, I ‘know how to do it’. I know how many little bins I need, never have anything in my pockets, and always put my laptop in a separate tray. I do not carry gels or aerosols. Forgive me this, but most everyone else seems to do it wrong. Every. Single. Time. On the rare occasion that I see someone unlacing his or her shoes while still three paces from the bin-stack, I know I’m watching another TSA pro. Wednesday held no such pros. The line moved excruciatingly slowly, and I admit to having to hold back the urge to shout at strangers (not for the last time that day).
Hurdle crossed, I re-laced my sneakers and proceeded to the departures screen. (“Never, ever trust your boarding pass” should be one of the ten commandments of airline travel.) Having confirmed my terminal and gate number, I proceeded to grab my usual beverage and healthy-breakfast-option-if-available and took a seat at the gate, thirty minutes before scheduled boarding time, 5:30 a.m.. Not too shabby.
The flight from Dulles to LaGuardia was short and bumpy. Oh, I didn’t mention the layover? Yeah. Layover. Moving on.
Once again, I checked the departures screen, found my gate, and found my way there. Ebook reader in hand, I tucked in for the hour-and-twenty-minute wait for boarding.
Then they announced a delay. Thirty minutes. No big deal.
Then the gate changed.
Twenty minutes later, they announced a second delay. Thirty more minutes. Still, no biggie.
Then, I swear on everything good and gentle, they changed the gate AGAIN.
Less than twenty minutes after that, they announced another delay. An hour. I’m now two hours behind schedule, and still at the airport. I start scrambling to rearrange my day’s schedule to accomodate the new arrival time in Pittsburgh (my final destination).
Near supposed-boarding time, there was an absolute glut of people around the gate door. The service desk line was twelve-deep and dozens of tired, irritated, late commuters were all standing way too close together. I was in the dead damn center of this mess when a young woman barreled her way through toward the front, shoving and being generally rude in the process. I don’t think she was feeling the vibe of the crowd.
You know what happens next, right? (No I didn’t give her a spanking, get your minds out of the gutter.)
This silly girl came back through, aggressive posture and zero manners, and tried to shove right past me..making my shoulder bag swing to the side.
So I elbowed her in the ribs. Hard. (Life is a contact sport, girlie, remember that.) The woman next to me took a step to the right and blocked her path in that way, too.
Yes, we had discussed this in advance. Women are dangerous like that.
Then they cancelled the flight.
I was beginning to feel a little like Tom Hanks’ character in that Terminal movie, perpetually walking past the same pretzel shop for weeks, months, maybe years on end. And I can’t even eat the damn pretzels.
We cancelled travelers were informed that the next flight was scheduled for 3pm, and that, as it was full, we would be 31 stand-by’s for the flight. The flight after that was at 5pm, effectively rendering my day absolutely void.
There was no way that I was going to make it to Pittsburgh.
I’ll spare you the detail on the arguments that took place with two Airline X representatives, and one floor supervisor, and with the first two telephone representatives. I will, however, credit Jason, Airline X telephone supervisor, who had the good sense, decency, and business acumen to issue me a return ticket to Las Vegas.
Via Detroit. But who’s counting.
So Pittsburgh, it wasn’t for a lack of trying that I missed you. And you’ll be happy to hear that I’m going to brave the freezing temps of January to make it up to you. (Ask anyone who knows…sacrificing my warmish-weather climes in winter is an act of love.)
One day. Twenty hours. Four airports. Absolutely nothing accomplished. And they still haven’t found my suitcase.
Next.
– Dana
Readers,
I do, indeed, have some big plans for 2013. While time seems to be harder to come by of late, I’m determined to manage things more efficiently so that I have the time to do all the fun things on my list.
We’ve discussed the possibility of a ‘Video Q&A’, where questions submitted in advance would be read and replied-to via video, kind of like a POV. This still sounds like a lot of fun to me, so I’ll be working on it during the first part of the year.
I’ve also done some poking around in my interest in ebook publishing. While I still have it on my list, and am hoping to accomplish something with it throughout the course of the year, it’s a much larger and more time-consuming endeavor than I’d first anticipated. Just the formatting alone sounds nightmarish. That said, I’m still interested in opinions/preferences on content/theme for something of this nature.
There will still be lots of free video made. It has been a little while since I’ve done any Product Testing or Tips for Tops videos, and I’ll be working to fix that oversight soon. Angel and The VBB continue to get themselves into constant trouble, so they’ll naturally pop up here in video punishment glory from time to time. Nearly all the free videos are available on the Gallery Page.
On the premium video side of things, DanaKaneSpanks.com will continue to be the place to look for access to all my downloadable videos and DVD’s. While many of my videos will always feature My Bottom’s bottom – who is never long wanting for an excuse for discipline – you’ll also be seeing many new faces, especially in the F/F genre. (At the very bottom of the danakanespanks.com screen, you can enter your email address for new video updates.)
And the contests will continue!!
January will bring a new spanking story writing contest, and I’m interested to see what our participants do with this one.
As the photo contests have not garnered as much participation as I’d hoped, you’re all being disciplined by having them taken away – for a while.
If you have an idea/suggestion for a fun contest for our spanko participants, please do let me know – I’m always looking for fun ways to give things away.
Imaginative spanking story writers are always encouraged to share their work with us, and I’m always happy to receive your works…contest or no. Send your creativity to me at DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com.
On social networking: I’ve taken down both my Facebook and Flickr account pages. There’s only so much real socializing a person can do, so I’m economizing. I still have an account on Twitter, and on FetLife, and a Tumblr page for photos (which may or may not survive the purge).
There have been a couple emails concerning the font/shadowing on RSS feed emails. I am aware that there is a formatting problem between the chosen text colors on the blog, and the default emails received. While I haven’t yet figured out quite how to remedy this…well, I’m working on it.
Did I miss anything?
– Dana
Readers,
A couple weeks after a fun round of spanking and conversation with one of my wonderful playmates, I received an email from him, following up on our previous conversation.
We discussed that the era in which many of us were reared – one of acceptable, permissible, and even advisable corporal punishment – is coming to an end. Most public and private schools no longer employ the ‘three licks’ method of discipline, and many states and countries have outlawed the practice altogether. Also, many caregivers now choose other, less physical ways of teaching, like TimeOuts.
My friend and I wondered whether, by removing the experience, either direct or remote, of corporal punishment from early development would render the world spanko-less one day….or at least spanko-light. And whether the natural changes of lifestyles and environments would put a different ‘spin’, so to speak, on spanking play.
This is neither pro nor con early corporal punishment, and not meant to be a discussion of early-life experiences. Instead, I am curious whether, when taken out of the environment altogether, spanking would still become a distraction, and in such numbers as in previous generations.
And, if the spanking fetish does still thrive, will the fantasies be contextually the same? Here, I’m addressing specifically the seemingly very common thread which runs throughout the current, mature spanko population – conservative, traditional domestic scenarios. Current generations haven’t grown up on the same Sears&Roebuck catalog fantasies as their predecessors – they’ve cut their teeth on Victoria’s Secret and Brazilian bikinis, after all.
What do you think? Will the new generation of spankos be hard-wired in the same way as we? And how will the natural changes in the world around us change the process and execution of the fetish?
– Dana
coming soon.
Also, Auntie Dana’s Naughty Nieces, Parts 1 and 2, are now available for download.
Part 3 coming tomorrow, 12/17!
Fellow spankos,
I am planning to attend a few of the spanko community gatherings in the upcoming year. While I stand in awe of those hearty few who are able to attend multiple functions, I won’t have the luxury of being at all of them.
Boardwalk Badness is definitely on my calendar for 2013. I’m wondering whether the recovery effort from Sandy will still be ongoing by the time the party is held? The people and businesses there took a real beating, so I’m hopeful that this event will be held as planned.
I made a short stop in at last summer’s Chicago Crimson Moon party, and am hoping to attend this summer, as well. Yoni and the rest of the group were so friendly, and welcomed me (slightly nervous and ever-so-overwhelmed at my first spanko gathering) warmly. I’m also hoping to make it to their annual Halloween party one year.
It sounds like last year’s TASSP party was quite a hit, and I’m wondering whether to add that one to my plans, too..lots of great fun to be had in Texas!
I know that the Delco Spankos and Florida Moonshine group also hold excellent parties, as well as Shadow Lane here in Las Vegas and a few others.
I’m wondering:
Do you attend any of the parties?
If so, tell me about your favorites.
If not, why?
(It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: I’m interested in your experiences, opinions, and recommendations – but I’m not interested in any bashing of any kind. If you’re a fan of a particular group, please do tout their accolades! But if you’ve nothing nice to say – say nothing.)
Also, if you’re going to be adding of the upcoming 2013 parties to your travel schedule, let me know, and I’ll look for you there!
– Dana
