Bedtime Story

The ‘Bedtime Story’  contest generated a lot of creative writing, as in this untitled entry – a story within a story. Enjoy!  
–   Dana

*****



You ask the boy, “My little one, I know your bottom is burning, but other than that are you comfortable ?”  he nods yes and You start:

There was a bright and handsome prince and his mother the Queen was happy with him … most of the time.  As the prince grew older he proved to be smarter and brattier then all of his classmates.  His mother the Queen was beside herself until She noticed a beautiful horse prancing in a circle with an equally beautiful Woman holding his reigns.  The Woman put the horse through his paces and never once touched the crop She held in Her right hand.  The horses movements were graceful and one could see the pride the Woman rider took in Her horse.  When the Rider put the horse through a series of ballet movements the Queen applauded.

The prince at the same time was getting a scolding from his professors due to his lack of effort in doing his homework and in the lack of courtesy and respect to the other students, the professors and even his mother the Queen.  The prince reacted according to his normal behavior and used foul language in addressing his professors, “You are all servants and nothing more of my mother the stupid queen who hired you.  Stop lecturing me this instant.  One by one his professors left the room in anger.  One of his professors a man who was highly respected found the Queen and this Rider talking.  He knelt in front of the Queen and bowed his head.  He then did the same thing to the Lady Rider.  The Queen was impressed but when the professor told his story, the Queen became embarrassed and angry at Her sons attitude and behavior.  The Lady who had ridden the horse listened and spoke out before the Queen could act or say anything.  “Your Highness, it is apparent that Your son is in need of some strict attention.  I am sorry that it has come to this, but has Your son ever been properly spanked ?”
The Queen shook Her head no and the Lady continued, “Your Highness, if I may let Me take over the care of Your son.  Strip him of his title and assign him to Me for a period of 90 days.  At the end of that time, I will bring him back to You a changed person and a young man You can be proud of.”
The Queen thought about this and smiled grimly, “Will You break him as You broke that lovely beast ?”
The Woman laughed and said, “Your Highness more so than any beast I have come across Your son needs to and will be broken.  Harshly if necessary, I will most definitely hurt him, but I will never harm him.”

Early the next morning, the Queen was in Her royal chamber holding court.  Her son was next to Her smirking at all the common people his Mother judged.  Then the Captain of the Queens own guard approached him, grabbed his arm and took him before the Queen.  The prince threatened the Captain of the guard…who promptly drew his sword.  The prince went wide eyed seeing this and visibly went pale.  he was pulled before his Mother and forced to kneel.  The Queen spoke with a severity the boy had never heard before.  “My son, you have had every opportunity to prove your value to Myself and My kingdom.  To put it clearly, I am outraged !  I have sat here and listened as every one of your professors have come to Me, told Me what was happening and then quit.  No more My disobedient son.  As of this moment you are no longer the prince and heir to the thrown.  You will be taken from this place to a place of My choosing.  There you will be placed in the care of This woman.”

From behind the Queen a beautiful, being appeared.  The great hall gasped as She walked gracefully forward.  She gracefully curtsied to the Queen and with music in Her voice said, “Your Highness, I accept charge of Your son.”  With that the guards gagged the shocked boy and took him out of the room and out of the palace.  he was stripped of his robes, put in a simple brown tunic and thrown into a cart of hay.  The young boy was in a whirlwind of emotions when he was unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a horse stall.  The door was locked as was the top of the stall.  It was a cage he was trapped !!!

The boy was awakened well before dawn by a pail of water dumped on him from above.  he sputtered and shook his head and looked up.  he cursed at the young lady who had dumped the water on him.  She merely smiled and said nothing.  Later, She came and dropped some fruit to him from the caged top of the stall.  The boy bellowed to Her again and threatened Her with such violence that She left his sight.  The stall door was opened and the first thing that happened was that the Woman he had seen in his Mothers court approached him and viciously slapped his face.  “You will NOT talk to one of Mine like that ever again.  Should I ever hear of such, I promise you that your life will be filled with pain.  Now get out here and strip !”  The stunned boy followed this beautiful Woman out into the light and saw Her sit on a log.  he very slowly took off his very thin top and stood embarrassed in front of Her and the Lady who had given him the fruit and dumped water on him.  Without hesitation the Woman grabbed the young lad and threw him across Her lap…

Miss Dana shut the DVD player off and turned Her attention to the young student before Her.  “So,” She said, “This is the kind of material you like to view when you are supposed to be asleep ?”  The boy in front of Her was silent.  With a command of authority She said, “Answer me young man right NOW!”

Robert gasped and unable to meet Her eyes said, “Yes Miss Dana, I’m sorry.”  Dana had read through both the school handbook specifically the part where it specified different punishments that could be handed out, and the file on Robert.  She calmly pulled Her chair out from behind Her desk and sat down.  She pushed a button on Her phone and spoke with Her secretary.  Young Robert could not believe his ears.  Miss Lydia the head girl was being summoned.  Miss Dana sat silently for a full five minutes before Miss Lydia showed up.  Miss Dana finally spoke.  “Lydia, it seems that young master Robert enjoys spending his evenings watching Women give spankings and floggings to young men.”  Robert wanted to crawl in a hole.  “Lydia, I am assigning You a very special task.  Every other evening, You will escort young master Robert to Your room.  Once there he will take his clothes off and stand in the corner until You are ready for him.  He is to be placed over Your lap and severely spanked with Your hand, the hair brush I used to use on You as well as the wonderful slipper Your cousin left You.  He will then kneel in the corner, his hands on his head for a period of ten minutes.  You will then take him out of the corner and make him lie on his stomach Your bed.  You will then use the crop and the leather strap each for thirty full swats each.  This will be followed by his being placed in the diaper position.  You will then issue two dozen of the best with the senior cane.  This will go on as I said every other day for a period of three weeks.  On the days that You do not do this, You will go to his room where You Yourself will strip him and then place him over Your lap for a severe spanking.  Do You understand Lydia ?”  Lydia nodded yes.

The first night that Miss Lydia escorted Robert to Her room, She relished the opportunity to discipline Robert.  The fact of the matter was that She knew Robert really liked Her and was going to use that to Her advantage.  Robert was in tears far before he was allowed to put his clothes back on.  The next night She went to his room dressed in Her tightest fitting blouse to accentuate the feature Robert drooled over…Her breasts.  Lydia first took Her time taking his clothes off then turned Robert over Her lap and began spanking him.  For three weeks Lydia not only spanked Robert, but tormented him by dressing suggestively.  The last time Lydia spanked Robert, both of them were naked.

Early the next morning Miss Dana called Lydia and Robert to Her office.  They arrived and sat down.  Miss Dana talked with them for about thirty minutes.  She rose and turned a television monitor towards them.  On the screen was both Lydia and Robert naked and making out.  She gave them a wicked smile as She turned to them and planned Her own discipline for both of them.

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New F/F spanking video: ‘Bathtime, Interrupted’

Chapter Seven in the series ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother’



After cleaning the fireplace, Angel takes a bath as Stepmother ordered. 



But there’s no escaping Stepmommy, 



as Angel finds out when the bathbrush and bubbles start flying.



Enjoy the screenshots! 



To purchase the video, click the link below:


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

‘Camelot’ : Original F/M Spanking Fiction



Readers,
I hope that you’re enjoying all the entries for the ‘Bedtime Story’  writing contest. More thanks to the author of ‘Camelot’, and all the others, for contributing.


–  Dana

*****




George Peabody was a very important and powerful man. Though only 27, he was CEO (mostly because of birth, not ability) of Peabody Industries, a scratch golfer, and had the most beautiful woman in town as his wife. The only problem was that George was a prick. There is no other way to put it, he was a prick! The workers at the plant despised him, other members at the country club barely tolerated him and after only 6 months of marriage his wife was ready to divorce him or worse. How do I know all this? I was that George Peabody!

The day that changed everything started out like any other day. I turned down a promotion for one of my best employees, then went to the club and made an ass of myself by drinking too much and then went to a strip club to harass the dancers. By the time I wobbled home it was almost midnight. My lovely wife was waiting for me, which was very unusual in itself and she the weirdest look on her face.

“Tonight was the last straw. Get your drunk ass in this bed! I’m going to read you a story about another man who thought he was so high and mighty and what happened to him is going to happen to you!” Which leads us to our story:


CAMELOT

Our story takes us to a place that existed long ago and far away……well not that long or that far, but you get the gist. All the realm was filled with anticipation as the new King and Queen were about to ascend the throne. King Jack and Queen Jackie were young and vibrant and brought a sense of hope to a place that had been ruled by old King Ike. It was expected that the scoundrel Tricky Dick was to be the next King but Lord Giancana and his merry men put a stop to that. But I digress. Anyway,the times were good, all were prosperous,harvests were bountiful, and King Jack had faced down the Soviet Bear from across the sea. But there was trouble brewing in Camelot……

Now King Jack was a handsome man and attracted many a glance from the maidens. His chief adviser, Prince Bobby was often known to procure the finest milk and lamb fed maidens for the king’s pleasure. The poor Queen suffered in silence not knowing what path to take. Often she was heard sobbing in her bed chambers as the King only a stone’s throw away could be heard partaking in the delight of another beautiful wench. Not even the Court Jester PrinceTeddy could bring a smile to her face…..all seemed lost.

As the days went by the King was spending more time on his escapades then in ruling the country. A war was brewing in a far off land called Nam. A beast called Inflation had become more prevalent. For the first time in his reign the people were starting to protest. The King’s reaction, he raised taxes on the already overburdened populace and had his army patrolling the countryside to quell any unrest. His kingdom was in disarray and his court was not much better. Only the countries love for the Queen kept their subjects in check. Camelot seemed to be on the edge of anarchy.

But the event that changed everything occurred during the celebration of the King’s birth. The Queen had gone to great lengths to hold an event that would be the talk of the villagers for years to come. Everyone was invited. Food and drink were in abundance. Entertainment abounded. Lords Sinatra and Martin sang. There was a jousting tournament,archery contest and pin the tail on the dragon. Hope sprung eternal. Then it happened. The most beautiful lady in the realm dared to approach the King and sing her rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. A haze of discomfort floated over the proceedings. Not only was the Lady Marilyn attempting to serenade the King but her lack of attire led one to believe she had other plans for him as well. TMZ, the town crier, had often speculated whether the King had carnal knowledge of Lady Marilyn. It seemed so…That was the last straw for Queen Jackie. She had suffered her last humiliation at the hands of that swine. Something had to be done and with the help of the gods it would be. The Queens closest friend and confidant just happen to be the Royal Disciplinarian, Lady Ethel. Woe to the miscreant forced to the tower to endure a session at her hands. So between the two a plan was hatched. After the King passed out from too much grog, a close group of the Queen’s inner circle would snatch him from his bed, truss him up and deliver him to the tower.

As the King stirred from his stupor, he found himself bent over a bale of hay with his royal buttocks on display for all to see. Iron rings in the floor secured his arms and legs leaving him unable to move. Among the crowd watching this spectacle were all the castle staff who were often humiliated and treated like scum by the King. Also there were the King’s closest advisers and a handful of the town elders. Emotions ran high as the Queen entered the chamber. What was happening? Who is in charge?
In no uncertain terms the Queen answered all their questions and more. To continue in power, the King must submit to a thrashing at the hands of Lady Ethel. Also taxes were to be reduced and government spending held in check. A council would be formed to meet with King to air any grievances the populace might have. All the King had to do was put his X on the agreement.

What choice did he have. Had he really been that bad? Did his subjects hate him so. And what a cad he had been. Poor Queen Jackie. The X was drawn and the trashing began.

At that time the tool of choice was the cane. The sentence of choice was 50 strokes. The intensity of choice was ‘well laid on’. That is how the punishment was administered. After 25 strokes, Lady Ethel started to tire and the Queen took over. It was not any easier for the King. After each stroke, the staff would cheer and comment on their effectiveness. Any stroke not met as such was repeated. And to clarify, the same sentence was to be administered once a week until the fall harvest, many months away. The King’s throne did not get much use for many a day.

All was well in Camelot. Hope and prosperity returned. A kinder, gentler King was overseeing the kingdom with compassion and caring. Only Queen Jackie caught his eye as all the chambermaids were now men. A new group was formed in the castle called “The Secret Service” who’s only job was to prevent the ladies from accosting the King.

How does our story end? Well Lady Marilyn joined an acting troupe and went on to stardom. Lord Bobby tried to be king and had the people’s support but his life was snuffed out by an infiltrator. Teddy also tried to be king, but an indiscretion where he drove his cart into the moat ended those plans. As for the King and Queen? King Jack never really changed. He always had an eye for the ladies. Not a year later he was assassinated in an outer province, many think by Lord Giancanna at the behest of the Queen. There was no evidence, not a clue was left behind. As for the Queen, she went on to become Lady O and marry the world’s richest merchant.


“That was quite a story my dear, what does that mean for us?” The same sort of contract had been prepared for me to sign and the first 50 were administered that night. Needless to say George Peabody was a changed men. A kinder, gentler version…..people were amazed. You might think the moral of the story was even the most powerful men can get their comeuppance but to me their was a different meaning….

did I tell you my wife’s maiden name was Gotti?
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‘Cinder Angel’ : F/F spanking video


Chapter Six in the series ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother’


As extra punishment for tattling, Stepmother makes Angel clean the fireplace with a toothbrush.


Sadly for Angel, nothing will make Stepmommy happy now..


Angel receives a hard leather strapping while on her hands and knees.


And Stepmommy just keeps getting crazier..









Enjoy the screenshots and video preview!          – Dana


To purchase the full video, click the link below:
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Excellent spanking fiction: Bedtime Story contest entry

This entry to the ‘Bedtime Story’ contest is titled ‘Hansel’…enjoy!   – Dana

*****

Hansel


Once upon a time there was a young man named Hansel who lived in a village by the forest. All his life the people of the village had advised him not to go into the forest as it was well known that a wicked witch lived in there and she would enslave any young man stupid enough to go near her cottage. It was said that many young men from the village had fallen into her hands and never been seen again. Hansel was intrigued by these stories and being young and foolish and certainly not afraid of any old witch decided that he would venture into the forest and defeat her because everybody knew that witches had treasure and with her riches he would be able to marry his sweetheart, Gretel. So one morning Hansel set off into the deep dark forest. He walked for many a mile before he saw, in front of him, the cottage. Nervously he looked around but of the witch there was no sign. Screwing up his courage he crept up to the window and peered inside. There was no one in there but he could see a large chest beside the dresser. “That must be were she keeps the treasure” he thought and slipped round to the door. It wasn’t locked so he carefully sneaked in and made his way to the chest. Opening it he found not treasure but a number of wooden and leather implements the use of which he couldn’t discern. Glancing around the cottage he noticed some other unusual decorations. On one wall hung a number of canes such as the schoolmaster in the village had and on the other a carpet beater, riding crops and other items which he had no idea what they were. So intrigued was he with this he didn’t hear the door opening behind him.
“What’s this! A thief in my home” cried the witch, “I have ways of dealing with sneaky little robbers”. Hansel jumped and turned round and to his surprise saw not the wrinkled old crone he had expected but tall, beautiful woman with raven hair and flashing eyes. ” I think that thieves should be punished and punished severely” she said “Don’t you?” Hansel was bewitched immediately and knew that whatever this dazzling woman commanded he would obey. She walked over to the open chest and picked out a small wooden paddle. ” Take down your britches” she commanded and Hansel immediately complied.He was embarrassed to be standing before this goddess naked below the waist but at the same time he knew that he deserved whatever was coming. “Over my lap” said the witch and Hansel obeyed. The paddle fell upon his bare buttocks and he knew immediately that he was going to be very sore when she had finished with him. For the next ten minutes the cottage rang with the sounds of paddle meeting bottom and the cries and pitiful moans of Hansel. “Please Mistress” he cried “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again”  Eventually the witch grew tired of Hansel wriggling over her lap and commanded him to stand up. Relieved that his punishment was over Hansel did so only to find that she had other ideas. Walking over to the canes hanging on the wall she picked one and swished it menacingly. “Bend over the chair” she said and once again Hansel obeyed without question. The cane he discovered had quite a different sensation to the thwack of the paddle. Sharper and more concentrated he found himself begging for mercy within a few strokes. The witch, however, was in no mood for mercy. 24 strokes fell upon the unprotected cheeks of his bottom to an ever increasing volume of cries. Finally though she stopped “Stand up” she said “Go and stand in the corner with your hands on your head and you will stay there without a sound until I decide to let you go” Hansel shuffled over to the corner as instructed feeling very sore and very embarrassed.
His embarrassment was made worse as throughout the afternoon the witch entertained a series of visitors all of whom chuckled and made ribald comments about his bright red backside. After hours of this humiliation the witch finally let him go. Ushering him to the door with a number of smacks to his bottom she sent him on his way saying ” I hope you’ve learned your lesson but I expect I’ll be seeing you again” Hansel didn’t know why she said that as he had no intention of ever going anywhere near the cottage ever again, Still sniffling sadly he made his way back to his home.
Later that evening Hansel thought back on the events of the day “How humiliating and painful that was” he thought as he relived the whole horrible experience in his mind. “I’m certainly staying out of the woods from now on”. Strangely though 1 month later he found himself once again strolling through the forest on his way to the cottage as indeed he did regularly throughout the rest of his life. For as the villagers had known all along, the witch could indeed enchant men and make them into her willing slaves. 
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Alright, already : Boardwalk Badness



Readers,


I have a confession to make. In the past, I have been known to say things like:


“I don’t really like to attend big parties.”


And:


“I don’t do much public play.”


And the classic:


“Crowds make me crazy.”


Apparently, all those statements must now be rescinded, because I will be attending the annual 


Boardwalk Badness Weekend  in Atlantic City, April 27-29.


(As regular readers know, I was shooting for an animal charity fundraising booth this year, but time’s gotten away from me, alas.)


From everything I’ve heard and read, the Strictly Spanking folks put on one helluva party, and I am anticipating a great time. (I am also thoroughly and happily anticipating seeing my wonderful friend Erica Scott much sooner than previously expected!)




See you there!


– Dana

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

Video Preview and Photos: ‘Cupcake Cornertime’ : F/F spanking




‘Cupcake Cornertime’

Chapter Five in the series ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother’


Angel tattled to her father about Stepmother’s spankings, which sends Stepmommy around the bend.


She makes cupcakes ‘just for Angel’…


..then pulls her into the corner and spanks her with wooden spoons.


Poor Little Angel realizes more than ever just how dangerous her new Stepmother really is.

Video Preview:



Enjoy the preview and screenshots, and please feel free to email me your feedback at danakanespanks@gmail.com

To purchase the video, click the link below:
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Spanking story : ‘The Bedtime Story’ contest entry



Readers,


Here is another excellent story submitted for the ‘Bedtime Story’ contest. ‘The Wish’ is a beautifully-written F/F spanking fairy tale.


Enjoy!


 – Dana

*****

‘The Wish’

The young lady stood at her window brushing her long, reddish brown hair. The stars that night were so very clear and the moon hung in the black velvet sky ever so brightly. Looking idly outside, she began to think of how she had walked on this vast planet for the past 30 years. The lady had always seemed to have everything under control and was quite the dominant factor in her outside life. She had many responsibilities but there was a secret she held from the outside world. She was so very afraid that the secret could get out that she wanted to be controlled for a change. The years of working to control everyone and everything in the world she lived in was starting to become incredibly overwhelming as of late. As she looked on the beautiful star, in fact it was the second star to the right and so very bright, she made a wish that night. She spoke it allowed hoping that some way it would be heard: 
“I wish that someone would take control and command me across their lap for a spanking. I want to have no control over the situation at all. I wish I may, I wish I might, on this star tonight that a woman will take me in hand so I can surrender this control for a change.” 
Gazing at the moon, which had a lovely shade of red in it this night, the young girl sighed sadly to herself. She shook her head and laid the wooden hairbrush on the nightstand, believing that her wish would be in vain, but at least it was spoken outwardly now. She looked at her work clothes for the next day and her name tag that had her job title on it “Manager” and ran her finger across it with a soft, disappointed smile as she made her way to her lonely queen sized bed. She laid down in her bed wearing her black shorts with a black Cami, curling up under the covers to drift off to sleep. She kicked the covers to the side because it was very warm and laid on her back. 
While the girl slept, a woman was standing outside the window. The woman was, in fact, a genie who happened to hear the girl’s wish.  She looked up and saw that the balcony doors were still opened to the bedroom. She knew why she was here on this midnight hour in front of this house. The woman was dressed in a black leather skirt, a red corset, and thigh high boots. Her deep green eyes held a bit of spirited mischief as she looked at the rose ladder with blooming deep red flowers that matched her lips. The woman had no problem scaling the ladder and stood on the balcony, looking inside the bedroom of the young lady sleeping soundly. She walked with such elegance that nothing could possibly hear her move about the room. She looked at the name badge of the girl that summoned her wish on that star and her title. “Tonight, my dear, you will not be managing anything,” she whispered with an impish grin. 
Walking over to the young girl so very quietly, she gazed at the girl’s full bottom and smirked. Raising her hand letting her hand touch the girl’s cheek and leaning forward, she whispered into the girl’s ear “Arise from your slumber, darling. I have a special gift for you.” The girl cracked an eye open and looked up to see the lady dressed in black and red. Startling her, she jumped up and crawled to the other end of the bed.  “Who are you? How did you get in here? What’s going on? Look, I don’t have anything for you to take,” the lady was very confused. 
With self-assurance, Genie stood tall and watched as the girl scampered from her. Her voice was like magic when she spoke. It was as if all the tension erased from the girl as she listened, “I am Genie and I came through your balcony that was left opened for me to fulfill your deepest, sweetest desires my girl.” She stood with her hands on her hips, giving the young lady her eye piercing gaze, rose a single finger and motioned for the girl to approach her.”Your wish did not fall on deaf ears, Michelle. You will come to me now and kneel before me.” It was like she had no control over her body as she moved forward just as Genie had commanded. She felt every bit of worry and tension washing away from her soul as she rose from the bed and walked closer to Genie. The cold hardwood floor didn’t even bother her because the only thing she wanted to do was obey this woman. Michelle made it to Genie, dropping to her knees before her in submission, and lowered her eyes whispering a soft, “Yes Ma’am.” 
The Genie circled her new bottom carefully as she took in the girl’s facial features, beautiful hair, and full frame. She spoke gently but firmly as she took the straight back armless chair from the desk and hairbrush, sitting it in the middle of the room, and put the hairbrush near her on the nightstand.
“Michelle, crawl to me now and lay across my lap like a good girl and present your bottom to me, please.” She commanded. 
With no other choice and no words spoken from the girl, Michelle leaned forward on all fours and moved to Genie in a catlike manner that made the woman smile. She crawled up and over Genie’s lap, placing her hands palm down on the floor and her tiptoes barely touched the floor as she pushed her bottom up for Genie. Genie started moving her soft hands over Michelle’s bottom in slow circles and spoke, “Yes, my dear, do not worry and do not stress. I want you to relax for me and take what I give you. You are under my control, my spell from this moment on. Do you understand me, girl?” 
Michelle nodded and whispered submissively, “Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”
Genie smiled that wonderful smile and patted Michelle’s bottom encouragingly, “Good girl.” With that, she rose her hand and began spanking Michelle over her black sleeping shorts. She took great consideration as she slowly worked her way into warming this young lady’s bottom. She moved all over the bottom presented so beautifully for her. On the sit-spots, in the center of each cheek, and then in the center of her full backside. Genie delighted in the soft moans that Michelle vocalized. She frowned as she saw Michelle clenching her pert bottom, “No, no. No clenching at all, girl. ” Michelle immediately relaxed her bottom and continued to whimper as the smacks on her backside started to become more fierce. 
Genie continued to speak in her gentle voice,” You will take exactly what I give you, Michelle. The spanking and dominance I am giving you is your wish and my gift to you. You wanted this, young lady, so you will take it.” She enunciated each word with a sharp smack to Michelle’s bottom. Stopping for a moment, Genie put her elegant fingers in the waistband of the girl’s shorts. Pulling them down slowly, she noticed that the two firm orbs had a lovely shade of pink on each of them. She made a “tsk tsk” noise as she noticed Michelle was wearing no panties. “Girl, you will have no protection for the next round of my gift to you.” Genie remarked as she grabbed the wooden hairbrush from the nightstand and let it rest on the girl’s reddened cheeks. Michelle let out a groan as she anticipated how badly this was going to hurt. She mindlessly clenched her cheeks which resulted in a firm smack and a scolding, “Young lady, I said do NOT clench. You will take 50 swats with this brush now and it will continue to grow if you don’t  obey me. Do you understand me, dear?” Nodding obediently, Michelle whispered a soft “Yes Ma’am, I am so sorry.” Genie smiled confidently,” Wonderful, my girl. Now, shall we begin? You will concentrate on not wiggling and not clenching. Just relax my darling, just relax.” Genie said as she ran her fingernails over the taunt, crimson globes. She tapped the girl’s bottom with the brush, a signal to Michelle that her wish had finally come true. She knew in her heart of hearts that there was no way out of this and she had absolutely zero say in this matter. Her only option was to lay across this strong woman’s lap and take exactly what she had coming to her. Michelle mentally braced herself as she submitted to Genie. 
The first strike came down with such velocity that it sent a chill up and down her spine. Michelle tried so hard not to clench  or wiggle. She wanted to obey and do exactly what was expected of her. Genie saw this from Michelle and continued to encourage Michelle with each and every swat that she gave the girl. As Genie rained the punishing brush down on the girl, Michelle could have sworn she heard a sweet sound coming from the woman that was overpowering her body and mind. It was like a song that she was humming and her bottom was the drum. Michelle lowered her head as she took the thirtieth swat, then the next, and then finally she got to forty. 
“I want you to count the last ten, my dear.” The Genie said as she patted Michelle’s bottom with the brush. She raised the brush and came down with a resounding smack across the target set before her. “One, Ma’am.” Michelle spoke through a quivering voice. She felt her swollen, red bottom burning under Genie’s strength. Genie simply looked on at her target with her head tilted and concentrated on the task at hand. After each punishing stroke, Michelle choked out the count and attempted to choke back the tears forming in her hazel eyes. Genie kept her arm tight around the girl’s waist as she delivered exactly what she said she would. As they approached the final stroke, Genie commented, “You know what they say about the last stroke, my sweet?” Teasing her bottom, she tapped the brush right in the very center of the two blushing cheeks. “It is most assuredly always, always the hardest of all.” And with that, Genie raised the brush high and came down directly in the center causing Michelle to jolt forward and yelp out, “Ouch!!!! Ten Ma’am!!!” Michelle laid limply over Genie’s thighs, breathing in and out deeply trying to catch her breath. Genie laid the brush down on the nightstand and inspected the girl’s bottom. It was very well punished and Genie looked pleased at her handiwork. She squeezed the once lily white cheeks. “Very good girl. You did well.” She said smoothly to the submissive girl. 
A stream of silent tears ran down Michelle’s cheek but she was smiling as she listened to this woman’s voice. “Thank you so much, Ma’am. Thank you.” The Genie smiled and rubbed small circles about the girl’s bottom. She reached over and took the lotion off the nightstand and put a healthy dose on the girl’s swollen cheeks. “You are very welcome, my girl.” 
The Genie pulled up the girl’s sleeping shorts over her swollen globes and instructed her to stand up. “Now that I have made your backside match the moon outside, I will have to leave for now.” Michelle looked up at the woman, she was stunned by the way the woman carried herself with such poise. “But, Genie, when will I see you again?” The Genie just merely smiled at Michelle and said, “Wish as you may, wish as you might, all you have to do is wish, and this Genie will be with you any night.” 
With that simple statement, Genie disappeared from Michelle’s bedroom. The girl turned around and shook her head, trying to grasp what happened. She made her way over to the chair and put it back under her desk and grazed her finger over the brush with a smile. Her bottom was very tender and she laid in the bed on her stomach. Curling up to the pillows, she drifted off into a deep and happy sleep. She whispered as sweet dreams came to kidnap her for the rest of the evening, “Thank you, Genie.” Michelle could have sworn she heard  a very soft but magical voice in her ear,” You’re welcome, my girl.”
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‘Stepmommy Dearest’ : F/F spanking video


‘Stepmommy Dearest’

Chapter Four in the series ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother’.


Ange’s room is a wreck.


And what is this? Boy’s underwear?!


Stepmother loses her cool and spanks Angel hard with wire hangers.




I hope that you enjoy the screenshots, and if you’d like to download the full video, click below:
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Bedtime Story contest winner!



The ‘Bedtime Story’ writing contest was a tough one, but (as always) entrants made a lovely show of creativity. This time wasn’t just about writing a story – or even just about writing a Good Story – but also about how well that story would translate into an upcoming film.
The winner this month will not only see his or her story in a future spanking video, but will also receive the ‘prize’ – a free spanking session with me.
I am happy to announce that the winner is:


‘Goldilocks and the Three Bears’, submitted by the UK Laureate! UKL has submitted entries to many contests, along with his other poems and stories, and his entry to the Bedtime Story contest was simply spot on. I will look forward with great anticipation to delivering his spanking prize later this month.


(The video which I’ll make to accompany the story will be available in coming weeks. My sincerest thanks to all of the authors – I will be sharing all of the entries throughout the month of March.)


Enjoy!   – Dana

*****


Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived three bears – Daddy Bear, Mummy Bear and Baby Bear. Despite his name, Baby Bear was actually twenty years old but Mummy and Daddy Bear still regarded him as their baby. They all lived in a small house in a big forest. The house was furnished very simply, with a table, three chairs – one for each of the Bear family – and three beds, again, one for each of them. 

Every morning when they got up Mummy Bear made a big pot of porridge for their breakfast. She then took three bowls and put a serving of porridge in each – a large portion for Daddy Bear, a medium portion for herself, and a small portion for Baby Bear. However, because it had just been served from the steaming pot, the porridge was too hot to eat straightaway, so they went for a walk in the forest, which not only gave the porridge time to cool down, but also meant the three Bears built up their appetite.

Now, unknown to the Bears, just outside the forest there was a big house, where a young woman named Goldilocks lived. Goldilocks was very beautiful. She had an hourglass figure and long, flowing, blonde hair, which, of course, is why she was called Goldilocks. 

Every morning when Goldilocks got up she took a shower and dressed. Her favourite clothes were a corset that made her waist look even thinner and her bust even bigger, and leather trousers that hugged her legs and curvy bottom like a second skin. Having put them on, she looked in the mirror and smiled to herself. “Yes,” she thought, “that will raise all the men’s interest – but woe betide any of them that dare try it on!” You see, Goldilocks was a very strict lady who believed in the very highest of standards, and she had her own ways of enforcing them.

One warm, sunny morning Goldilocks decided to go for a walk in the forest. She was, as usual, wearing her favourite outfit, and she was carrying the riding-crop that she always took with her when out and about. Walking down the path she suddenly decided to leave her normal route and make her way deeper into the forest. And so it was that she came across the small house that belonged to the three Bears. 

‘I wonder who lives there?’ she thought, and knocked on the door. When there was no answer she pushed the door gently and it opened. She stepped inside and looked around. She saw the three bowls of porridge on the table and the three chairs. Curious, she tasted one of the bowls of porridge but it was way too hot to eat. She tried another bowl but was horrified that it had not been mixed properly and was all lumpy. Then she tried the third bowl, which had honey on top of the porridge and before she could stop herself she ate it all! 

Then she decided to sit down for a moment, choosing the biggest chair but it was too hard. She moved to the middle chair but it was padded and too soft. Then she tried the small chair but unfortunately, as she sat down, it collapsed beneath her. Goldilocks was not pleased and made her way into the next room, where she saw three beds. She sat down on the first, which was king-size, but it was too hard. She tried the queen-size, but it was too soft. So then she tried the small bed, which was really comfortable, and she rested for a few minutes before making her way out of the house and continuing her walk.

For the remainder of the day she couldn’t stop thinking about the house, still wondering who it was who lived there. She knew that somebody must do, otherwise how else was there hot porridge? So the next morning she decided to visit the house again. However, she couldn’t remember exactly where it was, and by the time she found it she arrived later than on the previous day. Assuming there was no-one there she pushed open the door and stepped inside. What a shock she had as she saw Daddy Bear, Mummy Bear and Baby Bear in the room!

But not as shocked as they were to see her. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” Daddy Bear asked gruffly.

“I am Goldilocks,” she replied. “I own this forest and I have come to check up on you. I need to know that you are responsible tenants, and from what I have seen so far I am not satisfied that is the case.”

As she spoke she noticed Daddy Bear eyeing her up and down and, in fact, ogling her, which displeased her very greatly. She also saw Mummy Bear holding a wooden spoon, and Baby Bear, who was having a tantrum because he wanted more honey for his porridge. And the small chair, which had broken the day before, was still lying on the floor in pieces. ‘No, this won’t do at all’, she decided quickly to herself.

“By what names are you known?” she demanded. 

“I’m Daddy Bear,” said Daddy Bear. 

“I’m Mummy Bear,” said Mummy Bear. 

“I’m Baby Bear, and I want some more honey,” said Baby Bear.

“Well, Daddy Bear,” said Goldilocks, “I am not impressed by your behaviour. I do not like the way you have been eyeing me, and I see you have not bothered to mend that broken chair. It is my role to punish those who misbehave. Come here and bend over.”

Meekly Daddy Bear did as she had ordered. He could tell she was not a woman to trifle with but he was not prepared for what happened next. Raising her riding crop, Goldilocks started to whip him, and continued until he was feeling very sorry for himself indeed.

Next Goldilocks addressed Mummy Bear. “You, Mummy Bear, have also been neglectful of your duty. I am aware that you do not stir the porridge sufficiently and allow it to go lumpy, and you have let Baby Bear continue with his tantrum without taking any action. The wooden spoon in your hand would have been ideal for dealing with both of those situations. Give it to me and I will show you.”

Mummy Bear gave Goldilocks the wooden spoon but was then taken aback as she found herself being the recipient of a salvo of hard blows. She had no idea just how painful that wooden spoon could be when used on the tenderest spot.

Finally it was Baby Bear’s turn to be dealt with. “I do not tolerate tantrums,” she informed him as she hoisted him across her lap and proceeded to spank his bottom, very, very hard. 

When Goldilocks left, saying she would be back the next week to check on their behaviour, the three Bears were all feeling extremely sore, and they knew they had to mend their ways if they were not to suffer further at Goldilocks’ hand.

And to this day, that is why it is traditional for those who misbehave to be punished with a Bear-bottom spanking!

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Video, Video, Video! (F/M AND F/F)



Readers,


As you may have noticed, it’s been a video-kind-of-week here. I’m happy with the progress of the premium videos on my Clips4Sale and Spanking Library stores, and the free Product Testing videos just keep rolling out!
With that in mind, I thought I’d do a ‘mash-up’ post of sorts today – sharing another fun Product Testing video, along with a short preview from the premium videos on which I’ve been working.


Please do feel free to email me or leave your comment in the box below. As always, I am having a LOT of fun making these little films, so I do hope that you’re enjoying them.


– Dana



Product Testing with Dana Kane: Exotic Walnut Naughty Stick




Slutty Schoolgirl Morning

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Slutty Schoolgirl Morning: F/F spanking premium video


‘Slutty Schoolgirl Morning’


Episode Three in ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother’

This girl just will not learn. After just two days, she’s still rebelling in a big way. This morning, it’s her clothing..


I cannot believe that she thinks she’s going to school dressed like this, and I won’t stand for her smart-ass backtalk for one more minute.


She is going to receive a hard bare-hand and hairbrush spanking and a few ‘words of advice’ from the Stepmother.


..and then some time to think about all the trouble she’s causing.


Please enjoy the screenshots – and if you’d like to download the full video, click the link below:

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

‘Grab Your Ankles’ : New premium F/M spanking



It’s been a hectic week, and I have not had the time to properly police his behavior. This has led to some serious slacking on his part.



His dirty laundry has been sitting there for three days, and I cannot stand it anymore. Laundry is HIS responsibility.



Instead of listening to his excuses, I yank his belt off and make him grab his ankles for some swift discipline. Then I make him gather up all the dirty laundry while I land more strikes of the belt on his lazy bottom. 


Enjoy the screenshots, and if you’d like to purchase the full video, click the link below:

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

Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother: Chapter Two


Sneaking in the Boyfriend


Chapter Two in the series ‘Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother.


Angel thinks that her father and the Stepmother will be out all evening, so she invites her boyfriend over.
Unfortunately for Angel, the Stepmother comes home early and catches her wearing sexy lingerie.


Angel has broken a major house rule and must be properly disciplined for her slutty behavior.



Enjoy the screenshots, and if you’d like to download the ten-minute video, click the link below:

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

F/F Video: Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother


 ‘Welcome Home, Angel’


‘Welcome Home, Angel’ is Episode One in a new premium F/F spanking video series titled:

 – Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother – 

Poor Little Angel has been sent to live with her father – and his new wife. The Stepmother is NOT happy to have this disruption in her new home, and Angel isn’t happy to be there, either. She’s been getting away with a lot at her mom’s house, but not here. 


The Stepmother isn’t having any of her smart remarks or feeble excuses. Angel will learn to behave, or she will be punished.






By the end of ‘Welcome Home, Angel’ two things are certain: Angel is a major brat…and the Stepmother just may be crazy.


Enjoy the screenshots, and if you’d like to download the 8+ minute video, click the link below:

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

Spanking PSA: Tears



The ability to reach tears during a discipline session is, for many spankees, an oft-fantasized yet rarely-realized circumstance.

 
(from FemdomArtists.com)

 

Many of my playmates voice the interest (or longing) to express their emotions through tears during the course of a long, hard spanking.


Here are a few things which my experience as a spanker have taught me (Disclaimer: The following may or may not reflect your experience/opinions and are in no way meant to be definitive statements on the spankee community as a whole.):


 –  Female bottoms seem to be more naturally inclined to be able to reach tears during spanking play. 


Why? I’ve no idea, and won’t presume to guess. 


 –  There is almost zero correlation between the severity of a spanking and ones’ ability to reach tears.
   
When we’re children – especially in the first few years of life – physical pain equals crying. Toddlers tip       over and scream their lungs out for approximately forty-five seconds; eight year-olds scrape a knee and you’d swear that someone had just amputated the entire leg, tears, snot and all; but somewhere along the way we learn that it’s not grown-up to fall apart emotionally every time we injure ourselves physically. 


At some time on the way to adulthood, we learn that big boys and girls don’t cry, which means that – in most cases – it doesn’t matter how hard your spanking is – you are unlikely to cry real tears from the discomfort alone.


 –  Trying to cry/forcing it or fake crying will only frustrate you. 


Unless you’re one of those people who can bring tears at any time (a marketable talent if you’re a spanking model),  things like holding your breath, squinching your eyes, and trying to hyperventilate won’t help. Also, saying things like “I don’t know why I can’t cry right now” are no help whatsoever, I’m sorry to say.


 –  Adult crying is something that happens when we think, or talk – not when we scrape our knees.


When a playmate does manage tears during the course of a spanking scene, it is – without exception – a release of pent-up emotion. This is almost always unrelated to the actual spanking activity, and crying most often occurs before or after the spanking itself rather than during.


In my experience, a spankee is most likely to shed tears during conversation prior to beginning the spanking – this may come as the result of some sort of confession on the part of the spankee, or because of some generalized state of guilt which may or may not be verbalized.




Just a handful of times have my bottom and I both been completely caught off-guard by an outburst of genuine sobbing during the course of an over-the-knee spanking. On these few rare occasions, I can honestly say that they were truly cleansing, cathartic experiences for both my playmate and for me.


The only advice that I can offer is: Don’t try too hard. Don’t overthink it. In fact, try not to think about it at all. Adult tears are bashful, private, and wary – they won’t come out while you’re watching for them.


 –  Dana

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The UK Laureate Strikes Again! : F/M Spanking writing



More fantastic writing from our very own UK Laureate: ‘Twelve Strokes of the Cane’. (I absolutely adore this boy’s imagination.)


For more from UKL click HERE.

*****


Twelve Strokes of the Cane

One of the things I remember from my childhood was listening to the speaking clock. For non-UK people or perhaps younger people who are not aware of it, the speaking clock was, and is, a telephone service that gives out the time, accurate to within five thousandth of a second. It was started in 1936 and is still operational today, receiving over 30 million calls every year.
Its message was “At the third stroke it will be (e.g.) 10.07 and 50 seconds..bip..bip..bip… At the third stroke it will be 10.08 precisely.. bip…bip…bip” – and so on. 
That recorded phone message is the inspiration for this disciplinary rhyme.

At the first stroke
It will be difficult not to flinch as you feel that first line of fire …
At the second stroke
It will be evident the rod has landed an inch or so higher …
At the third stroke
It will be hard to keep position as you feel the growing pain …
At the fourth stroke
It will be clear she’s quite an expert in applying the school cane …
At the fifth stroke
It will be a test of your resolve to know there’s another seven more …
At the sixth stroke
It will only be half-time and already your bottom’s very sore …
At the seventh stroke
It will be tempting to yell loudly and emit an anguished “0w” …
At the eighth stroke
It will be clear she’s whipping harder but you bear the sting somehow …
At the ninth stroke
It will be scary as you sense her mood is getting more severe …
At the tenth stroke
It will be sure you’ll know those weals will take two weeks to disappear …
At the eleventh stroke
It will be impressed on you that for your crimes this is the price you’ll pay …
At the twelfth stroke
It will be time to put away that cane until another day.

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Photos: What’s Black and Blue and Red allover?


This Boy’s Bottom:



He’s a toughie, no doubt – and usually even constructs some evil implement to help me along in his discipline. This time, it was a double-sided concave wood paddler which turned out to be absolutely excruciating when applied to the inner thighs. 
Add to that almost endless canings, paddlings, strappings, and hand spanks and the result is a near-total coverage of swellings, strawberries, and bruises. (I wish I were there, right now, to poke them a bit.)   


Many thanks to my brave and photogenic playmate for sending these ‘after photos’ along, and for allowing me to share them here.     – Dana

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London Calling



A few interesting things have occurred to me in the last day or so regarding my visit to London next month.


First:

(I understand that there is a converter available. I’m wondering how many I should purchase, considering the number of electronics we all seem to require for maintaining 21st century living.)


Then there’s:
(This is the best photo I could find to depict International Calling, which is not a part of my current telephone plan.)


Then there’s the whole:
(Driving-on-the-left-hand-side-of-the-road-thing. It’s doubtful that I will be doing any actual driving, but still..)

Followed by:
(The Metric System – ’nuff said.)


And…
(Someone just please tell me whether I need to bring my furry boots or not.)


Then there’s the  language barrier to talk about:

PISSED   –   Here, pissed means mad. There, it means drunk. This could lead to some misunderstanding.

FLAT –  If someone in London invites you to their flat, they’re not trying to take you someplace barren – but to their apartment – which may or may not be barren.

BANGER – In London, you’ll get a sausage. In many parts of the U.S., you’ll get a gang-member instead.

BENDER – Another place for some misunderstanding…here, it means drinking binge. In the U.K., it is a derogatory term. I will try not to go on any benders whatsoever.

CHAPS – U.K. = guys, fellas, etc.  U.S. = something that gay cowboys wear.

CRISPS – This is how to order potato chips in London. Conversely, ordering CHIPS will get you french fries.

BISCUIT – cookie. I’m not sure what they call biscuits, but will ask.

FAG – Again, a pretty wide margin of error here. In the U.K., they’re cigarettes.

FOOTBALL – soccer. This one I will likely never need.

The list goes on forever, and the point is that – sometime in the last few hundred years – we have taken some extreme liberties with the language. (I hope I don’t make an arse of myself.)

– Dana



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Photos: Tardiness is Unacceptable



Readers,


Here’s a little cautionary tale:


Once upon a time, there was a boy who just couldn’t manage to be on time. He was given lots of rope to hang himself, having many opportunities and warnings prior to our last meeting. He assured me that he would, indeed, be there promptly.
Alas, the boy was yet again unable to find himself at the proper place in the proper time. 
Eleven minutes late, he was, so for each minute late – ten strokes of the cane. Applied immediately upon his arrival.


One hundred and ten strokes later (and still with a two hour spanking ahead):



I’ll let you guess the moral of the story.

–  Dana
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‘No Marks for Mr. Marks’ : New (free) F/M spanking video



Many of you are likely familiar with Mr. Marks’ blog imasecretspanko.blogspot.com
I had the pleasure of administering his first-ever spanking just a few months ago, and have been tickled to administer a couple more since. 


During a recent meeting, I thought it would be interesting to film a little spanking scene addressing a concern which Mr. Marks has discussed previously on his blog – marks. He was an excellent sport, and helped me prove my point beautifully. Enjoy!  


– Dana

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

F/M Spanking Story: ‘A Journey to the Mall’

Readers,


Sometimes really nice things, like earrings and silver dollars, slip through cracks. In this case, somehow an excellent F/M spanking story slipped through the cracks during the holiday season..and I felt compelled to share it with you now, anyway. I think you’ll agree that spanking is the same in every season.
Written by the VBB, the ongoing saga of Ann and David continues:


Enjoy!   – Dana

*****

   “A Journey to the Mall”           
  I glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, it seemed to be stuck on ten after three. Was this day every going to end? The afternoon seemed to drag on and on and on; all I wanted to do was to go home and spend the evening resting in my easy chair and go to bed early. Time slowly passed by as I tried to keep myself busy hoping that somehow time would  pass quickly and I could finally head home. All I could think of was going straight to our bedroom when I got home and crash on the bed. Won’t that be nice no phone calls, no emails, no one sticking their head in and asking stupid questions just a nice soft warm bed to lay on and rest.  Finally, I looked at the clock and saw it was 4:30 P.M it was finally time to head home. I was hoping by some miracle the holiday traffic would not be too bad and I could get home without much difficulty. As I headed towards the highway my hope was crushed as I saw a long line of cars slowly making their way onto the barely moving highway. I sat back in my seat and gave in to the reality that I was in for one long frustrating journey home. Unfortunately getting home in heavy traffic not was the only thing that would go wrong for me that evening.
                When I finally pulled up to the house I gave a massive sigh of relief, I had finally made it home and it only took an extra 45 minutes. I was so happy to be home that as I made my way into the house I yelled out to Ann “Honey I’m home and I am exhausted I’m going straight to bed.” Ann yelled back “Oh I am so glad you made it home, I was afraid you would be stuck in traffic all night.” Go upstairs and change, I want to take a trip to the Grapevine Mall tonight to pick up a new dress for a meeting I have in the morning. We can stop and grab a bite to eat at the Texas Roadhouse after we are done shopping, it will be a fun evening.” I just stood there for a moment, had I heard her right?  Did Ann just tell me she wanted to go shopping tonight and did she really say we would have “fun”? Didn’t she realize the mall is a 45 minute drive in decent traffic? It will be at least an hour and twenty minutes in this holiday traffic. I walked into the study where Ann was working on the computer “Ann, I am really tired I really don’t want to go shopping tonight especially at the mall. What so important that you need to run out and get a new outfit tonight? Why can’t you just wear something that you already have?”  “I have a very important meeting with a new client in the morning and if the meeting goes well, we will make more money with this one account than we will with all the other accounts combined. It is important I look my very best tomorrow.” I looked at Ann and mumbled “I don’t see why you can’t just wear that red dress you have hanging in the closet. You look really nice in it and besides I am really tired and all I want to do is go to bed early. If you really have to go, why don’t you just go by yourself?” She replied “David I really want you to go with me, we will get my dress and then have a nice dinner. I promise you we will have a fun evening, now stop complaining and go change so we can go; it will be nice to spend the evening together.” “I already told you I don’t want to go. I can’t see why we need to go all the way to the Grapevine Mall just to get a stupid dress for some new client that won’t even care what you are wearing.” Ann looked up from the computer “David I suggest you change your attitude right this minute and go up stairs and get ready to go, do you understand me?” I looked at Ann for a moment contemplating whether I should say something else, but the look Ann gave me told me I had better keep my mouth shut. I turned around and promptly walked out of the office mumbling to myself how I was not going to go to the mall. As I headed up to our room I decided I was not going to go. So I kicked off my boots and laid on the bed determined not to be bullied by Ann and forced to go to the Mall.
“What do you think you are doing? Get up right now and get changed. I told you over a half hour ago to get ready and I come up here and find you asleep? I should take you across my knee right now and give you a good spanking with the hairbrush. You are just lucky I don’t have time to give you a good spanking. Now get up and let’s go. I expect you to be in the car in five minutes.” I was angry as I opened the car door; I did not say anything to Ann as I slammed the door. Ann looked over at me and gave me a warning look and said “I hope you don’t plan on having an attitude tonight, you won’t like the result of what will happen if you don’t straighten up.” I gave her a sideways glance and put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway a bit faster than I should have. Ann just gave me another look and said “I see we are going to have a problem with your attitude tonight.” The traffic was even heavier than I feared. Ann reached over and changed the radio to a station that was playing 24 hour Christmas music. As The song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” started playing, a car pulled out in front of me as I tried to change lanes. I started yelling at the driver “yea have a freaking merry little Christmas to you to idiot.”  I looked over at Ann and said “See I told you this was a stupid idea we should have stayed home instead of trying to go to the mall this evening in this mess”. Ann simply looked at me and said with a commanding tone “That’s enough David.” This was Ann’s way of telling me I was about to cross the line and was about to get myself in trouble. I had learned when Ann said, “That’s enough” I had better stop whatever I was doing; otherwise I would face some very unpleasant consequences. Unfortunately, I decided to push her a bit more today and instead of keeping my mouth shut I decided to add another smart comment under my breath. Ann gave me a disbelieving look and just shook her head “Ok I see we need to take care of your attitude.” My stomach jumped just a bit and I thought about apologizing but I was still upset so I kept my mouth shut and sulked rest of the way to the mall.
                When we finally arrived at the mall I was tired and my mood had become even worse. Even though I had stopped making comments I let Ann know how unhappy I was by my attitude. As we exited the car I slammed the car door and headed towards the mall without waiting for Ann. By the time I reached the mall entrance I looked back and saw Ann walking towards me. She had a very determined look on her face which made me feel a bit unsettled. I have seen that look before, usually when I was about to receive a good hard spanking. I waited for her to reach the entrance and as she did I opened the door for her; I gave her a small smile hoping that I could somehow manage to make up for my previous attitude. However, I was soon to find out I had pushed her to far this evening. What I thought was going to be a bad night at the mall would soon turn out to be a very bad night at the mall. Ann walked past me and said coldly as she walked through the door “We need to stop by the restroom before we go shopping.” I rolled my eyes at her and mumbled “of course we do.” That was the last straw. Ann stopped and looked directly in my eyes “David, I don’t understand why you have to be so nasty this evening, all I wanted to do was to spend some time together tonight. I know you do not like coming to the mall especially after you have worked all day and to be honest I would rather be home myself, but this is very important for me. I was hoping we could make the best of this situation. I was planning on getting what I needed and then go out for a nice dinner. But I guess I was expecting too much from you. All I wanted was a little understanding and support from you” I stood there for a moment, thinking about what she said. I did feel bad about my attitude but sometimes I am thick headed and instead of apologizing I said something which I immediately knew was the wrong thing to say. I quickly mumbled “yea right.” I knew instantly that it was the absolutely wrong thing to say. I stood there for a moment trying desperately to think of something to say that could somehow fix what I had just said. Ann’s eyes grew big and her face turned as red as my bottom would soon be. She turned and walked through the door. I don’t think I have ever seen her so mad. I knew at that moment that not only had I crossed the line but I was in more trouble than I had been in a while.
                As we walked towards the women’s restroom, I stopped by the water fountain and was planning on waiting for her. But instead of going into the ladies room she turned and walked towards the family restroom. As she opened the door to the family restroom, she looked back towards me and motioned me over with her index finger. I looked at her for a moment not sure what she wanted or why she was standing in the doorway of the family restroom. I slowly walked over to her and I noticed that she was still very upset; I looked down at the ground and nervously walked up to her. She grabbed my arm and ushered me into the bathroom and closed the door behind us. I heard her lock the door, I was about to learn there is more than one use for the family restroom at the mall. She just stood there for a moment looking at me, I could not tell if she was thinking about what she was going to say or if she was waiting for me to say something. After a few moments I started to say something but Ann cut me off with a stern look. The look was a combination of anger and hurt and I could tell that my attitude this evening had really set her off. She was doing everything she could to maintain her composure. She finally let out a big sigh and said “I don’t know what you were thinking; I guess you thought you could be disrespectful and hurtful this evening and nothing was going to happen. Well I have news for you mister, you thought wrong and you are about to find out what happens when you decide to outright defy me.” With that she placed her handbag on the counter and pulled out the old hairbrush she received as a wedding gift.
She turned towards me and simply said “drop them” I looked at her for a moment wondering if she was serious. I was about to say something to her but I saw the look in her eye and I knew I had better do what she said. So I slowly unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants and hesitantly lowered my pants. Ann stood there looking at me and raised her eyebrow indicating that she was waiting for me to pull my shorts down also. I timidly looked at the floor and slowly tucked my thumbs into the waistband of the shorts and little by little pulled them down. When I had pulled my pants and shorts down to my ankles she pointed to the counter “place you hands on the counter.” I shuffled over to the counter and bent over placing my hands about a shoulder length apart and looked into the mirror. I could see Ann moving to my left side with the hairbrush in her hand. Being the bathroom was a family bathroom she had plenty of room to swing her arm without worrying about hitting anything. I caught a glimpse of Ann’s face in the mirror and I could tell she was very upset. Even though we had only been married a few months I have learned to interpret Ann’s looks and what I saw at that moment told me that I was in for a really hard and painful spanking.
                Ann bent over slightly and patted my right cheek with the hairbrush. I felt the cool wooden back of the hairbrush and a chill went up my spine. I stood there trembling waiting for Ann to apply the first swat with the hairbrush. It seemed like an eternity before Ann brought the hairbrush down on my bottom. I instantly stiffened as I felt the stinging of the hairbrush on the surface of my bottom followed by a slight warming sensation deeper into my flesh. The sound of the hairbrush slamming into my soft bottom ricocheted off the tile walls and the titles amplified the sound as it bounced around the room. As the sound of the swat echoed off the walls it was so loud that I was sure everyone who was walking past could hear it. I looked back at Ann and said “Honey everyone can hear that” the only reply I received were two more hard swats to the same spot where she landed the first one. The echoing sound of the swat and my cries intermixed and bounced around the restroom. I was certain the sound was so loud that someone would start banging on the door wanting to know what was going on in there. I think Ann might have felt the same way as she paused for about thirty seconds. After the sound died down I held my breath for a moment hoping she would not continue. After a few more seconds she let loose with a long string of quick hard and painful swats with the hairbrush. Usually Ann is very focused with her swats choosing just the right place for the hairbrush to land. But this time she just let loose and allowed the hairbrush to land wherever it wanted. She did not give the swats anytime to register at all before she allowed the next swat to land with a sounding smack. Usually Ann is very stern about me moving during a spanking but today she did not seem to care. She just kept spanking me one swat after another. The sound of the relentless swats landing on my bare bottom and my increasingly loud shouts of pain filled the restroom with a strange crescendo of bitter music of wood slapping flesh and my echoing cries of pain. The pain was building so fast that I stopped worrying about whether anyone in the mall could hear what was happening. As the swats were getting harder I started moving around more which was a big mistake, as Ann was not going to slow down at all.  All my moving did was to allow the back of the hairbrush to find new and fresh areas to land their stinging blows. I began crying out loud “I’m sorry Ann, really I am” “What are you sorry about David”  “I am sorry for my bad attitude and for being disrespectful” as I talked Ann increased the intensity of the strokes. “Are you going to change your attitude?” “Yes ma’am” was all I was able to get out as the swats from the hairbrush were landing harder and faster. The stinging from each slap overlapped the previous sting so that my entire bottom felt as though it was on fire. “Please Ann I’m so sorry ….. I will change my behavior, please stop.” Finally Ann brought the stinging blows to an end. My bottom was so red and hot that when I reached back to rub my bum it felt as though I had placed my hand on a hot plate.  I looked into the mirror and saw a few tears forming in the corners of my eyes. As I looked past my reflection in the mirror I saw Ann putting the old wooden hairbrush back into her handbag. She then turned around and said “All right David are you ready to behave yourself now?” I answered “Yes Ma’am, I’m sorry for my attitude and for being disrespectful to you, I didn’t mean to ruin this evening.” “Thank you David, I appreciate your apology, now pull up your pants and let go do what we come here for.   
                The rest of the evening was much better, Ann found a stunning dress for her meeting the following day and we ate a great dinner at the Texas Roadhouse. It was already 9:30 when we headed back to the car to head home and even then the holiday traffic was still bad.  As we slowly inched our way onto the highway Ann gave me a sideway glance.  I smiled at her and said “Isn’t it wonderful that we are able to spend the entire evening together?” An hour later we finally arrived home, as we were walking into the house Ann patted me on my bum and said “See didn’t I tell you we would have fun this evening at the mall?” I turned around and gave Ann a small kiss “Yes honey, we sure did have fun this evening.” Ann smiled as I headed up the stairs carrying her new dress and sporting one red and very tender bottom.




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

Photos and Preview from ‘Masturbation: A Real Bitch’ – New F/M premium video


Can you imagine waking up at 2 a.m. and wondering where your spouse is? 
Can you picture yourself  wandering blearily downstairs, expecting to find him having a late-night snack?
Can you guess what you’d do if you walked quietly past his office and, noticing a glow from the computer screen, gently pushed the door open…to find him masturbating furiously to dirty videos?

Here’s what I did:

Masturbation : A Real Bitch
I hope you enjoy the screenshots, and to
download the twelve-plus minute video, click the link below:

For a short free preview, click the link below:



For POV fans, there’s also an addendum video:
(POV) Masturbation: A Real Bitch
available for download.


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

New free F/M spanking video: 200 for the VBB



As regular readers well know, I often play with a couple to whom I refer as the Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife. On a recent visit, we thought that it would be a fun idea to make a ‘Product Testing on the Road’ video, using one of the more heinous implements which Cane-iac produces – the Twisted Delrin Loop.
This is an implement which I would not even consider using on many playmates, but the VBB is an exception to nearly every rule when it comes to tolerance. Therefore, I decided that two hundred strokes of the loop would be appropriate.
He admitted afterward that after only thirty strokes he was afraid that he wouldn’t make it, and had tears in his eyes by the 100 mark. I knew he would…because his WW was standing just outside camera range. That’s excellent inspiration.


Note: While there is no blood-letting, this is a somewhat intense scene. Those who prefer the softer side of spanking play may choose to opt out of viewing.


Enjoy!   – Dana

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

Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Six



Readers,


For the last few months, I have been corresponding with a delightful lady who’s exploring her spanking interest after many years of being in the closet, so to speak. Recently she asked my opinion on:


Topping from the Bottom.  


Naturally, I have one..
I told my new friend that (at least in the context of my play) topping from the bottom is moot. For me, spanking is always consensual. We  may role-play that you’re reluctant to receive your spanking, or that you’re a terrible and incorrigible brat, but the real truth is that the only reason I have the great pleasure of spanking my playmates is that they allow me to do so. Therefore, if they choose to brat, talk back, or generally try and control the scene, it is my job as top to discourage said behavior both verbally and physically. Topping from the bottom is impossible if I am in control, and the bottom’s attempts to do so are not only amusing, but welcome.


My ‘bottom’ line? Without a bottom, there’d be no need for a top.


Tell me your opinion – what are your experiences (spankers and spankees alike) and opinions on ‘topping from the bottom’. Please share your thoughts in the comment box below.


– Dana

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

POV Lecture Series: Teacher/Student (and more free videos coming this week!)


Readers,

This week I’ll be editing and sharing two videos which I recorded during my recent travels, each starring one of my lovable playmates. Just as soon as I have them edited and uploaded, I’ll be placing them here on my blogsite. You’ll LOVE watching the VBB take a long, hard punishment…while Mr. Marks helps me show that spanking doesn’t have to equal marking. Stay tuned for these fun, free videos.   – Dana

P.S. If you haven’t entered your story in the ‘Bedtime Story’ contest, click HERE for guidelines.

***

The newest addition to my premium video store is:


The POV Lecture Series
  – Teacher/Student  –


You’ve been very badly-behaved, young man! It’s time for you to learn some valuable lessons.
Gentlemanly Behavior is absolutely required in my classroom, and you’ve been anything but ‘gentlemanly’. 
You’ll receive a stern lecture from me and prepare yourself for the discipline you deserve.


To download the video, visit: 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Ma’am, Yes Ma’am, Spanking Sites and Reader Recommendations



What has happened to our wonderful wdspoone (Tom) and his Ma’am, Yes Ma’am blog?…
He’s been removed. He says that Google told him that he was suspected of spamming, then he found that his blog was deleted due to ‘violence’. 
Tom’s setting up his new blog at maamyesmaam.wordpress.com  – make sure to subscribe.

*****



A correspondent (not the first) recently recommended the Disciplinary Wives Club, and I think you’ll agree that it’s worth more than a glance:



*****



Hogspy lists various news and travel notices for mistresses worldwide:






*****





Otto recently turned a screengrab from my recent video ‘Lingerie OTK’ into a piece of art, which I absolutely love:



Please feel free to leave your recommendations for other spanking enthusiasts in the comment box below.    –  Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘In Awe of the Cane’ : F/M spanking verse from UK Laureate


Readers,

Our UK Laureate has perfected the art of spanking verse, as evidenced here, once again, in ‘In Awe of the Cane’. Please take a moment to comment (or Love it) in appreciation for his talent and willingness to share it with us – without he and the other wonderful contributing authors, this blog would be much less colorful.    
 –  Dana


*****

In Awe of the Cane

The slipper, hand and hairbrush are all good
For spanking bums when perched across the knee;
There’s leather whips and paddles made of wood,
But, best of all, the cane if you ask me.
The strap and crop can both be used with pride, 
And tawses too and birches that I’ve seen:
There’s instruments galore to tan our hide
But o’er them all the rattan cane’s the Queen.

That golden rod, a slender pliant wand,
It thrills my mind and makes my pulses race;
It may sound strange to say of it I’m fond
When, put to use, there’s anguish on my face.
But yet this fact I gladly here confess:
The rattan’s a magnet that just draws me in;
Its strokes may tease when given with finesse,
Or cause great hurt when used to punish sin.

It waits in the closet, hung on a hook,
Silent and brooding, an ominous tool;
Sharp and severe, be it straight or with crook,
Ideal equipment for women who rule.
In their hands that cane provides the best means
For ultimate pain and pleasure combined.
I oh so adore those correction scenes
Where both top and bottom fulfilment find.

I watch as she bends the cane to an arc, 
Stressing its menace now right at the start;
I know that rod will quite soon make its mark,
My body the canvas for inventive art.
Red is her colour, I know that for sure –
She paints lines and stripes with consummate skill;
Each stroke of the brush brings pain to endure
While holding my breath and (just) keeping still.

In flight the cane makes a high piercing whine –
With loud hissing swish it cuts through the air;
Whose bottom now will feel its effect? Mine!
And yes, of course, without a doubt, it’s bare;
That way I’ll feel its penetrating sting
That courses through my body like a storm
And takes me to heights, my mind on the wing,
Away from the humdrum, far from the norm.


She starts with aplomb, a salvo of strokes
That hurt my backside and startle my brain;
“A nice gentle start,” with laughter she jokes,
Then whips down that cane again and again.
The next strokes come now, all spread down my thighs,
And then she lands one right over the crease –
Ouch! That accurate swipe caught me by surprise,
Plumb on the sweet-spot – oh stinging, please cease!

But there is no pause, no time to reflect,
She’s now on a roll, in tune with my need,
Another stroke lands, I feel the effect
As it bites on my flesh with light’ning speed.
Four dozen the tariff initially set,
Her mind was made up my backside to burn,
A caning harsh I know I won’t forget
But savour in ways I can’t yet discern.

The final six strokes, the hardest of all,
Are given quite slowly, fuelling the fire
That burns so harshly but holds me in thrall –
A cryptic mélange of hate and desire.
My body recoils, an uncontrolled writhe,
A gasp of distress, a shout of acclaim;
That sensuous stem, so springy and lithe,
Takes me yet higher, my senses aflame.

She too is astir, she tells me she feels
Excitement and pleasure, seeing my pain;
Gently she touches those fiery weals
She’s made with such care – she too loves the cane;
The kiss of the rod is her special gift,
An offering of pain to scare and delight,
Delivered with strokes both measured and swift
To tease and torment and passion ignite.

I’m in awe of the cane, its power and grace,
Its curvaceous beauty, mystique and sound, 
Distinctive tramlines, its stinging embrace,
All serve to produce a penchant profound.
To some that is strange, to others it’s clear,
For they too have kinks for which they give thanks;
Whatever our bent, we all can hold dear
Discipline given with beatings and spanks.


*****

Click HERE for more from UK Laureate
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘Cherry Pie’: New premium F/M video

‘Cherry Pie’

I cannot believe that he ate some of this cherry pie after I specifically told him not to touch it!


There is only one thing that I can do – and I think he’s asking for it.

Since he just HAD to have my cherry pie, I am going to force him to eat even more of it, while spanking him…hard.


Between my wooden spoon, hairbrush, and several forkfuls of pie, it’s not likely that he will be doing any more pie stealing anytime soon.


Don’t feel sorry for him, though. That pie was GREAT.


Enjoy the screengrabs, and download the video by clicking the link below:

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

New Contest: ‘The Bedtime Story’

Spanking Story Contest for February 2012
 
‘The Bedtime Story’
 
This naughty boy has been spanked hard and sent to bed.
After giving him some time to think about what he’s done, 
I go in to tuck him in and read him a bedtime story.
 
That’s where you come in:
I want you to write ‘The Bedtime Story’, which I’ll not only feature here, but will also read to him in an upcoming full-length, premium video.
Please read the guidelines very carefully:


–  No characters under eighteen (18) years of age.


–  No sex, no filthy language.


–  (For male entrants) Stop talking about your genitals!


–  Writing rules, such as spelling, grammar, and punctuation will be VERY important in this contest. ( I know that things like punctuation can be literarily subjective, and I know the difference when I see it.)


–  Your story may contain as many or as few characters as you’d like, and may depict any scene(s) of Female Top spanking (F/M or F/F)




Think about that poor boy, pictured above, who’s just had a very hard spanking and been sent off to bed to sniffle, while his bottom throbs. Think about what sort of story may soothe him, or make him laugh, or drift him into dreamland…

Think about the storybooks you enjoyed when you were younger:  Once upon a time, princesses, knights, ogres, big bad wolves, and happily ever after…and spanking, of course.

Email all story entries to me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.


The winning author will receive a free spanking session with me. I will also print, illustrate, and read the winning Bedtime Story in a future video.
All entries will be printed/excerpted here on my blogsite, and your submission means that you’re okay with sharing. (Naturally, your name and other personal information will be withheld.)


–  Entries will be accepted throughout the month of February, 2012, with the winner announced on March 1. 


–  The winning author may receive his/her prize in my home city of Las Vegas or in any of the other cities planned in my upcoming TRAVEL itinerary.


–  If you do not reside in, nor are you able to get yourself to, one of the above linked cities, please submit your entry as a non-contestant, so that the winner may actually receive his or her ‘prize’.

-By entering,  you agree to allow me to share your story, here and elsewhere.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

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

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


– Dana


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

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



‘Anthony’ wrote another excellent story for his entry to the  ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest. ‘You Count to Us’ is worth a read!


– Dana

*****


You Count to Us

Anthony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you done staring at my chest?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know my name?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you know what this is?”

He looked closer and his cheeks flushed.

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

He tried to form a cheeky response, appropriate words.

“Answer me, young man.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what it is.”

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

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

“Read it for me.”

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

“Louder please”

“I said play more poker”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your waist?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Waist. Your waist size.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed, then nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop wiggling,” she said.

“Oh f*&#^$” he moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Premium Video: ‘The POV Lecture Series’



I have received several requests for POV-type videos, featuring lecturing, scolding…and no spankee. Just an angry wife/teacher/doctor, etc. giving ‘you’ a stern talking-to, eye-to-eye, for your own good.


‘The POV Lecture Series’ is my answer to those requests. I will be taking on various, traditional ‘fantasy disciplinary roles’ in order to verbally convey just how very displeased I am with your behavior.
These will be solo dialogue videos (no spanking), shot in POV style.


The first installment of ‘The POV Lecture Series’ is:


–  Doctor/Patient  –


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


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


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


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


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

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

Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Five



Readers,


A fun subject which I have the great good fortune to discuss fairly regularly of late is the ‘Second-Day Spanking’. Many of the female tops with whom I communicate (the WW comes to mind, naturally) enjoy the great power (and slight sadism) involved in spanking an already sore bottom. We know that even that even the thought of being spanked on a sore and swollen bottom is terrifying…and that’s the point, isn’t it?   – I should interject here that it is a certainty that male tops enjoy spanking a sore bottom just as much as we ladies do.


Many spankos fantasize of near-endless spankings – spankings which go on for hours, or drag on all throughout the day and night – spankings which, frankly, most will never really be able to endure. (That’s why it’s such a great fantasy.)


A single spanking can only last so long, even with the most practiced top and bottom, as exhaustion will certainly eventually set in. Marathon spankings of two to three hours or more are for the most brave and formidable of players.


I much prefer the Second Day Spanking. Rather than trying to wear your hide down to the bone over the course of several hours, I enjoy the idea of allowing you to spend the evening sitting uncomfortably, knowing that morning holds the promise of more. You’ll have plenty of time to think about the swats of the previous night, along with the fear of many, many more to come, as you make your slow walk toward my lap. When I lower your underpants to reveal a still-pink bottom, I cannot contain my glee. I know that this is going to sting, like hellfire, from the very first smack.




If you have an experience or opinion on Second Day Spankings, please take a moment to leave your thoughts in the comment box below.


–  Dana

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

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

The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story writing contest turned up more than a few boys who’ve been off their diets. Here’s another sneaky snacker taught a lesson, in ‘Dana Kane’s Weight Loss Program’. Enjoy!


– Dana

*****


Dana Kane’s Weight Loss Program



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

Gambling Resolution: F/M Spanking Story

Gamblers beware! The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story contest will catch you, too, as the author of this fun story finds out…


– Dana

*****


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

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

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

Boy did I find out.

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

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



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

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

Stats on ‘The Other Stuff’ Survey



Here are a few of the results from ‘The Other Stuff’ Survey – with 213 responders thus far:


When asked which ‘other’ types of corporal punishment you’re interested in, you responded as follows
(number of respondents, followed by percentage of overall responses):

Flogging 84 42%
Single-tail/Whipping 54 27%
Face-Slapping 60 30%
Bastinado (google it) 16 8%
Punching 10 5%
Ballbusting 25 13%
All of these things sound awful. Please just spank me. 79 40%



The question regarding ‘other’ types of BDSM play ellicited the following responses:

Foot/Shoe Worship 61 30%
CBT 70 35%
Rope/restraint Bondage 82 41%
Confinement 21 10%
Sensory Deprivation 24 12%
Wax/Ice play 41 20%
Ass play 123 61%
Eek! No, thank you to all of the above.
36 18%


On voyeurism and exhibitionism, you said:

I enjoy watching others, but do not enjoy performing. 25 12%
I enjoy performing, but do not enjoy watching others. 6 3%
I love to watch AND participate. 90 42%
Play is private for me, always. 77 36%



The question on fetish items which you enjoy returned these results:

Rubber/latex 42 27%
Leather 87 56%
Hoods/masks 31 20%
Gloves 53 34%
Gags 50 32%
Thigh-high boots 72 46%
Stockings/pantyhose 101 65%

And finally, when asked about your lifetime number of playmates, you answered:

One 96 45%
2-5 17 8%
6-10 4 2%
10-20 8 4%
I get around. 10 5%

I

Thanks to everyone who has participated thus far…your cumulative replies always manage to interest and surprise me.

If you haven’t yet, please take a minute and include your responses, either through the above link or by clicking the ‘Survey’ page at the top of the blog page.


– Dana

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

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


‘Lingerie OTK’


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


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


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


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


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

http://clips4sale.com/50197



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


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

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



Readers,


I absolutely love this original entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest. The subject matter is unique, and the author’s tone is personal and engaging. Please enjoy ‘Snuffing out a Bad Habit’.


–  Dana

*****



Snuffing Out a Bad Habit


*A good day’s work, and it’s only 4:30.  Jim’s gonna be thrilled.  He’ll
owe me one.* I thought to myself while taking a leak.  Thump Thump wiggle
wiggle tuck zip flush.
I washed my hands in the sink, looked up into the mirror, straightening my
tie, *Yup, even under flourescent lights, still handso–  woops.* The
self-congratulatory thoughts were cut short when I smiled and saw it. There
in my teeth was a flake of Copenhagen.  *Dammit! Must’ve been  there since
just after lunch- wonder how many people at the conference table noticed?
Don’t kid yourself- all of them.*
***
“Daddy, what’s this?” my five year old asked, holding up an empty can of
dip.


“Uh, it’s uhm one of Daddy’s things. Thank you.” I said, taking it from him.


“Hey, I was gonna use it as an artifact for the lego explorers!”


My son watches too many “educational” cartoons, I guess.  But it did look
like it could be a cool artifact. The shiny gold metal lid with raised
writings and symbols… But then I saw my wife Lauren give me a look.  I’m
not always the best at interpreting those looks, but this one was clearly
disapproving.


“No, this goes in the Daddy closet with the tools. Sorry bud.”


“Aw, man!”


And just to make sure I understood, my lovely wife gave me a good uhm,
“chewing” out about how she hopes our boys never pick up that disgusting
habit, oh, and by the way when was I going to grow up?!


****


Then there were the yahoo health articles on mouth cancer left up on
the computer,
and the comment about Roger Ebert, and the looks every time someone
mentioned anything about cancer.


Dipping tobacco was a nasty habit. Not as bad as smoking- my clothes and
car didn’t smell bad, nor did it affect my ability to jog, but it was a bad
habit that I wanted / needed to quit.  A remnant of both my country
upbringing and my fraternity days that if I’m being honest was a full blown
addiction. I’d tried to quit before, and had a couple of times. I quit for
30 days before the life insurance physical… Then promptly put in a nice
big fat celebratory dip for having done so.


I tried to be discrete, because I knew my wife didn’t like it, and didn’t
want the boys to know.  But in the car, in the john, working outside in the
yard, those increasing rare days playing golf… I had a dip in. Plus it
had become increasingly expensive in the last few years.


It was time.


Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, plus I’d
tried twice before and when I went back to it, my wife was livid. Not that
I planned on failing to quit, but based on that experience, I wasn’t
planning on telling her about it either. Starting with the new year, I’d
quit. Well, okay, starting Monday the 2nd. (New Years Day was a holiday,
right?)


A lot of gum chewing, but the first day wasn’t that bad.  The second day was.
The third day was even worse. So much for not making a big deal of it and
keeping it to myself. My wife knew because I was grumpy and in a foul mood
and didn’t touch the beers in the fridge.  (I knew from previous attempts
that alcohol was a quick way to lose this battle.)


“Honey I am sooo proud of you. I know you’re strong enough to make it stick
this time. I’m so happy!  No more little flakes of dried dip when I sweep,
no more spit bottles I find out in the garage, no more half empty cans you
try to hide but forget about until I find them.  Come here, how about a big
kiss on those clean lips!” Lauren went on and on…


“Enough!” I roared. The last think I wanted to talk about was dipping, I
was trying to block all thought of it from my mind.


But somehow three days led to a week, one week led to another, and though the
craving never left, I was through the worst of it and had made it over a
month.


****


It was early February and I was about to start on our taxes. I have a small
study in our home that’s really more like a large closet. I’ve always done
my own taxes, and doing them online was fairly simple. I keep fairly well
organized and was almost done but was finishing and couldn’t find our kids’
social security numbers, dangit!  I opened the bottom drawer of my little
desk and dug around in the files- the paper copy from last year was in here
somewhere…
CLINK, rattle, rattle, rattle…


One of those half empty cans of dip I’d forgotten about fell off a
stack of papers and made its distinctive sound as it histthe bottom of
the drawer.  I stared at it.
 I picked it up.  I opened it up and took a long deep sniff.  Mmmm… It
was mostly dried out -who knows how long it had been there-
But it sure smelled good.


Then I closed the lid and slid the can back across the desk. Nope. It took
me about an hour more finishing up and double checking before finally clicking
“submit” and being done with it. (Well, done with it except for having
Lauren “sign” it too with her email.)


I felt pretty good about myself, and had plans for the refund.  Walking
around the house in my socks, I checked and everyone was soundly asleep.
Our littlest had somehow made his way into our bed and was snuggled up with
my wife.  Cute.


Down to the kitchen I went to grab a couple of beers and some chips before
heading back up to my study. Long week, taxes done, temptation resisted…
I was going to enjoy myself looking at spanking videos on the computer. Oh
yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that. My wife and I are both into
spanking. Just foreplay, basically, but pretty intense and kinky foreplay I
suppose. Occasionally we’d incorporate real transgressions to spice it up,
but we didn’t live a domestic discipline lifestyle, by any means- most
spankings involved roleplay, which led to great sex.  (A lot less frequent
with little ones running around, though.)


So I undid my pants, twisted the bottle cap off, and settled in for some
happy personal time.


One beer (and one mess cleaned off my stomach) later, I looked at the can
on the back of the desk where I’d pushed it away earlier.  It wasn’t going
anywhere, just waiting for me.  Maybe I should just finish it off. Not like
I stopped at a convenience store to get a can.  It just basically (almost
literally) fell into my lap. It was mostly dry, so I wouldn’t enjoy it
much.  But I should finish it off before I had it tempt me everytime I came
up here to get work done, right?


****


“Isn’t it a little early for spring cleaning, honey?”


“I don’t care. We haven’t had a free weekend in over a month, and this
house is FINALLY going to get really clean, not just staightened up.  Have
you SEEN behind the boys’ toilet?”


No getting in Lauren’s way when she’s determined to clean. She’d go
through a box of swiffers and half a bottle of windex today, I was sure.


I came back from running errands and the house smelled like lemons and
disinfectant.


“Honey I have a lot more to do, but we have that birthday party for the
Smith’s son at 2:00.  Would you mind taking the kids? ‘No gifts’ so I just
got him a cookie from cookie bouquet. It’s already wrapped.”


“No problem. How much more cleaning can you do, though?  House looks and
smells great already.”


“I haven’t even touched organizing the play room or your study.”


*Crap, I got rid of the can last night, didn’t I?!* I thought to myself.
 On the outside, I said,
“You’ve done enough sweetie, there’s no point going upstairs. You know how
I organize our files, and the boys playroom will stay organized and clean
for about 5 minutes- max.”


“I’m on a roll and not stopping, hon.  But if you’re worried about the
house being too clean… We can make a big mess in our bedroom tonight
-MeeMaw wants the kids to spend the night!” she said, snuggling up for a
kiss.


“Mmm, and its been awhile since this got any attention,” I said, squeezing
her bottom.


“Down boy! You’re right, but first you have to go to a Batman party.” She
said with a smirk and gave me a little squeeze of her own.


I high-tailed it up to the study and doubled checked that I’d thrown the
can away. Whew!


Then off to the Batman party. I felt sorry for the guy dressed up as
Batman. Somehow the dark knight making balloon animals just seemed a little
sad.  But the kids had fun, and did the usual small talk with all the other
dads, all of whom were equally miserable. Kids were excited to spend the
night with MeeMaw, and I was excited they’d be spending the night with
MeeMaw too!


On the way home I went over in my head possibilities for tonight. Go out?
Cook at home?  Weird… Lauren always answers the phone, but she
hadn’t when I called on the way to MeeMaw’s and wasn’t answering now
either. Irritating.


***


“Honey? What’s going on?  Why aren’t you answering your phone? You know
that’s one of my pet pee-“


“I’m in here.” She called out from our bedroom.


“Oh, you were in the shower -got it- hey wait, that mustve been an awfully
long shower! I called you almost an hour ago!” I yelled to the other end of
the house.


“I know. I didn’t answer because I was angry.” She hollered back.


*Dammit-What now?! Did she not appreciate that I’d just suffered through
not just a preschool birthday party but her mom’s 20 minute conversation
about Aunt Sarah too?!*  I made my way to our bedroom and stopped short
when I saw her. Nude, she still took my breath away. Her gorgeous hourglass
figure shimmered.  The setting sun’s light coming in through the window
caught the drops of water covering her body. My eyes were drawn
involuntarily to her dark triangle and then her breasts wobbling as she
towelled off her hair. What was I irritated about again?


But when I looked up, her smile was missing.


“I didn’t answer your calls because I was angry. I’m not angry anymore but
we need to talk.” She said calmly.


*Uh-oh.*


“Care to explain this?”


She handed me a swiffer with some dust bunnies and lots of little brown
specks stuck to it.


*Uh-oh.*


“Those look like dip flakes sweetie but they’re pretty old and dry. When
was the last time you cleaned the study?” Notice how I didn’t deny it but
tried to parry the implied accusation?


“Nice try.  I cleaned it in January… AFTER you quote quit.” She said,
making air-quotes with her fingers as she went back into the bathroom. .


She returned and had put on her robe and was carrying her hairbrush.


*Uh-oh. *


She sat down on our bed and patted it just beside her, indicating she
wanted me to take a seat as well.


“I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself. You’re just going to dig a
bigger hole for you to have to crawl out of.  But don’t interrupt me.  I’ve
been practicing what I want to say in my head.  While I was in the study,
and after I’d calmed down a bit I looked up quitting nicotine on the
computer. Turns out the average quitter is successful on their sixth
attempt to quit. This is your third time, but you’re above average,
right?  Ah- don’t interrupt.
 Also read that an occasional slip up is fairly common and doesn’t
necessarily  mean that the effort to quit has been in vain. Look I want to
do everything I possibly can to encourage you.  This is a big deal.  I
want you sitting on the rocking chair on the porch with me when we’re
old and wrinkly, and you won’t make it to old and wrinkly unless you
quit. So I’m going to give you a spanking, and it’s gonna be a good
one.”


“Wait, I-“


“Ah-  what did I say about interrupting? My mind’s made up but I
really want you to hear me out.  This is not a punishment spanking,
but an encouraging one. We don’t do punishment spankings- well, except
for that time I got too drunk at that wedding- but I want to help you,
help us, win this battle. I want for the spanking to be bad enough
that the next time your tempted to backslide, your backside will
scream ‘No!’ So… Now you get to talk. Do you have anything to add?”


“Not really. Sorry sweetie. Yup, I was guilty of backsliding, as you
called it. And I don’t want to again. ”   I thought about arguing or
getting out of it, and I probably could have, but truthfully I really
wanted to quit, and probably deserved this as punishment but if she
wanted to call it encouragement, so be it.


“Alright then, honey, come on.” I stood in front of her and let her
undo my belt and pants, pulling them down. As she pulled my underwear
down too, I had my natural reaction to an upcoming spanking and her
face positioned just in front of my crotch.  I couldn’t resist; “But
why not encourge me with a carrot instead of a stick?”


“Oh honey,” she said grabbing me, “there’ll be plenty of time to have
some fun with your carrot later. First though, it’s over my knees you
go.”


Her bathrobe parted, and her thighs were still a bit damp as she
adjusted me a little.


SMACK SMACK SMACK!


She started awfully strong. “Hey, what happened to a warm up?!”


“This [SMACK] is [SMACK] a warmup. I’m not using the hairbrush yet.”


On and on the “warmup” continued. Rapidly it became hot and
uncomfortable, then outright started to really hurt.  Before too long,
she picked up the hairbrush and continued at the same pace. I was
tensing and groaning with each searing spank. She didn’t lecture, but
told me in a soothing voice how much she loved me and how she knew I
could do it but just SPLAT wanted SMACK to give me SMACK WHACK all the
CRACK encouragement WHAP she could.


Usually our spankings were given with the spankee naked, and it was
kind of different to have my boots still on and my jeans around my
ankles. It meant I couldn’t really kick, just took it and took it and
took the pain some more. (With lots of growling and gripping the
bedspread so tight my knuckles were white thrown into the mix too.)


Finally she relented, and patting my butt told me to get up and take
off my clothes. Carrot time? I wondered.


“Up on the bed. On your knees, I want your face down on the pillow.”
Guess not.  She fondled my bottom, poked a couple of bad spots, then
using her nails and then a finger moistened in her mouth fondled and
teased my whole throbbing bottom, even my bottom hole.
I just groaned feeling the mixture of pleasure, pain, and relief that
she wasn’t inflicting even more pain.


“You know, I think just a little more encouragement is needed where I
missed some spots here, here, and right in here too,” She said, ever
so sweetly, “stay put, honey, I’ll be right back!”


And she was, carrying the long thin wooden kitchen spoon.


“I’m getting a little warm with all this encouragement,” she said,
shucking her bathrobe, and hopping on the bed in front of me. She
spread her knees and crawled toward me, tantalizing me but then kept
going past my head until she was straddling my back on her knees.


“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, we were encouraging all of your bottom
not to be tempted to dip again.  Even these parts of your bottom
[snap, snap] and these parts [snap, snap!] And even this little cute
part right [snap!] here!”
Each little strike was intense and stung as she got the insides of my
cheeks and thighs. In my current position I couldn’t even really tense
up and avoid them easily. Over and over again the little snaps of the
spoon stung my tender parts until I was on the verge of tears. Just
when I truly. Could not take any more, she sat down on my back.
“Okay honey, do you think your bottom will be screaming ‘NO!’ the next
time your tempted?”


“Yes” was all I could groan in response.


“Let’s make double sure!” And then she proceeded to spank me all over
with rapid-fire blows of the spoon that did send me over the edge to
tears.


Next thing I realized, she had scooted up in front of me again, her
legs still spread.


“Honey, I love you, and I had to do that for you, and for us.”


She leaned over and wiped my tears and kissed my face and rubbed her
hand in my hair.


“It’s almost time to take care of your carrot, but first, before we
finish this, let’s give those healthy lips some exercize.” She said
with a smile, pulling my face toward her.


My lips (and my carrot) got plenty of exercize that night. I can’t say
that I’ve QUIT dipping- I now think it’s more of a lifetime struggle
against temptation, but it’s been a couple more months now and so far,
so good. At least I have my loving wife there to “encourage” me when I
need it!

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

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



Product Testing with Dana Kane: Purple Heart Bottom Burner




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

 
 


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


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

Excellent F/M Spanking Story

Here’s a fun entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story contest. My thanks again to the author (and all the rest!) for contributing.


– Dana

*****


I Broke My New Year’s Resolution

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

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

“What does your therapy involve?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Dr. Sue,” I quickly replied.

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

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

“Ouch!  That really hurts!” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I reluctantly bent over and grabbed the wooden handles.

SWAT!

“One.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

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

SWAT!

“Two.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

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

“Yes, Dr. Sue.”

SWAT!

“Three.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

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

“Yes, Dr. Sue.”

SWAT!

“Four.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

SWAT!

“Five.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”

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

SWAT!

“Six.  Thank you, Dr. Sue.”  

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

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

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

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


‘Dirty Little Pervert’

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

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

What follows is exactly what he deserved.


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


Followed by twenty-four strokes with the ferocious three-tail leather strap.

He was left writhing and moaning by the time it was over, and it’ll be a couple days before he thinks of touching anyone’s backside but his own!



Watch the video  here: 


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

Resolution Story

Readers,


I received so many wonderful original story entries in the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest that it was even more difficult than ever to decide on only one winner. Another very worthy entry is the untitled story below…yet another reason to stick to your commitments. I know you’ll enjoy it..


– Dana

*****


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

Fun Bloggers and Friends



Readers,


Although I sometimes get a little ‘behind’, there are lots of people and places on the web who I try to visit on a regular basis. 
These are all folks who, in their own corners of the web, are working for a more familiar, cohesive internet spanking community. Some are new friends, and some are famous (infamous?), and I am grateful for each and every one of them.




Spanky at Bright Bottom chronicles his (M/F) spanko relationship with much humor. 


Ken and Cora at Spanked by my Lady are now making videos! (F/M, FLDD)


–  Miss Elsa Svenson’s Spanking Board, an active, free-to-join discussion board(U.K.)




The lovely Ms. Erica Scott – take a look at her new spankinglibrary.com store (M/F)


Mr. Marks at Secret Spanko has an interesting perspective on the spanking lifestyle. (F/M, M/F)


Michael at Disciplined Behaviour writes beautifully. (M/F)


Red Rump and his fantastic artwork will impress you. I promise. 


Cane Master and Cane Mistress at Cane-iac.com – these two are wonderful, real-life spanking enthusiasts with a serious knack for woodworking.


Pandora Blake’s blog, and Dreams of Spanking website are both beautiful and intelligent. (M/F, F/M, M/M, F/F)


Bonnie at Bottom Smarts. In a word: comprehensive.


There are so many creative spanko sorts out there – feel free to tell us about other great sites/blogs out there (including yours!), in the comment box below.


– Dana

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

Original F/M Spanking Fiction: ‘The Predicament’



Another fine entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest, “The Predicament” is so well-written, you’d think it actually happened exactly this way.  (In reality, he has less than one week left to maintain his weight goal, and I am confident that he will.)   Enjoy!


– Dana

 
“The Predicament”


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

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

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

The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story writing contest was another opportunity for our UK Laureate to showcase his talent. I think you’ll agree that he’s outdone himself, once again..

Click for More from UK Laureate

*****




An Ode to New Year Resolutions

By UK Laureate


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A new Clips4Sale store for Dana Kane



Readers,


My oft-postponed Clips4Sale store is now live, and I’m pretty pleased with it thus far. Take a look:



You’ll notice many of the videos which have been viewable here on my blogsite, now available for download. 


I will also begin adding premium videos exclusively to the clips4sale store, with previews and still photos here free, naturally.


” IT : A POV Lesson in Marital Obedience ” will be the first premium spanking video release, and I am hoping that those who watch it enjoy it as much as I did making it. Look for ‘IT’ later this week.


As always, I am interested in your feedback, so feel free to leave your comments below, or email me at: 


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com 


– Dana


And a new banner:

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

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



Readers,


Another example of the great stories submitted by you, this same-named entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest is a cautionary tale in overspending. My thanks to the author, and all the rest.  Enjoy!


– Dana

*****


I Broke My New Year’s Resolution


I made a resolution to improve my finances.  You see, I tend to make mistakes that do not help my finances.  First of all, I do not balance my checkbook.  Once I make a deposit, I glance at the receipt, and that’s all I do.

Second, I tend to put almost everything on my credit card.  That has worked well in the past, but I have only paid the minimum payment, and now I am near my credit limit.

Also, I like buying the new gadgets all of the time.  It makes me feel good to have all of the newest and greatest stuff.  This way I can be very proud and show my new gadgets to my friends.

I do have a good job I like doing, but I tend to live from paycheck to paycheck.  So with the New Year coming up, I have just found out my credit cards are maxed out, and I have very little in the bank.  My resolution is to balance my checkbook and to pay down my credit cards.

Everything worked well until the third week in January when a new model of a phone came out.  I went to the cellphone store to buy it, and I got a surprise.  When I went to pay for it, all three of my credit cards were declined.  Next I tried to pay for it with a check, and my check didn’t go thru.  The store also had a payment plan, and I filled out an instant application.  To my surprise, that was declined too.  I guess with my credit cards maxed out, they made my credit rating very low.

Then what did me in, was the next day, I got a notice in the mail from my bank, saying I was overdrawn.  Now I was desperate.  What was I going to do?

So I called a helpline center, and talked to them about what I could do.  Since I had no money and I needed a lot of help, they recommended I talk to a special type of financial planner and bankruptcy attorney.  They gave me her phone number and told me I should make an appointment as soon as possible.

When I called her, she had a very soothing calm voice and she told me that she could still work with me, although I had no money.  The first appointment would be in two parts.  First part, a full evaluation and accountability of my situation, and the second part would be a partial resolution of the problem.  So I needed to bring in all of my credit card statements, bank statements, plus a projected spending and savings plan.

The first appointment would last about two hours, and then I needed to make a weekly follow-up appointment that would last about one hour.  Since I had little or no money, she would expect me to sign papers stating that I would strictly follow her instructions on how to solve my money problems.  All of this sounded very good, so I made an appointment with her.  I made the appointment for 7 PM, the next evening.

When I arrived at her office, there was a receptionist who I signed in with.  See took all of the information that I brought with me and also gave me some papers to fill out and sign.  They needed the usual information that included my name, address, etc.

Then there was paper that I found unusual to sign.  It stated that I would follow all orders given to me by counselor, or I would be kicked out of the program.  It also stated that I would show up on time for my follow-up appointments, and I would strictly follow what I was told to do by my counselor.

I wasn’t sure about signing it, and I asked the receptionist about it.  “If you don’t sign it before you see her, you will not be helped by her.  So I suggest you sign it,” the receptionist said.

So I reluctantly signed it and gave all of the papers to the receptionist.  She carried the papers into the office of the counselor and closed the door.  In a few minutes, a smartly dressed young woman came out of her office.

“You must be Jim.  Glad to meet you.  My name is Mary,” she said.

“I am glad to meet you too.  I hope you can help me.”

“Come into my office with me.”  Then Mary told the receptionist, “Jim is my last appointment so you can go home now.  Be sure and lock the door.”

Mary’s office looked like any other office with a large wooden desk, with a computer, and many papers on it.  There also was a door marked “Resolution Room”, which I wondered about.

The first thing Mary did was to ask for my credit cards and my ATM card, and she cut them up.  “You won’t be needing these anymore.  Now let’s go over your financial situation.”

After reviewing my budget, my expenses, and my income; Mary decided my best way to handle this would be with a bankruptcy.  I would need to live on a cash and/or money order basis for the next two to three months.  I agreed and then signed some more papers to start the bankruptcy procedures.

Then Mary said, “Now is the time we need to work on the resolution part of your financial problem.  Until you have enough money to pay me for my work, and until this problem is resolved by the bankruptcy court, I want you to report here every week to update me on your financial progress and I will administer some corrective measures to make sure you stay on track.”

“What do you mean by corrective measures?” I asked.

“It involves being scolded and spanked to various degrees.  You have already signed the papers agreeing to this punishment,” Mary said.

“I didn’t realize that,” I quickly answered.

“Either you accept your weekly punishment or you owe me five hundred dollars right now and more later, or I will file charges and you will go to jail.  It is your choice.”

“ I guess I did sign the papers and I have no money to pay you.  So what happens next?” I asked.

“You will follow me into the resolution room where your spankings will take place.  I expect you to follow all of my commands and orders, without question.  And from now on, refer to me as ‘Mistress Mary’ or just ‘Mistress’.  Also answer me with only ‘Yes Mistress’ or ‘No Mistress’.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said.

“Good, you obey very well.”

We entered the room and I was shocked at what I saw.  There were various paddles and spanking implements hanging on the walls.  In the middle of the room there was an old-fashioned wooden chair with no arms.  There were also other types of wooden furniture that I had never seen before.

Mistress Mary sat on the wooden chair and said, “I will start you out with a hand spanking.  Take off all of your clothes, except for your underwear, and neatly fold them and put them in the corner.  Then come and stand directly in front of me, with your hands on your head.”

I felt embarrassing taking my clothes off in front of a woman I had just met.  As I stood there in front of her, I was surprised again when I felt her fingertips in the waistband of my undershorts.

“Stand still.  A spanking is most effective given on the bare skin.”  Once my undershorts were at my ankles she said, “Now step out of your undershorts and then bend over my lap so I can spank you.”

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, but I obeyed her and lay over her lap.  Now I was acutely aware of her perfume and body heat.  As she grabbed my waist and guided my body closer to hers she said, “When you are spanked by me, always keep your legs parted, no matter what position you are in.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Then she began spanking me.  Although she was just using her hand, it really stung my bare bottom.  Also, since my legs were apart, her fingers wrapped around the tender insides of my upper thighs, and those spanks I could really feel.  Although the spanking stung my bare bottom, I felt a nice warm feeling in my lower body.

After awhile, Mistress Mary said, “Now stand up and follow me to your next part of your spanking.”  She led me over to a piece of furniture that looked like a padded sawhorse in the middle.  On the sides, there was wood to put your knees and arms on.  “I expect you to climb upon or bend over any piece of furniture I direct you to.  I will only use restraints if I have to.  So get yourself over this with an arm and leg on each side.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

This kept my poor bottom raised up high and my legs spread apart.  Now I felt very exposed and vulnerable.  Next, Mistress Mary showed me a wooden paddle like what is used in Ping-Pong, and she started spanking me with it.  This stung my bottom a lot more than her hand.

“Now I will want to see you every week to make sure you stay on track with your money problems.  After a short review, you will be spanked,” she said.

Mistress Mary then showed me a riding crop.  “With this, I can make sure I haven’t missed any spots.”

The riding crop was able to spank my upper inner thighs and even between my butt cheeks.  Lucky for me, she didn’t use the crop on me for very long.

“Now stand up and walk over here.  Do not rub your bottom, until I tell you to.”

She led me over to two old wooden school desks.  They were the old type that slanted down.  She had me stand near the front of a desk, and bend over it so my head was on the chair next to it, and my hand grabbed both sides of the chair.

Then she showed me an old long wooden paddle with holes in it.  I used to see paddles like this hand from my teacher’s desk when I went to school.  “This should bring back memories,” she said. “I am only going to give you six swats with this paddle.  So don’t move about and keep those legs spread.”  This paddle hurt the worst, so far, on my now tender, well-spanked bottom.

After those six swats, she showed me a cane.  “For these, I want you to count them out loud, and then say ‘Thank you, Mistress’.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I reluctantly said.

I heard the whooshing of the cane, then the cane whistled, and SWAT!  It felt like a hundred bees stung me in a straight line.  I stood up and clenched my poor bottom.

“You forgot to count and you stood up, so that will not count.  So bend over again.”

“Yes, Mistress.  Sorry, Mistress,” I said.

Whistle, Swat!  “One. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Good.  You are learning to follow my orders,”  She said.

Whistle, Swat!  “Two. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Only one more, if you stay bent over and count.

Whistle, Swat!

It felt like a hot straight rod on my poor bottom. “Three. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Now you can stand up and rub your bottom.  I will expect to see you next week, to see how you are progressing.  Nice to meet you and you can get dressed now and leave my office.”

“Thank you, Mistress.  I will want to resolve my money issues as soon as possible so I don’t have to see you every week.  Thank you for your help,” I said.

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

Spanking Great Poetry: ‘Maybe Later’

Readers,


Here is a whimsical entry to the  ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest. ‘Maybe Later’ is a fun, rhyming verse, all about procrastination.


– Dana

*****

Maybe Later


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

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

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



Readers,


Three cheers for this imaginative ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest entry (with some tiny editing for naughtiness). Get ready to laugh, sweat, and learn a valuable lesson..


– Dana

*****

‘The B.A.C.O.N. Project’



He stared at the little ad and wondered what it could possibly mean: “Need to lose a few pounds quickly?” it read. He glanced down at his bulging tummy, which was large enough to hide his favorite body part from view, and continued reading. “Attractive female college professor seeking males who have lost their willpower, but not those unwanted pounds, to participate in a special project”. Hmm, I like the attractive female part of it he thought. And if she’s a college prof she may even have a brain, lol. “Interested? Call (543) 772-6533.” 

He put the paper down and went straight to the refrigerator. That’s it! A giant Dagwood! 15 minutes later he had constructed the most humongous creation in the new Deli world, loaded with 5 varieties of meats, 3 of fowl, chopped liver, bacon, 4 cheeses, onions, lettuce, mustard and, most importantly, at least a half cup of mayonnaise dripping from every orifice!! He smiled and winked at his masterful, sinful creation. A couple drops of saliva somehow snuck out and hit the plate. 

“Wait a second honey, I don’t want you to be all alone, especially with a hot stud like me!” He opened the cupboard and weighed his options (instead of himself). Fritos? Nah, not oily enough. Chips? Too ordinary. And just then, as if it was an out-of-body (more like out-of-mind) experience, the obese, 3-pound jar of Cheese Doodles beckoned. Of course!

But what can I wash this down with — it needs lubrication! Chocolate shake? No I’m gonna hit the Haagen-Daz for dessert. He took the one-liter stein out and placed it in the freezer. The sub was oozing irresistibly now; he couldn’t say no. 

He tried to grab the sandwich but it wasn’t going down without a fight. Finally, his efforts paid off and he got a grip on things. He wrestled the monster hero, or at least part of it, into his mouth for chomp #1. Quite a lot of the fixings didn’t quite reach their intended destination but this only increased his lascivious pleasure. He chewed, gulped and wiped the residual scraps on his shirt sleeve. This act was repeated a number of times, interspersed with cheek-expanding handfuls of the doodle thingies (lest we forget).

BELCH! “Ah, life is good!” he said to himself. The beer mug readied, he filled it to the brim and thought how much he loved head. 

Some time, lotsa hoagie and suds later, he went into the smallest room of his house to relieve himself from some of his extreme gluttony. He looked into the mirror, a slightly cloudy vision, and studied. Ok, I think that’s enough, maybe I’ll be a good boy and skip the ice cream.

**********************************
When he awoke, he felt awful. A hangover, not just the beer, but a food hangover. He went into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the scale. But the mirror was relentless. He felt really bad, like he had just lost a big fight.

The ad was still on his night stand, so he read it again. He tried to dial the number of few times but wimped before the last digit. Back to the bathroom. Summoning some courage he called, hoping to get an answering machine. A slightly sleepy, very sultry voice answered, “Hello?”.

“Um, er.. I saw your ad in.. the paper?” he said.

“Is this call in response to my notice of the research project and weight loss program,” inquired the very sexy voice.

“Um, yes. I’d like to participate, maybe take off a couple of excess pounds [cough].

“Very well. Please understand that this is a research study and that you will be required to meet certain criteria, which will be agreed upon in writing at the time of your participation. Is that quite clear, young man?”

“Why yes, certainly!” (Anything for science).

“Ok, please report to 1540 Smartsville Lane at 11am this morning, and be prompt!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

He hung up the phone, feeling excited but somewhat apprehensive. “..certain critera.. agreed upon in writing..”  Probably just some legal shmeagle requirement.

He showered, shaved, threw on some cologne and dressed in his sportiest, sexiest outfit. “Young, college professor..” I hope she’s a knockout, and maybe I’ll even get laid, if she can see beyond the excess poundage..


(Make sure to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.   – Dana)

11am, on the dot, he showed. He knocked, and she opened the door. Wearing high heels, a leather miniskirt and a fluffy white blouse showing luscious creamy cleavage, she introduced herself, “I’m Professor LeKane, won’t you please come in”? Completely overwhelmed, he stumbled in and followed, her magnetic rump at the lead.

She grabbed a clipboard off the table and flipped several pages. “Your name?”, she asked. “Nate,” he replied. “Hmm, interesting name,” she responded. “Well, one of my girlfriends nicked me ‘Red’ and somehow or other that stuck too. You can call me whatever you like,” he said with a grin. “Now, Nate, as we discussed,” she said, “here is our agreement. I would suggest that you read it care..” “Oh I’m certain that everything is in order,” he interrupted. Grabbing the clipboard he scribbled on the dotted line and handed it back to her, emphasizing his arrogance with a syrupy wink. 

“Very well then,” she sighed. “Kindly remove your clothing.” Wow, this is getting more promising by the second, he thought. He stripped down to his shorts and threw his clothes on the floor. Ms. LeKane cleared her throat and, trying to control her temper said, “Would you mind putting those on the chair?”. “Sure, babe” came the response, as he placed the items on the chair. “And the boxer shorts” she queried, snapping her fingers. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, with some sarcasm and a repeat of that silly wink. He removed his boxer shorts.

Clipboard in hand, she circled him, studying his body carefully. It made him feel rather uncomfortable, like a piece of meat. She pointed to a scale over in the corner. Damn, he thought, it’s the old-fashioned kind, with the weights and the balance thingy — you can’t shift your weight around to get a fake read. Reluctantly, he went over to the scale and she followed him, clipboard at the ready. He hesitated, and she responded with a crisp slap on his left cheek, which, surprisingly, stung a lot. Taken aback, he stepped up onto the scale. She moved the weights around and he prayed, but to no avail. Wow, who would have thought a Dagwood could add 6 pounds? She noted his weight carefully and then pointed at some sort of exercycle — it looked a bit different, more elaborate, than any he had seen before. Knowing that she was in an “all-business” mode, he stepped off the scale and obediently marched to the bike gizmo. For some reason, he felt some pangs of fear. That slap on his left cheek, which he was still feeling,  seemed to have a more serious intention.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Red. Now kindly position yourself on this equipment by placing your feet on these pedals and your hands on the grips,” she instructed. He complied with her request. Seeing that his hands and feet were in proper position, she pressed a button on the remote control she held. Suddenly, metal restraint devices locked him into position — he was helpless! “Hey, what the hell is this all about?” he said, in a slightly panicky voice”

“Perhaps next time you will take a moment to read what you sign,” she said, with a mischievous little grin. “Let me start up the machine and, if you will give me your full cooperation, which includes always addressing me as “Ms. LeKane,” I’ll try and brief you during the process. Keep in mind that, in the interest of science, I must stay fully focused on this experiment, which I have been devoting my life to for over 6 months now, and that therefore, I can’t engage in idle banter. Is this understood?” She started up the machine and his legs started moving; they didn’t really have any choice.

“Um.. er..  I guess so,” he said compliantly.

“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” she inquired?

“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” he mimicked.

“Very well. Before I begin the first phase of my procedure, which I must conduct without interruption, allow me to tell you the good news.” She turned up the machine a bit now and his legs actually had to do some work. “You will be receiving $50 cash at the end of this session. It’s part of my grant allocation. Oh, I almost forgot,” she exclaimed. 

“What, you forgot to get me out of this thing?” he said in a somewhat harsh voice.

“Red.. Nate.. or however you envision your identity,:” she said in exasperation, “please do not say things to anger me. I’m conducting scientific research and can NOT respond in anger.”

“Sorry,” he blurted sheepishly.

“Sorry, Ms. LeKane?” came her response.

“Sorry, Ms. LeKane,” he submitted.

She went over to some stereo equipment. The exercycle kept Nate’s legs moving, his bottom cheeks shifting from side to side, while Ms. LeKane put on some soft music. It sounded like one of those classical composers, maybe Bach? Then she opened up the cabinet. 

My oh my! Nate glanced over and his mouth fell wide open. Hairbrushes, paddles, crops, whips, straps and a number of items that he couldn’t identify. 

She grabbed her trusty clipboard again, came over to Nate, and turned the machine up another notch. Nate was breathing harder now and she made a note of that. Then she positioned herself alongside him and started slapping his bum cheeks, in rhythm to the music. Left, right, left right… she was catching each cheek as it relaxed, and Nate began feeling the effects immediately. “Ouch!” he declared. But the slapping, or its intensity, didn’t stop. “That hurts, Ms. LeKane,” but she continued.. left, right, left.. Just when it got to the point where he was really beginning to wonder if he could take any more she stopped, and made some more notes. 

He began to wonder what he had gotten himself into. Those weren’t love pats. It certainly seemed that this wasn’t the first time this woman had delivered a spanking. “Wow, you hit awfully hard.. for a girl,” he said. Ms. LeKane ignored the remark and kept penciling away on that damn clipboard. Another 50 spanks followed. He winced, squirmed and complained but the nasty slaps just continued to irritate his buttocks. Another respite while she jotted away. He felt so embarrassed, helplessly in bondage on this weird machine, being spanked hard by this gorgeous woman and reduced to a naughty, naughty boy, with an ass that was burning.

“Ok, we’re done?” he asked. No response.

She turned the machine up a little higher and delivered another volley of stingers. He wasn’t counting any more. Some tears began welling up as he tried to remain stoic. Suddenly, she turned off the machine. It’s over, thank God, he thought. More scribbling. She examined his tushy carefully, kneading it like dough, patting it, massaging it, doing who knows what with her hands and fingernails.

“The first portion of my experiment is completed,” announced Ms. LeKane. Noticing that he was sweating, and breathing heavily, she said, “I’ll get you a glass of water.” Marching out of the room, his eyes again glued to that magnetic buttocks, he sighed with some relief. She had left the clipboard within plain view and he glanced at it. At the top, it read:

 “THE BACON PROJECT:

 Behavioral 
Application, Conditioning and Ontological Neoscience.” 

He had no idea what that meant. Scanning some of the verbiage he noticed references to Pavlov, B.F. Skinner, and other names with which he was unfamiliar. Ms. LeKane came back into the room with a glass of ice water. She released one of his hands from its metal restraint and handed him the water. It tasted very good, and his sore bottom appreciated the respite. Noting that the metal restraints had caused some slight bruising she went over to the cabinet and took out some soft leather cuffs and rope  She toweled off some of his sweat and then secured his free hand with the leather cuff and rope, right back on that dreaded machine. She did the same with his other hand, made some notes and said, “Ok Mr. Red, we’re ready for Part 2.”

********************************
She turned on the machine, cranking it a little higher and making Nate move more than he had in about a decade. He felt embarrassed about his fatty flesh bouncing around, especially his rear end. Ms. LeKane made more notes and waltzed over to the cabinet. When she returned she had two whips, one looked like a riding crop, not really for horses, with a nasty loop on the end, and the other, some sort of buggy whip.

“I’m going to take this machine up to your maximum safety level and encourage you to move with this crop of mine.” She swished it thru the air 3 or 4 times. Nate cringed. The machine was cranked up. The music she had put on had a dance like rhythm and the swishes coincided with it. Now they landed, left.. right.. left.. right.. After about 15 seconds he began pleading, “please Ms. LeKane, you’re really hurting me!” But she ignored his pleas, concentrating on covering every square inch of the area of his buttocks, from the “sit spot” to the area where it meets the thigh. She continued relentlessly, for two minutes (glancing at her watch) and then stopped. He was begging now. “Please, please Ms. LeKane, does this experiment have to hurt so much?”

She slowed the machine to a walking pace and stood right in front of him. “When you read the agreement you signed,” she stated calmly, “you will see that you have empowered me to inflict pain levels necessary for this project. The contract includes that I must not do anything to cause any permanent damage, and that evidence of what I do shall not be apparent by the time you have your next session, should you choose to do so. And the good news, is that you will be paid $100 cash for that 2nd session. Are we clear, Mr. Red Nate?”

“Yeah, I guess so..” he said. 


“Ok. Now I could use a little respite and you could probably use one also.” That said, she went over to the CDs and popped on Led Zepp’s “Black Dog”. Grabbing the buggy whip, she started dancing, her drop-dead bod gyrating and undulating, “Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move, Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove..”  Brandishing the nasty whip , she punctuated her bumps and grinds with short, supple wrist flicks that sizzled through the air. She was driving him crazy and when she lifted her arms high in the air he was transfixed by the patches of sweat that appeared at her underarms. What a dance — And what a woman!

She slowly danced twoards him. “Swish” went the buggy whip, leaving a thin red stripe. “Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thing, Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting.” She spun around, removing her blouse. He fell in love. Moving in and out she swished away, making thin lines all over him. It hurt like hell but he was way too intoxicated with her to protest. On and on the song went, with intermissions while she danced away followed by more evil cuts from the buggy whip. Eventually, his rump resembled some kind of bizarre peppermint candy.

When the song ended she was sweating heavily, breathing hard. She released Nate, and he crumpled down onto the floor. “Need a woman gonna hold my hand, tell me no lies, make me a happy man“. She turned off the music and got them both tall ice waters and sat down next to him. “This is going even better than I expected,” she exclaimed. 

“I’m so happy,” he said. “Anything for science!” “Are we done?” he queried. 

“No, just taking a breather before the last phase of today’s experiment.” 

His eyes moved to the glistening sweat on her cleavage. “Nate, look me in the eyes. Resist your animal urges for once, please,” she implored. He did as she asked, but gazing into her adorable eyes seem to have the opposite effect of what she was requesting.

“Ok, last phase,” she announced.

“Red.. I want you to get back onto this special cycle but I don’t want to restrain you. I need for you to cooperate voluntarily.”

How could he resist anything she asked for. “Ok, Ms. LeKane”. 

He did as he was told and she continued taking notes. She went over to the cabinet, pulled out a fur blindfold and gently placed it on him. 

He felt the machine moving now, his upper body bending over and his flanks being raised up into the air. He felt so vulnerable, his tushy right there, all stretched out. He was worried. “Try and relax as much as possible darling,” she cooed in his ear. “It will be less painful and I won’t risk breaking some of my equipment,” she added.

Again, he did as he was told. 

“Now Nate, I want you to breathe deeply and try to tell me what you smell,” she asked.

“hmm, that smell.. it smells like some kind of underarm odor,” he said quizzically. (Oddly, he really liked that smell).

“Very good, that’s what it is and it’s from my underarms,” she announced. “Your olfactory system is working well. Now let’s proceed with the next step.”

She placed something in front of Nate’s nose. He sniffed. “Bacon?” he guessed. “That’s correct. Bacon is not bad for you but it’s very dense in calories.” Suddenly he felt something rather cold and very hard being held against his lower butt cheeks. “This is a heavy, dense wood paddle,” she explained. W-H-A-C-K, and he practically hit the roof. “Man, I ain’t gonna be able to sit for a week!” he exclaimed. She had hit dead center and low (a beautifully-delivered smack).

“Did you understand what I just said about the bacon, Nate?”

“Yes I did,” he responded.

W-H-A-C-K a perfect repeat! “YEOWEE,” yelled Nate. Tears started welling up again.

“Where’s the Ms. LeKane, Nate”?

“Ms. LeKane” he blurted, trying to hide the tears from her.

He heard the rustling of paper and opening of a jar.

“Open your mouth, please” she said.

He opened and she placed something in his mouth. “Mmm, that’s a Cheez Doodle with mayo, right,” he asked.

“Correct. Again, something high in calories, but this time less dense. I’ve chosen my newly-acquired tawse to make my point. Don’t be fooled by foods that taste light, but are loaded with calories,” she instructed.

SWISH/SMACK.. SWISH/SMACK..  SWISH/SMACK  SWISH/SMACK.. went her tawse. Another “YEOWEE,” went Nate. Wow, that one hurt. He couldn’t decide which implement was worse, only that they were different. But he knew he had reached his limit.

“Please, please [sob] Ms. LeKane, can we finish this yet?”

“All right, Mr. Red Nate, you’ve been a terrific subject,” said Ms. LeKane. She pressed some buttons on the remote and the machine eased him into a standing position. He rubbed his buttocks to attempt to get rid of the horrible fire she had inflicted on his bottom. Then she threw her arms around him. (She made a mental note to herself about tawses that need to be broken in..).

She whispered in his ear: “Nate, you are a very very naughty boy, and you know it.” He nodded. “And what happens to very naughty boys, Nate?” “They get spanked, Ms. LeKane, spanked hard,” he said. “That’s right. And for the final phase of today’s session, I’m going to take you over my knee and do just that. I’m going to do what your mom should have, not in anger, but out of concern for your well-being.”

“And just to make it more poignant, look what we have here,” she added, as she took out a plate full of sliced carrots, celery, tomatoes and several other veggies.

“Now take this plate and set it down to the right of that straight-backed chair,” she ordered. “Yes, Ms. LeKane,” came the conditioned response, now automatic.

Ms. LeKane positioned herself on the chair and pointed to her lap. Nate came forward and climbed over it, his eyes gazing at the vegetable platter, his mind realizing that Ms. LeKane is a lefty.

The spanks began, each one beautifully delivered, using a whippy wrist motion that only a seasoned spanker can execute well, and covering all of the areas nicely, evenly. It hurt his already sore tush but nothing like the implements. He went into a reverie for the next 5 minutes or so until the excellent spanking came to a conclusion.

“You may get dressed now, Nate,” said Ms. LeKane.

He got up, tried to keep himself “together” after this whole experience, an absolute flood of emotions and sensations engulfed him. He dressed himself, regretting that he hadn’t folded his clothes neatly.

“Oh, lest I forget,” said Ms. LeKane, “here is your $50,” and she handed him a crisp bill. “I want you to give yourself a little time to process this experience, and if you choose to continue in the project, give me a call. Your next session will pay $100 and, if you haven’t lost any weight, you will get a very mild spanking. If you can manage to lose 3 lbs or more, you will get a little more than you got today, and you will have a chance to meet some of the other characters you saw in the cabinet. Understood?”

He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “understood, Ms. LeKane, and thank you.”

She gave him a little kiss on the cheek, opened the door and he exited. He don’t know whether he walked to his car or not, since it felt more like floating.

She locked the door, jotted a few final things on the clipboard, carefully cleaned the thick wood paddle, tawse, crop and buggy whip with Sporicidin and drew a bath for herself. She put the Bach CD back on.

She felt quite exhausted but completely exhilarated at the same time. The water was perfect and she guided her gorgeous body into the tub, leaned back. With her eyes closed she envisioned all the wonderful marks she had inflicted, heard his pleas and smiled. In the distance, she heard the phone ring, and Nate’s voice. ***

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

Dana Kane Premium Spanking Video – coming soon!


Readers,

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

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

– Dana


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

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

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

We are off to an excellent start to 2012, with the fantastic story entries from the  ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest. This one, titled ‘New Year’s Resolutions and the Consequences of Failure’ is an educated take on FLDD relationships, and accountability. Enjoy!


– Dana

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


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

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



This month’s spanking story contest, ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’, was one of the most fun yet. Many thanks to the entrants, who have outdone themselves this time around.


It seems inevitable, looking at the numbers, that most of us will break our resolutions (again) this year – and there also seems to be no shortage of spankos who are willing to offer their bottoms up in trade for sticking to their plans. The lengths that these writers go to in order to see themselves properly disciplined for their expected offenses are quite impressive, and I think you’ll agree that each of them should know better next year.


Quite honestly, winners are getting harder and harder to choose. Those of you who’ve endeavored to commit the time and effort to these contests continue to bowl me over…my sincerest gratitude to each of you. I do hope that every one of you one day brings home the ‘prize’.


This month’s winner, whom I’ll call ‘E’,  will receive his spanking for a job very well done on “Write What You Know”. This story is exactly what we’ve come to recognize from our spanko authors – a wonderfully-written story with relatable characters and absolutely fantastic spanking suspense.
Don’t read this one in a hurry…it’s too good to rush.


– Dana

*****


Write What You Know


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


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

New Site Suggestion



Readers,


I haven’t previously written reviews or suggestions of premium video-based spanking sites – and not because there isn’t a wealth of excellent content out there. It seems to me that those of us who are interested in purchasing spanking video content probably know full-well where and how to do so, so there’s never really seemed like much need for my two cents.


For the last couple of  months, though, I’ve followed the ongoing construction of Pandora Blake’s Dreams of Spanking website through  her Twitter feeds (@PandoraBlake and @DreamsOfSpanking ), and have been anticipating it’s going live. I’m sure that I was among many who were happy to see the unveiling recently.




As expected, there is a lot to like about Miss Blake’s vision, and the first word which comes to mind is ‘classy’. It’s a classy website. The text introductions are intelligent, succinct, and written by someone who’s obviously passionate about corporal punishment. 


High-resolution images and beautifully-written scene synopses (along with a very attractive cast of players) make an excellent first impression, and costumes, scene settings, and high-definition technology guarantee great video. 
But the most interesting part of Dreams of Spanking?


The FAQ.


This is where the true brilliance shows, in my opinion. We get some insight into the seriously impressive work which has gone into building the site itself, including a genius little bit of code which allows the site to operate without a restricted members’ area. 
We also find out that Miss Blake’s website includes all sub-genres (including M/M spankings) within one site, which I’d like to stand up and applaud. We’re too small a group, us spankos, to go around breaking ourselves up into even smaller groups, in my ever-so-humble opinion. And you know my motto: This is about your backside, not your front side. 


Naturally, Dreams of Spanking is still a work in progress. The site builders promise a “more sophisticated” search engine function, but the current one seems dandy to me. There is already a nice selection of content available, and they’ll be regularly updating video, photo sets, audio files, and who-knows-what-else.


Lastly, Pandora Blake seems like a nice girl. Genuinely, wholeheartedly nice. 


And who doesn’t like to see nice girls spanked, hmm…?


– Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

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

New Video: Product Testing with Dana Kane – Kitty’s Exotic Paddles

 

I fell in love with the Flapjack Paddle from Kitty’s Exotic Paddles the first time I visited her site, months ago.  I am now pleased to report that it is fully effective in disciplinary application both at home and on the road, so to speak. 
The paddle handles like a dream and delivers a deep, penetrating thud, along with some impressive post-paddling strawberries on the tush.
Did I mention that it is absolutely beautiful, too? Kitty – as the name implies – uses exotic woods. This one is constructed of Leopardwood and Machiche, and I am tickled to include it in my arsenal.
 
Enjoy!
 
– Dana
 
 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

London, U.K., you say?



Indeed, I do.  March 26-31.


I am eagerly anticipating my first trip to the U.K. 


London holds many fascinations for me – the Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The London eye (dare I?), dozens of glorious museums, and quite literally tons of fish and chips. I fully intend to immerse myself in tourism…minus the coordinated separates and fanny pack, thankyouverymuch…for approximately a day-and-a-half.


Past that, it’s all about the spankings. (I cannot wait to get my hands on you misbehaving British boys, with your seemingly-innate appreciation for all things corporal.) Yes, I admit that dreams of tightly-laced governess shoes dance in my head when I imagine my time in London.. 


I will pack many, many canes.


And paddles. And hairbrushes. And straps. And other evil little injustices, with which to ‘leave my mark’ on London, as it were.


Since this will be my maiden voyage, I am going to be grateful for any advice you Londoners (or travelers) may provide concerning domestic play locations, decent and affordable lodging, and navigation of the city. If you know of a particularly lovely lady with a nice playspace, please refer her to me. 
Likewise tips on great food and little-known sights.


– Dana

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

The ‘Other Stuff’ Survey



Readers,


NOTE that the request for fantasy scenarios in the below survey is F/F (that’s FEMALE/FEMALE, gentlemen). Please refrain from any further referencing of your genitals – or anyone else’s, for that matter – and please, for godssakes, behave yourselves.


– Dana

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

New Video: Product Testing with Dana Kane – OTK Rug Beater



Readers,


I am happy to share this new Product Testing video with you, and to thank Cane-iac for once again manufacturing a product that is both functional and intense. I have put my OTK Rug Beater through it’s paces on several occasions and have not managed to break it yet – impressive.


Recently my friends at Cane-iac made me an offer I couldn’t refuse..a chance to work with an established, well-respected business within the kink community. I’ll be producing some promotional videos for their products (which I wholeheartedly endorse) and am excited at the prospect of having even more reason to make spanking videos.


Take a look around their website at www.Cane-iac.com. You may even find a different version of ‘The Good Boy OTK’ video there…

 
 
As always, I hope that you enjoy watching as much as I enjoy spanking.
 
– Dana
P.S. Keep your eye on the mirror..

 

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

Social Sites for Spankos



For you social spanko-types, a listing of places where you can meet, chat, and inform yourself online:




Fetlife


While Fetlife caters to the entire kink/fetish/poly/porn community, there are many groups, events, and members with strictly spanking interests. Fetlife is a huge, active, free site, with available premium memberships with access to video.


Spanko.net


This is a site made up of fellow spanking enthusiasts. You can check out photo galleries, upload your own, and join group discussions and chat, all free. Members area and ads are available.


SpankoLife


Spankolife boasts just over three thousand members, and features photos, blogs, and other member-submitted content, free.


Bottom Lines


This is a free, members only, U.K.-based online spanking community. The forum boards look active and well-moderated.


SpankingNeeds


Spanking Needs, as mentioned in a previous post, is another active forum community for spanking enthusiasts. The message boards are well-trafficked, and the site itself is a wealth of spanking knowledge.


SpankFinder


According to the site description, “SpankFinder is a free match-making site for adults and non-professional spanking enthusiasts.” A few of my playmates have mentioned this site as a good place to look for lifestyle playmates.


Spankee Finder


This is mainly a site featuring links and information for professional spanking bottoms in the UK, but also lists local parties, events, and other useful information.


Spanking Tube


Not just a video site anymore, SpankingTube.com now offers members free profile pages, blogs, photo albums, and better-categorized videos.

*****

I have also included links to local Spanking Groups and Parties in the right-hand side of this blogsite. Please let me know if your favorite group isn’t listed there, and I’ll add it.


– Dana

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

A Song for the Holidays, by Dana Kane



I laid them all out on the table, all twelve of them, just before he arrived; I smoothed the quilt on the bed, and closed the window blinds tight. It was Christmas in New York City, but I had no time to stare out the window at the bustle of downtown shoppers below. 
Out came the wrist and ankle restraints, and the lengths of silk rope – within reach at the foot of the bed – and on went my Santa hat, just as the doorbell rang.


My smile was wide when I opened the door, both because I was happy to see him and because he had no idea what he was in for tonight. None the wiser, he walked right in and handed me his coat. Closing the door behind him, I sealed his fate.


As he followed me down the hall toward the bedroom, I decided that I was in no mood for small talk – we would get straight to tonight’s performance. I lead him directly to the table and instructed him to place the twelve spanking implements in order, from least painful to most. When he said that he wasn’t familiar with some of the implements and joked about that changing very soon by the look of things, I told him to take his best guess…and to hurry along.


When he finished, I asked him to strip completely and lie face-down on the bed. He complied, still smiling, but certainly wondering why we weren’t starting with a warm-up and some nice over-the-knee time. His smile wavered only briefly when I picked up the leather restraints and began buckling them around his wrists and ankles, attaching them with the silk ropes to the bed’s four corners. 


Once he was completely restrained, I explained to him that his holiday gift this year would be a song. As a fellow music lover, I knew that he would appreciate the sentiment, if not the application. The song would be The Twelve Days of Christmas, naturally, and there was nothing he could do about it now that he was so nicely tied down. 


We’d be beginning with the implement he’d chosen as ‘most painful’ and working our way down the line, so I sang to him gently…


“On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve strokes with a brand-new leather tawse..”


..and proceeded to unload twelve hard, intense strokes of a three-tailed leather strap that would light up even the most seasoned spanko.


“Merry Christmas, dear.” I whispered as he wimpered.


“But I’m Jewish..” he said.


“That’s no excuse, dear. Let’s move on..
..on the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me – eleven swats with a big, red rubber loop.” I crooned lovingly, while he writhed about in his ropes.


“On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..ten strokes with a heavy wood paddle…
Nine whippy cane strokes, eight acrylic smacks, seven cane loop stingers, six hairbrush paddlings,
FIVE WOO-DEN SPOONS!…”


“But Hannukah has only eight days. We could stop now, couldn’t we? Please?” he tried.
“What, you don’t appreciate my singing? I worked hard on this song. You should just lie there and enjoy it. Unless you’d like me to start all over at the beginning again…?”


“No, no! I’m sorry. Please, finish the song. It’s very nice.” he panted.


“That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh yes..


..four short canes, three rubber smacks (“Hold still!”), two spanking buddies, 
and one with a little balsa ruler!”


I took a stage appropriate bow while he caught his breath, then quickly released him from his restraints. “That was great!” he said, much happier about the whole thing now that it was over, “That leather tawse was really bad – can I have a glass of water?”


“Water? You think we’re finished here? Oh no, dear, we are nowhere near finished.” I laughed as he realized that, even though I wouldn’t be singing anymore (gratefully), the spanking had just begun.


“Now come and stretch yourself across my lap so I can give you a spanking..”



– Dana

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

What are we looking for?



The Google search box is still the single most powerful tool on the internet.


I can search for things so specific that – in most cases – I can find exactly what I’m looking for within the first ten or so listings. It’s terribly convenient, and keeps us from having to muck about in a bunch of unnecessary information.


When I look at the search terms which lead visitors to my blogsite, I find a lot of what you’d expect – very specified search terms, based on a person’s particular interests. They likely find what they’re looking for within those same ten or so search results.


Since we all obviously spend a lot of time focusing our searches on something specific, I thought that it would be fun to search some very general terms, and see what comes up…


Spanking


The first listing is the definition, by wikipedia:


Spanking refers to the act of striking the buttocks of another person to cause temporary pain without producing physical injury.[1] It generally involves one person striking the buttocks of another person with an open hand. When an open hand is used, spanking is referred to in some countries as slapping or smacking. More severe forms of spanking, such as switching, paddling, belting, caning, whipping, and birching, involve the use of an implement instead of a hand.


AllThingsSpanking.com and Chross.blog.ch are the first fetish-related listings – and both are worth taking a nice long look.


Another site which comes up in the first page listings is SpankingNeeds.com. The forum boards on the site seem active and well-moderated.


Discipline


While the first nine results were completely non-fetish-related, number ten redeemed the general search…
Cali and Heinz’ Firm and Loving Domestic Discipline blog shares this great couples’ adventures in spanking and domestic discipline.


Naughty


SoundPunishment.com rolls in in the top ten search results, and is a U.K.-based spanking video company featuring high-quality M/F content.


Spanking Naught Catherine also peeks in on the first page. Catherine is a U.K.-based “spankee and switch with curves like Venus”, and her site features some gorgeous photos of Catherine and her lovely bottom.




I guess the point is that we don’t always have to know exactly what we’re looking for to find something great. Go surfing.


– Dana

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

Spanking PSA: Safety First. And Second. And Third.



Readers,


It is impossible to say too much about safety, so..


Some of my playmates are twenty-plus year players, and some have trusted me with their first ever adult spankings. I am fortunate to play often, and with an amazingly diverse group of wonderful people. The one thing which all of my lovely spanking partners share is my concern for their well-being, both on and off the lap. That concern naturally extends to the entire community when it comes to personal safety during spanking play.


I know that many of us are well-versed on the do’s and dont’s of spanking safety, but I see nothing wrong with reiterating what may be, to some, new information. Can we touch on a few things, just in case?


The Cleaning of the Implements (also known as Common Sense)


Whether you play with one partner or many, it is absolutely imperative to clean those toys after each and every use. Buy yourself a bottle of Sporicidin (hospital-grade disinfectant) or fill a spray bottle with alcohol and take a minute to insure that it’s done properly by doing it yourself.
If you’re a party, group, or pro player this is even more important. Don’t be afraid to ask that your play partner clean their paddle, cane, or other implement before it is used on your body. If they’re offended, then politely thank them for their time, and then go and find yourself someone who’s as concerned about safety as you are. A quick scan of the internet will educate you quite quickly on the dangers of coming in contact with the germs and fluids of others. Which leads me to:


The Breaking of the Skin (and the Copious Seeping of the Plasma through the Pores)


Unless you are specifically interested in bloodletting and semi-permanent physical damage, there is absolutely, unequivocally, no reason to experience broken skin or seeping, even during the course of a very hard spanking (yes, this includes heavy wood paddles and canes, too). Strawberries, spots, and bruises are natural, especially if you’ve not achieved a high level of conditioning, but skin-breaking most certainly is not a necessary part of spanking activity.


It is possible to cause thinning of the dermis, through repeated breaks, which will cause the skin to be unable to properly repair itself, leaving you with an area which won’t fully recover no matter how long you go between spankings. You don’t want to render yourself unable to play in the future, do you? 
I didn’t think so.
Plasma seepage occurs when the body rushes cells to the assaulted area in an effort to repair the damage that’s been done, and to try and prevent more. This happens with repeated intense impacts, or when the top layer(s) of skin are removed, usually from dense wood implements, or rough-surfaced ones, like sandpaper paddles.


*Note: I am not condemning heavy play, nor am I suggesting that the Breaking of the Skin should never occur. I do, on occasion, take part in heavy punishment scenes in which there is dermal damage – and I do believe that it occasionally contains merit (so does spraying a bit of 90% isopropyl alcohol on a freshly-caned bottom). 


I simply believe that everyone involved should be as careful and responsible as possible on these occasions – and that we should all remember that a great spanking isn’t determined by it’s severity.


The Drawing of the Lines ( i.e. “What the hell are you doing back there?!”)


It is common knowledge among my playmates that I do not allow the use of safe words during play. As I consider spanking a completely consensual act, I see no reason to employ them. If my bottom is feeling particularly physically compromised – either from pain, position, or preoccupation – they are instructed to verbalize this to me directly.
While they consent to submitting to physical discipline, I consent to stop immediately if they achieve a level of sensation which they find truly offensive, and not merely painful.


Whether or not safe words are used, both players’ wishes should be observed and respected at all times. Naturally, the best way to achieve this is to discuss both your expectations and clearly state your limits beforehand. If at any time either spanker or spankee feels as though his or her wishes are not being respected, play should stop immediately. While this seems perfectly rational, I have written previously about the numbers of us who’ve allowed a scene to go too far in the wrong direction…proof that sometimes we overlook ourselves in the effort to not offend.




The spanking community are so very supportive and caring of one another, and I know that there are numerous safety considerations, cleaning techniques, and tips which I have not covered here. Please take a moment to share some of your Safe Spanko Wisdom with other readers in the comment box below.


Play safe, and have fun.


– Dana




P.S. Happy holidays!

 

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

Thanks for the Memories



I would like to take a few minutes to acknowledge my wonderful playmates – and some of the great memories you’ve given me..


You’ve made me laugh – from ‘Tickle This’ to Flash Gordon to photos of your pets, and ‘it’s the rubber loop for you’. You’ve wiggled, squirmed, sassed and back-talked…all to my great joy.


You’ve impressed me with your imaginations and acting abilities – we’ve explored the schoolhouse, the office, the bedroom, and the woodshed; we’ve played silly games, we’ve played dress up, and we’ve gotten down to serious business. If the world is a stage, then you all deserve Oscars.


You lead the MOST interesting lives, and I am honored to hear stories of your travels, performances, and death-defying adventures. You are musical, sporting, and learned. You also take the time to talk with me about our shared interests, and fuel my ever-present interest in knowing more about why we do this thing we do. 


You have shared of yourselves here on my blog – the VBB and his WW,  The Contest Winner and his Lovely Wife, Angel, Mover Miguel, Mr Marks, and all the rest have made this a much more interesting place to be.


You’ve trusted me – with your bodies, with your time, and with your friendship.


You have, to a person, been an absolute pleasure.  


Thank you.


– Dana


(Now…who’s ready for another spanking?)

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

Upcoming Travel



Upcoming travel, December 2011 through March 2012. 




DECEMBER 2011:




   7-8     Ft. Lauderdale


  9-10     Tampa


 12-13     Richmond


13-14    Washington D.C.


14-15    Philadelphia




JANUARY 2012


   9-10    Sacramento


 10-11    San Francisco


 11-13   Los Angeles


 17-18    Phoenix


 18-19    Houston


 19-20    Nashville


 24-25    Atlanta


 25-26    Charlotte


 26-27    Memphis




FEBRUARY 2012:


  6-7     San Antonio


  7-8     Dallas


  8-9     Oklahoma City


 9-10   Indianapolis


21-23   Seattle


23-24   Portland, OR




MARCH 2012:


9-10    Rochester, NY


12-13  Denver


13-14  Kansas City, MO


14-15  Cincinnati




26 – April 2    London, U.K.




More dates coming soon. Email for scheduling:

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

‘Dear Friends’ from The Wonderful Wife

Readers,

The Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife have become great friends and playmates, and I am always extremely grateful to have their happy permission to share some of our exploits. 

At our last meeting, I asked The Wonderful Wife to think about composing some thoughts on her role as HoH in their Female Led Domestic Discipline relationship. I have told them both that their relationship is an excellent example of FLDD, and that others would appreciate reading her thoughts – as well as his – on the subject.

To that end, I am happy to share this letter to you all from The Wonderful Wife. While she is entirely too kind when speaking of me,  I feel as though her thoughts on DD are right on the money…and worth sharing with others who have an interest in, or are also living, domestic discipline relationships.

– Dana


*****

Dear Friends, 
        These last seven months we have known Dana has been a wonderful time of growth for me. My husband is the true spanko in the family and I have joined him for the ride. Our Female Led Domestic Discipline (FLDD) relationship works for us, we are so much happier and more content than we used to be. It has not always been an easy transition for us. There were times he was frustrated because he needed me to take a more dominant role in the relationship than I was ready to give. Taking that dominant role was not always an easy thing to do and I struggled with feeling of inadequacy that led him to “top from the bottom” more times than he wanted to do. Meeting with Dana and having her as an example of a true disciplinarian has given me the self-confidence that I needed to embrace my role as the HoH disciplinarian. As I have grown in my role, the VBB is more relaxed and is a lot happier. Our house runs smoother and we communicate so much better. There is no need for fights or stupid disagreements that happen so often with vanilla couples. We have a great way to deal with disagreements, which does not mean I am always right or everything ends with him over my lap. However, he knows there is no getting mad or talking irrational, no sulking and definitely no holding grudges.
The VBB’s pain tolerance is very high. I have had issues with my shoulder and elbow hurting for months on end because of this. Now with Dana’s help I have other methods of dealing with the VBB (much to his chagrin). Things that I would not have thought about or things he did not want me to know she has taught me to use effectively. We did not start out with the perfect plan, our FLDD relationship developed through trial and error. In fact, it started with both of us spanking each other and having a long list of rules that we had to follow. After awhile and after a bit of discussion we decided that he would get the spankings and I would be the disciplinarian. After a few years, we decided to trash the long list of rules and just go with a standard of behavior that I expect him to follow.
 If you had asked me a year ago if I would be taking pictures of my husband’s cute behind for a website I would have said you were crazy. I especially never thought I would be going with my husband to see someone else spank him. Now I wish we had started doing this sooner. I have learned so much and grown so much in my role as the HoH, my husband and I are happier because of it. When we first contacted Dana, we asked for her help with a true disciplinary session for my husband. We thought she would deal with him once and that would be the end of it. Fortunately for us she graciously invited us to come again to play with her and the second time I was able to play. Since then she has became a true friend, confidant, and fellow spanker of the VBB’s behind. I have reaped the benefit of that more than once; I especially saw it last month when I once again asked Dana to help me with another true discipline session for the VBB. It was very effective and I do not think he has any desire to repeat it any time soon. Although he knows I would gladly call upon her again if needed. If you have kept up with the VBB’s journals on Dana’s website, you might think that all I do is spank him for discipline reasons. That is not all together true, he does earn his fare share of spankings, but it seem as though I make up just as many reasons for fun. There is just something fun about having him over my lap for a quick little OTK before he leaves for work or for a quick little canning before he goes to bed. Sometimes he challenges me for a spanking and other times I just have a personal need to spank him. I have four different ordinary hairbrushes sitting around the house to have on hand to deal with his quick wit and brattiness. I can quickly get him back on track any time with any one of them.
     To this end, I urge you to speak to your spouse about your needs and desires. You may not start out with the perfect plan; it will take a while for the non-spanko to get use to things, but with patience on both your parts it will work out. I would encourage your spouse to read Dana’s blog and learn about all the wonderful things that can happen in a FLDD relationship or even a MLDD relationship. They will have so much information at their disposal and will see how much fun they can have. Take it slowly and do not push too hard, give them time to adjust to the idea and allow them to develop their interest over time. As the spanko it may not be everything you want at first but give your spouse a chance to get use to the idea. As they reap the benefits of a spouse with a warm backside, I am sure they will learn to love it as much as I do.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘My Birthday Spanking’ Contest Entry: F/M Spanking Stories

Here is another nice little story entry for the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ writing contest. Thanks again to all the contributors.


– Dana

*****
i woke up on my 30th birthday expecting maybe a card from my new girlfriend of two months but since we had a argument last night, i guess maybe not.I went downstairs looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found.     i     thought oh well, what the heck and went over to my armchair.I took hold of my mug coaster and bent over the back of my chair and started selfspanking harder and harder. I did not realise she was there, but i heard her saying “So you like spanking do you stay right where you are i will be back in an hour”.Exactly one hour later, she was back with 3 of her friends and a large holdall ”  As you like being spanked, we are going to spank you 30 times from each of us, now get over to your table, stand by it and we are going to pull your trousers downand then your pants so bend right over” I did as ordered and they tied my ankles to the table legs. My girlfriend told me that mary was going to spank me first and use a selection of hairbrushes my bottom started getting sore by the time mary had given me 20 thelast 10 was given with real force. “My oh my look said my girlfriend, his bottom is turning a lovly deep pink, do you want us to carry on ” she asked, “MMMM, yes ” i replied. She told me anne would be next, using some paddles. I realised then what was in the large holdall here we go i thought, the first strike was so hard, i screamed out anne then gave me 20 hits in rapid sucession leaving the last 9 to be given with a long pause between them. “Still want more” “Of course ” i cried “I am patricia and i am going to cane you” I felt the  cane rest across both cheeks, as if she was taking aim,then it lifted and i heard the swoosh before the cane landed, i felt it dig into the flesh. those strokes of the cane were delivered with precission. “o.k. its my turn next untie him girls right come over here and get right over my knee.” Ibent over her knee, she caressed my bottom with her fingers before spanking me with her hand. she stopped aftr every 10th ne and scratched her finger nails across my bottom.When she had finished she told me that she had looked at my computer found i had been looking at the Dana Kane Spanks site and she told her friends and they came up with the idea of a spanking for my birthday with a suggestion that if i do anything wrong then they will spank me even harder next time. 3 days later, i looked at my bottom in the mirror and saw her smiling at me the red cane marks are fading and the reddening bottom is fading but i think i might have to do something wrong again pretty soon  
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

New Contest: ‘I Broke My New Year’s Resolution’



Readers,


The statistics on New Year’s Resolutions are likely not scientific…but they are interesting.


The most common Resolutions annually are:

1. Get fit / Lose weight

2. Spend more time with family and friends

3. Quit smoking

4. Improve love relationships

5. Improve finances

6. Quit drinking

7. Get a new job

8. Learn a new skill / hobby

9. Get organized

10. Volunteer / help others


Our hearts are in the right places, certainly..but here’s 
the sad truth:



Only 8% of people are always successful in keeping their New Year’s Resolutions.



In this month’s writing contest – ‘I Broke My New Year’s Resolution’ – I’d like for you to tell me about your Resolution – and then tell me about what will happen…
When you break it. 

*****

Your story may be a work of fiction or a recounting of past experiences, or even one of pending events. You’ll state your Resolution, then tell me about how you’ve broken it (or will), and how you’ll be disciplined when that happens.


Please read carefully
  • As in every contest, you’re welcome to write as little or as much as you like.
  • Your story may contain m/m, m/f,f/m, and f/f content. All spankings are welcome. (You do not have to include me as a character in your story.)
  • You may write a narrative, song, poem…any pleasing combination of words on spanking.


  • Do not include any characters, or situations depicting characters, under 18 years of age.
  • When writing non-fiction, please change real names and places to protect privacy.
  • No sex, no genitalia, no foul language. No exceptions. (I will either choose to refrain from posting your entry entirely, or edit it into literary oblivion.) This is about your backside – not your front side.


All entries should be sent to me directly:


The contest will run throughout the month of December 2011. I will choose and post the winning story entry January 1, 2012.

  • The winning author will receive a free spanking session with me, either in my home city of Las Vegas, or any of the cities to which I have planned travel in upcoming months (this now includes London, U.K.).
  • If you reside in an area in which I do not have planned travel and are unable to present yourself to me here, please enter your story as a non-contestant so that the winner may actually receive his or her ‘prize’.
  • By sending your story entry, you agree to allow me to share it here.


Good Luck.   
– Dana




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

Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Four



Chapter Four:  Couples Therapy


I receive a fair amount of communication from couples. Usually, they are already engaged in some sort of spanking play, and some are living DD or FLDD relationships. A few are interested in learning about spanking from a ‘newbie’ standpoint, and have little to no prior spanking experience but lots of curiosity.


These Couple Playmates -like the VBB and his Wonderful Wife, and the Contest Winner and his Wife – are some of my most enjoyable spanking experiences. Their comfort with me and trust in the disciplinary process are great reminders of how effective domestic discipline can be for all involved when used properly.


It seems that something about ‘sharing’ the experience allows the dominant partner to explore the discipline play in ways which allow her to open up more to the process of fully spanking the living daylights out of her bottom. The most common comment that I hear from bottoms after couple play is:


“She doesn’t usually hit me that hard.”


And from the top:


“I haven’t enjoyed spanking him that much in a long time.”


I know that this is not always the case, as many partners are strictly monogamous in their spanking play…but would like to hear your opinions on ‘sharing’ discipline or play. Is this something which you and your partner have explored, either in private or at a spanking gathering? If it is, what differences do you notice in your play style, intensity levels, or mood afterward? And if not, why?


– Dana

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

‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Entry: F/M Spanking Stories



Readers,


It is impossible to be a fan of spanking and not know who Dana Specht is…and this entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest gives more good reason to respect this powerful disciplinarian. As this is a ‘true story’ submitted by one of my readers, I’ve edited a few specific details in order to protect anonymity.
Enjoy!
– Dana

*****
My birthday spanking/session with Ms. Dana Specht!
I have been married for 30 years to the most wonderful woman in the world. About 15 years ago I asked her if she would spank me and take over as domestic disciplinarian in my life. It’s a long story of how we got to where we are today but in a nutshell she agreed. I will be 60 in June of this year and by chance my wife was on *** and found Dana Specht. Her videos of scolding and spanking were learning tools for my wife when she was just getting into this crazy life we have now. So, Ms. Specht is definitely a BIG star in both of our eyes. Ms. Specht posted that she was coming to *** (where we live) in April for a vacation and sessions. My wife told me later you can’t get better odds than that  ***…so she sent Ms. Specht a couple e-mails and they set up this session for April a couple months before my actual birthday. Now of course my wife had to tell me about this. After all spankings are consensual and if I walked into a room and there was Dana Specht standing there I would have run out the door and probably got hit by a cab or something.  Anyway, scared and reluctant I agreed and tried to mentally prepare for the upcoming “session”. 
I didn’t sleep the night before at all…the session was scheduled for 2 in the afternoon. We both arrived at the hotel and the wife made the call, “We are here”, and up the elevator we went.  We arrived at the door of the room and I was actually shaking with anticipation, nerves, sheer terror…Imagine Dana Specht was on the other side of that door. My wife went in first and the two of them hugged like old friends. Ms. Specht is very pretty and has a beautiful figure; she wore a simple short length black sleeveless dress, black hose, and patent leather high heels…classy all the way. 
Her tools were fanned out on one of the two hotel room beds…brushes, straps, and small paddles, all small enough to easily pack in a suitcase. I was scared to death, shaking, and the first thing I said when I entered the room was “It’s really her, it’s really her”, and was overcome with emotion. I too hugged her immediately – after all, she’s a legend in the spanking world!
We had a wonderful sit-down conversation for 15 minutes, just to settle the butterflies and get to know each other a bit. We discussed my upcoming birthday, and she read an email my wife had sent her, the things she wanted her to “address” with me in terms of scolding and making the spanking meaningful. Let me just say, she is really good, I mean really good, at what she does!! She is not sadistic, she is not mean, she sets the mood, the mindset, she is very very personal, and focused on you. She did her homework and knew exactly what to say even though we had never met before. I would absolutely recommend her sessions to anyone! When she read the e-mail I started to get a little squirmy, the scolding had begun in a mild way but I was starting to feel like I was in the principal’s office and it wasn’t going to end up well. 
She moved over to one of the beds and positioned herself and straightened her skirt. Her posture was perfect. Her demeanor changed ever so slightly as she gently scolded me a little more and directed me to remove my shirt. Now remember my wife is sitting on the other bed watching all this and taking pictures for crying out loud!!!!! Next thing I know she is undoing my belt saying naughty boys have to remove their pants when they get spanked..so off they came and I folded them neatly on the chair. Then she had me turn around and inspected and patted my bum and said, “What happens to naughy boys?” I said, “They get spanked”. She said, “That’s right and where do they get spanked?”  I said, “On the bum”. She said, “What kind of bum?” I replied, “The bare bum ma’am?” Well, down came the underpants and I neatly folded them on the chair. Now I am naked other than white socks, a red face and standing with my arms at my side and my head down. Not a pretty sight to look at I am sure!
This whole time, she was scolding me about my bad habits, and telling me I was naughty and needed this spanking badly. My wife said afterward I was all submissive and saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” like I was born to it. She started with OTK with the hand, let me say she is absolutely masterful at hand spanking! Wow, and double-wow. The birthday spanking was all done with her hand – she doubled it, 60 each cheek. Then over the course of the next 45 minutes she moved to 3 different straps, 3 brushes, and 2 wooden paddles. Periodically she had me get up and look at my bum in the full length mirror, and at least 4 or 5 times, she gently lotioned my bottom with aloe vera, to give me a break I think and also helped keep her hand from drying out as well. She also said the lotion makes the swats sting a little more and then she and the wife laughed about spanking a wet bottom. Let me say that I will never smell aloe vera again without thinking of that afternoon. My wife and she conversed during it, the wife took pictures, they talked technique, and my loving wife kept touching me every once in a while just to reassure me I was doing great, especially towards the end, when the wood was hitting my fire-red bottom.
The emotion of the session is something I would compare to therapy, at least for me. I have PTSD that just recently cropped up after years of repression (the 60’s really sucked for a lot of us guys). This session brought out a ton of emotions that no therapist could ever do. I cried several times not necessarily from the pain but just the total emotional release of it all. She was so sweet and gentle in her persona yet so direct and powerful as a disciplinarian. 
At the end of it, the endorphins had definitely kicked in, and she just held me, cradled my head, told me all was forgiven and I was a good boy again. I could barely walk, it was the endorphins…she had me sit down for another 15 minutes just to collect myself, and we just chatted some more about our lives and histories. Half that time, I was still totally naked, and didn’t even realize it! That’s how “in the zone” I was, my wife said it was amazing to witness.  She gave me homework to do, this letter being one and I must write her once a month to keep her advised on my promises to change the bad habits my wife wrote her about. We all hugged, took a couple more pictures and we headed home. My wife said in the car that of course she had to spank me just a little more when we got home. She said her hand was itching the whole time watching, just wanting to swat my sore cheeks herself. I was pretty much out of it for two hours after the session, it was like being on a drug. ***
I sit here writing this now the day after the session. My bum is still very sore and carries the “badges of honor” us guys love to look at over and over after a good lickin’. In closing let me say that Ms. Specht is a sweet, strong woman, very personable and one terrific disciplinarian. My wife said she learned a few techniques she didn’t know about…that inner thigh thing she does with that leather strap… forget-a-bout-it…yikes! I would also like to thank my wife for this wonderful gift. We both will never forget that windy April tuesday afternoon *** with the wonderful Ms. Dana Specht.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘My Birthday Spanking’ Contest Entry: F/F Spanking Stories



This F/F entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, submitted by my dear friend Angel, is eloquently written and terribly realistic. (Since a few of my friends do enjoy submitting stories for the contests, and most especially because I do not wish to show favoritism, their entries are allowed as non-contestants. Angel receives her ‘fair share’ of spankings regardless, I assure you.)

– Dana

*****


I arrived at the studio an hour earlier than was originally scheduled, after having received a last minute e-mail from Dana politely inquiring if I could make arrangements to meet her at 12 instead of 1.  I, of course, obliged – not even bothering to see if there was a reason.  I didn’t think it mattered and simply assumed she wanted to make sure we had enough time to get acquainted with each other before we had our first professional session with her client.
 It was no inconvenience to me since I was planning to arrive early anyway .  After all, I had  learned  that traffic or weather conditions are never to be fully relied upon and there is no excuse for being late.  For instance, if there happens to be an upturned trailer that collided with a roaming wild turkey that escaped from an alien ship right before you got to the tolls, making it the case that it takes you an extra 37 minutes to get into the city – this is still only an excuse, and not a “reason. ” Had you had brains enough to leave just a little earlier, the whole space alien turkey collision would  not have affected you.
So yes, I was planning to be there early – and I was.  Thankfully, there were no impossible events that interfered with my good intentions and I found myself with 42 minutes to spare. However, just before pressing the buzzer to the studio, it suddenly registered that I was nervous.  “Oh, no.  You didn’t account for this,” I told myself while extending my hand in midair and then retracting it, unable to find the nerve to press the button. 
“Uh oh, this is not good,” I said aloud, not realizing it.  When people started looking at me funny, I realized that approximately 7 minutes later I was having a full blown conversation with myself.  I half ran to the coffee shop on the corner until I could figure out what to do.  I wanted to call my Mistress, but I knew if I did that the sound of Her voice would make me clingy and emotional, and that it would probably end with some kind of rebuke – suggesting that if I was not on my best behavior for Dana that I would have to contend with Her discipline.  This fantasy based deterrent gave me a new anxiety and I started to contemplate why I was even nervous in the first place.
I had spoken to Dana via e-mail several times.  She didn’t seem at all purposefully intimidating, and she is really so sweet that it wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hard time faking “mean.”  She is aware that I’m involved in a 24/7 D/s relationship with my Mistress – so I didn’t leave out any details.   I didn’t do anything to upset her.  None of it made any sense really.  But I couldn’t shake it.  Maybe it’s just those first time jitters one gets when interacting with someone new, was what I kept telling myself.  But at this point, it didn’t really matter.  I only had a few more moments of free time before I had to go meet her.
“Just do it!” I yelled at myself (in my head this time).  This gave me momentary courage – until I remembered the story my Mistress told me about the inspiration behind that slogan.  It was modeled after Gary Gilmore’s “Let’s do it” proclamation right before he was put to death by a firing squad.  Nope.  Suddenly I was all unsettled again and relying solely on the knowledge that if I ran away my Mistress would hunt me down and do something terrible to me.  I might not be alive to suffer any repercussions from Dana so I didn’t mull that over too much.  I don’t know what I was doing really, but somehow I managed to make it to door, even up the elevator – all while in some kind of blind daze.


(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to read the complete story.)


Mistress Ariana opened the door.  Usually I would run and hug her, but this time I froze.  She looked at me quizzically and then asked me if I was going to come in.  Nope.  I wasn’t going to go in.  I shook my head.  In her uniquely dominant and comical way, she dragged me inside against my will.  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded to know.  I refused to answer.  “Should I call your Mistress?” she asked dripping of sweetness, trying to pretend like it wasn’t a threat but rather a genuine point of concern – but I knew what she doing.  I shook my head again and Ariana told me to go to the back room where Dana was waiting to meet me.  Thankfully, she didn’t follow me because she got distracted with a ringing phone and she had to buy a hut for her smurfs on the iPad.
I started to walk hesitantly, my body obviously not complying with my scattered and frantic thoughts.  I passed Kevin in the hallway, “Ang, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I lied.  The word sounded strange but I was relieved to have said it.  I thought I had lost the ability to speak.  I contemplated calling Mistress Mona.  But having already told me such wonderful things about Dana, I’m sure this would  have gotten me into trouble.  I suddenly sucked in a deep breath, realizing and being thankful that neither my Mistress nor Mistress Mona were at the studio – because at this point, I would probably have been introduced to a startled Dana by one of them dragging me into greet her… by my hair.
Kevin freed my from my fate by knocking on the door for me, noticing that Ariana was about to hang up the phone and find me idling in her hallway.  He gently pushed me into the room before Dana had the chance to extend her welcome invitation.  Her “Come in,” was rudely interrupted by my clumsy entrance.  I didn’t even look at her as I stumbled, but rather turned towards the door just as it was being slammed shut behind me.  I shut my eyes, suppressing my urge to vow revenge against Kevin.
I might have been able to shut my eyes, but my hearing was still intact.  And I was drawn back into the environment when I heard my name.  “Angel?,” a voice sweetly whispered. 
“No, don’t look at her,” I told myself.  That worked for a full minute before her tone became more pronounced and less questioning.  And the third time, a stern sounding “Angel” was accompanied by the clicking of heels on the floor and I knew she was approaching me from behind.  I finally found the courage to turn around, and was met with a curious eyebrow raising gesture.
“Hi there,” she smiled.
“Hi?” I responded, my voice sounding small and terrified.
“Are you okay?” 
“No.  Yes.  No.  I don’t know,” was the only thing I could stupidly come up with as my eyes darted anxiously across the floor.  I thought to myself that I wanted my Mistress, which prompted me immediately out of my stupor – I would  not want Her so much if She were there to take me across her knee for acting so strangely. 
My gaze finally rose to meet Dana’s, and for the first time I noticed how striking her blue eyes were, contrasting with her stark black hair.  She was very professional looking, with a tight fitting blouse, blue-black jeans and a pair of simple heels.  “Oh no,” I thought to myself, again… “She looks like one of those teachers you would fantasize about.”  I studied her, unable to say anything really but secretly impressed.  She was true to her photos, except she was without any implements.  Picturing her with her missing hairbrush or paddle, I got nervous again.
“Angel, what’s wrong?” she asked.
Of course, I lied.  The word naturally escaped my lips as easily as it always did. “Nothing.”  Except with Dana, I did make the effort to sound a little convincing – curious to know if others besides my Mistress could discern it was deception.  It was almost remarkable to me how swiftly that word rolls off the tongue with no regard to the consequences.  So many times this particular lie has found me in a puddle of my own tears with a very sore bottom and yet it continued to betray me.
“Your Mistress told me you might say something like that.  She said you favor “Nothing,” and “I don’t know.”
“What?”  Luckily for me, I screamed that bad and accusatory word only in my head and not into the air.  Unluckily for me, Dana must have read it on my face.  “Now I am going to ask you what’s wrong,” she repeated, her voice sounding quite stern and her glistening blue eyes blazing into mine.  “But this time it’s in your best interest to tell the truth because we both know the answer.”  What kind of conspiracy was this, I wondered.  She spoke to MY Mistress about ME without my knowledge?  This earned my defiant silence as I contemplated such an outrage. Sometimes silence was worse than “I don’t know,” or “Nothing.”  I stared dumbly at her, suddenly too angry to even notice how pretty she was anymore.
I watched her with unmoving eyes as she sat down in the throne chair.  “Come here,” she instructed.  “Let’s have a chat.” 
The audacity!  “Hey, you can’t say that!” I challenged.  Suddenly I was all flustered and perplexed.  “Only my Mistress can say that to me!”  Then, like a possessive child,  I almost yelled at her, “Actually, no one besides my Mistress can say those words to anybody, ever!”  Suddenly I realized how ridiculous that was but I had to swallow it and regain instant composure to lend it credibility, as if it’s perfectly conceivable that my Mistress is the only person on the planet allowed to utter these words: “Let’s have a chat,” in that order, to anyone else on the planet at any given time.  I suppose those words are very sacred to me, and She most definitely owned them in my mind every time they escaped Her lips and I found myself being escorted to some place or another to be almost immediately spanked.
Dana didn’t seem in the least disturbed by my outburst, except that it seemed she was politely trying to conceal a smile.  “You seem very preoccupied with your Mistress, and rightfully so.  But SHE was the one who suggested I  use that line, and now I see why.  You are not behaving very appropriately at the moment and I am sure your attitude with me would displease her.  Don’t you agree?”
I thought about this, for a split second, then nearly dropped to my knees ready to beg her not to tell my Mistress – but knowing  full well that I would have to tell her myself when she asked me about it, and that if I dared to lie to her it would mean big trouble.  I didn’t drop to my knees, but the tears started to stream down my face.  My body started to quiver a little as well and suddenly I felt cold.  Or maybe it was pure defeat.  The mere mention of my Mistress inspiring such a dramatic reaction?  What was happening to me?
Dana had obviously sensed my distress and reminded me to go to her as per her original instructions.  I did without question, the idea of my Mistress gripping me so tightly that all disobedience had instantly disarmed and was now not even within my reach.  “Would you like to know what’s going on?” Dana asked as I slowly made my way on trembling legs towards her.  I nodded.
“I did talk to your Mistress,” She informed me.  By now this was very obvious to me, but I declined to say so. “She told me that you are in trouble.  A great deal of it.  Generously, she decided not to punish you until after we had our session because your bottom wouldn’t be useful to me in the condition she intends to make of it.”  The tears had dried up now, but very small beads of perspiration formed on my brow.  And anywhere a tiny hair existed on my body, it stood at attention in captivated terror.  Not only was I terribly embarrassed She had spoken to another Dominant about my behavior, but also what she was going to do to me – which not even I was ready to comprehend the magnitude of, and probably would not be able to until the very moment it begins.
“You seem very upset, Angel.  Now I don’t want you to panic when I tell  you what’s going to happen next.”  Naturally the first thing one does when told not to panic, is panic.  It’s very much like someone who sees something disturbing on the road and tells you not to look.  You don’t even notice you’re looking until you are screaming at the next person not to do to it.  I wanted to say something but the words were lodged in my throat and I feared if I tried to make them unstuck that I might literally start choking.  Out of fear and desperation, not defiance, I chose to remain silent and merely listen.
Dana continued, unflinching, and emphasizing just the right words to make me cringe and feel a little ill.  “Your Mistress told me that it was recently Her birthday and that She believes birthdays are a new beginning.  It’s Her own little new-year, and a great time for a fresh start.  Having an upcoming birthday, I can certainly understand that.  Now, you’ve spoiled that a little with your misbehavior but she doesn’t think it’s too late for you.  I am here to help: to give you a warm-up for what awaits you at Her hands and, as She offered, to give you something to think about until you see Her next.  I have had to deal with my fair share of brats and I can certainly emphasize with Her frustration.   Now, do you have any objections?”
I was so nervous at this point that I couldn’t object even if I knew what I was objecting to.  It was only logical to conclude that she was going to spank me, but she didn’t exactly use that terminology and so I found myself unwilling, or unable, to connect the dots.  I said “No,” – not because I had no instinctual objections, but because saying “No” just seemed like the absolute worst thing to say.  That, and I knew whatever was happening was because I deserved it – and that my Mistress would never put me in harm’s way or subject me to unearned punishment. What can one do but comply when that is the case? 
“But why didn’t anybody tell me?”  was the only thing I could legitimately allow myself to say to Dana, instantly regretting it because of how pitiful its echo was.  I scanned my brain for the e-mail certain there was no mention of it.
Ms. Kane made no effort to conceal her grin this time but merely beckoned me towards her with the instructional gesture of her index finger that pointed first in her general direction, and then directly towards her lap.  “Because you didn’t take the time to ask,” she said.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘Stuart’s Surprise Birthday Spanking’: F/M Spanking Stories



‘Stuart’s Surprise Birthday Spanking’ is detailed, interesting, and – best of all – a great F/M entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. Enjoy! 
– Dana

*****



STUART’S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY SPANKING


Stuart and Jenna had met at a fall sorority social at a northwestern state university in the 1960’s.   Their romance moved along to the extent that they were seeing each other exclusively and spent a lot of their time outside classes together.   He was a senior Business Administration student, while she was a sophomore in the Faculty of Education, so they shared little of their schedule during the day.   However, lunch was always fun as they gathered in the college cafeteria at his fraternity table or with her sorority sisters.   Most everyone in the crowd knew each other and it was the kind of fun that college kids enjoy.    Stuart had a 1955 Chevrolet hardtop, salmon and grey in color, and he and Jenna spent some passionate evenings parked in secluded areas around the campus.   Things progressed to the point that they both explored each other in what was termed “petting”,  and became very passionate and desired more and more intimate contact.


One evening while they were parked on behind a public school on the playground, Stuart shared with Jenna that he had always been fascinated by spanking, and had thought a lot about sharing that with her.  He told her that he had a strong desire that she would spank him.  Jenna was silent for a few moments, and then asked “Why would you want me to spank you–I care for you so much!”.   Stuart carefully explained that it was a mental and physical turn-on for him, and asked if she would try it.    He said that he had a small wooden paddle that he had hidden in the glove compartment, and showed it to her.   This led to his first spanking by Jenna—over her lap in the car and on his bare bottom.    He loved it, and told her how much it meant that she would agree to spank him.     Over the course of the remaining school year, she would from time to time give Stuart a spanking with the small paddle.


In June, Stuart graduated from college with his business degree, and went off to work on a job with a gas pipeline company in Houston, Texas.    Jenna had a summer job at a packing plant in the northwest, and they were separated by several thousand miles.   They wrote and phoned each other as much as possible, but the separation hurt the relationship as Stuart started to date Ruth who worked in his employer’s head office.  


As his 22nd birthday approached in late August, Stuart received a phone call from Jenna, who informed him that she was taking one week off at the end of her summer and flying to Houston to visit him.     She informed him that “I will be there two days before your birthday, and not leaving until three days after it.  I want to be with you every day that week”.     “Great”, Stuart replied. “I will pick you up at the airport in Houston and it can just be the two of us together!    Wow!, I am so excited that you are coming here!”.


The day soon came that he picked Jenna up in the afternoon when her flight landed in Houston.    They kissed and held hands as they walked to the car.     “I will take you right to my apartment and you can get freshened up and then I will take you out for dinner”, said Stuart.     “Fantastic!   All I have had to eat today was peanuts and crackers on the flight…and I am starving” replied Jenna.      At the apartment there was some wonderful kissing, touching and feeling, and then Jenna excused herself to take a shower and change into a nice pants suit.      When she emerged from the bedroom all freshened up, she announced that she had brought a special birthday present for Stuart, but that he would have to take her out to dinner first, and then she would share it when they got back to the apartment.


They went to a nice steakhouse on the Old Spanish Trail in south Houston, and when they got back to the apartment, Jenna excused herself and went into the bedroom.    Delving into her suitcase, she came out with the mystery present, which was wrapped in gift paper and was about two feet long and only a few inches wide.   She kissed Stuart and said “Now open it up”.     Stuart wondered what it could be but saw that it was a flexible package.   He undid the wrapping and to his surprise and somewhat delight, saw a black razor strap that had apparently been modified by cutting off some of its length.   It was only about a foot and a half long counting the molded handle.    It was two layers thick, but there was tape around it binding the two layers together.   Stuart saw that it was about three inches wide, or maybe a little less.


Jenna had a sly smile on her face as she spoke to Stuart.  “I hope you like my surprise gift, and what I plan on doing with it.    You need a good birthday spanking, and I am ready to give it to you now!”.   Stuart gulped, as he eyed the strap which she had picked up.     “Please go into the bedroom and take off your clothes and prepare for a real spanking”, she said.    Stuart’s heart started to pound—she had a serious look and he started to undress.   But, he was anxious to follow her instructions and see where this led.   Soon he was standing stark naked and Jenna came into the bedroom and said “Pile the pillows in the middle of the bed, and then lay over them with your bottom in the air.   I want to see it extended and waiting for my strap”.      Stuart did just what she instructed, and as he lay over the pillows with his bare bottom stuck in the air, he shivered and awaited the first blow of the razor strap.


Jenna said “Stuart, I love you and know you need this spanking.   Since it is your 22nd birthday, I will give you one stroke for each year.   Don’t move until I am done.   You will count each stroke”.   “Yes, dear” replied Stuart.     In only a few seconds the first stroke of the strap landed square across the middle of his bottom.    It hurt immediately with a sharp, serious pain.  “Oh! Ouch!…..er…One” exclaimed Stuart with his face buried in the bedsheet.     Some ten or so seconds later the second strap stroke landed with a sharp smacking noise.   “Two!”  “Ow—not so hard—that really stings!” he pleaded.    Jenna did not reply, but instead landed a harder third stroke to his now reddening behind.   “Please, Jenna—why so hard!!” he pleaded.    “I did not hear a count” was all she said.   “Three!” he responded.     The birthday strapping went on through all 22 strokes, and by about the 10th one his bottom was becoming a very dark red and as she progressed through the next ten, it was clear that some bruises were evident.    Still, Jenna kept laying on the razor strap to his enflamed buttocks, until finally he was able to gasp “Twenty two!”.     The strapping ended and he rubbed his sore bottom with his hands.     “Here, Stuart, that is my job and I have brought some soothing lotion for your bottom” Jenna said.    She had a jar of some cooling ointment and rubbed his bottom with it.    While there was no doubt that he had received a very hard birthday spanking, he felt a rush and sort of relief that she had come all this way with such a gift and then gave him his first really hard spanking as an adult.    “I love you–you gave me just what I needed for my birthday” he told her.  Their lovemaking was the most passionate that they had ever experienced.     They enjoyed the next few days together, and while he did not receive any more spankings from Jenna, he cherished the memory of that one birthday spanking that she had lovingly given him.    


The End.

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

Spanking PSA: Professional Etiquette

Readers,


While the content of this PSA may not pertain to all of you, I believe that it will serve as an excellent learning tool for some.


There are some things which I consider understood and unspoken that, sadly, do not naturally occur to everyone. While I am not in the advice-giving business, nor do I speak for my fellow professional disciplinarians, it seems a good idea to point out some generally helpful guidelines for those considering contacting/interacting with myself or one of my skilled contemporaries.


First, it is recommended that you take a look at the website of the person with whom you’d like to communicate. Actually read about them, their interests, and their preferred method of contact.


Then, stop. Think about what you’d like to say before you say it. If you are thinking of using any of the myriad words to describe your genitalia, it’s state or function, or of discussing your masturbatory habits…go back to the first guideline. Does the person in question specifically request – anywhere on the site – this information? (The answer will almost always be NO – they do not.) 


This is about your backside, not your front side.


Next, either make a considerate telephone call or send a respectful introductory email. Introduce yourself, state your interests, and provide any requested information.


That seems very simple, doesn’t it?


Just in case, here are a couple examples:


Example #1: The Bad Email Example


hey, call me i need a hard spankin 
how much do u charge?


Example #2: The Good Email Example


Hello Ms Kane,


My name is Joe and I am interested in receiving a spanking from you. I am 54, fit, and have references available upon request. Please let me know if I may be considered.


Regards,
Joe
###-###-####


– Dana

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

‘A Perfect Spanking Storm’ : A true story, by the VBB

Readers,


I won’t lie – the VBB nearly won this round.  
He was at his super-bratty best, and his Wonderful Wife and I fairly exhausted ourselves in the effort to subdue his behavior. This ‘topping from the bottom’ may seem fairly obvious in retrospect, but it took nearly an hour for it to sink in to us that day…the VBB was messing with our heads.
There we were, working our disciplinarian fingers to the bone, while his brattiness continued to escalate. (It should go without saying that this boy has an exceptional pain threshold to back up his smart-ass comments, so our playtimes are much more intense than the average spanking enthusiast would or could endure.)
After a bit of consideration, I decided that we’d need to take stronger measures if we were to regain control of the situation. 


From the VBB:

A Perfect Spanking Storm


It was a perfect spanking storm; two determined and unwavering disciplinarians, one feisty VBB, an unusually higher pain tolerance, a spanking challenge and the emergence of a very bratty inner child. It seems as though the spanking stars and planets were perfectly aligned and the spanking gods had given their blessings for this perfect storm to take place. In its wake was left a trail of utter destruction; five broken implements, two exhausted disciplinarians with one sustaining a bruised leg, an extremely inflamed, bruised, and throbbing backside, two sore feet, two aching nipples and one sincerely remorseful VBB. It was a day to remember, a day which will probably never happen again, a day which no one came out the winner and nothing was settled. It was a day which each of us will remember and probably not wish for it to happen again. It was the perfect spanking storm.
It started off simply enough, a short email proposing a challenge for our upcoming visit. The challenge was straightforward; could Ms. Dana and my Wife both break a bath brush over my bottom at the same time? The challenge was accepted, brushes were bought and rules set in place. As the day of our visit came I started to have some doubts, I was beginning to rethink the saneness of the challenge as I remembered how much it hurts when a bath brush is broken on my bottom. I sent an email that morning trying to convince Ms. Dana that we should forgo the challenge. Her response clearly revealed she had no interest at all in abandoning the challenge. I tried a number of times to convince my Wonderful Wife to forgo the challenge, all to no avail. As our appointed time came for our session I made one last appeal to Ms. Dana and my Wonderful Wife and as before it only fell on deaf ears, although I was given an opportunity to explain why I wanted to call off the challenge. I explained my reasoning that it was going to hurt a lot and Ms Dana simply said “of course it’s going to hurt” and with that my final plea was shot down. Ms. Dana suggested they start off methodical and hard and I suggested they don’t start at all. Telling me to be quiet they proceeded to prove that they could both break a bath brush over my bottom at the same time. My wife quickly matched Ms. Dana’s rhythm and intensity and after only eight hits Ms. Dana’s brush shattered. This made my Wife even more determined to break Hers. With Ms. Dana cheering Her on She increased Her intensity and was determined not to stop until it was broken. Unfortunately Her bath brush split instead of breaking. Because the brush split it was pinching my bottom every time it made contact with my bum. So with a bit of disappointment and in the interest of always playing safe and sane we had to stop the challenge. As the challenge came to an abrupt and unceremonious end we all just kind of paused for a few moments as we processed the fact that the challenge was over before it really began. Looking over at the end table one of us mentioned Dana’s new resin bath brush which she had just bought and wondered out loud if it would have lasted longer. So Ms. Dana picked up her new resin bath brush and gave me a good whack with it. My ill-fated response was to issue a chuckle and utter some uncontrolled smart-ass comment. This led to an unexpected and very hard painful smack to the fleshy part of my upper leg. Her new bath brush immediately broke in half and left a nice big red mark on my leg. Thus in the first five minutes of our play session three implements had already met their fate and others were soon to follow.
It was then my inner bratty child reared his obnoxious head and before I knew it I was channeling the little bratty bugger. From that point, it just all went downhill. Finding myself in a semiconscious state my bratty inner child took over and began uncontrollably to utter smart assed comments. At first Ms. Dana was just keeping track of all the bratty comments. However, as my bratty inner child increasingly became brattier the smart-ass comments were met with a hard and sound smack. The harder and longer the smacks the brattier my inner child became and the smarter the comments were. Before we knew it we found ourselves embroiled in a battle of determination, Ms. Dana and my Wife determined to curb my bratty comments and my inner bratty child was determined to not give in. This battle went on for a while which eventually lead to the demise of two more implements one wooden spoon and Dana’s loop cane which I believed was featured in Her last product testing video. Being that I often bear the blame and unfairly suffer the consequences when one of Her implements is broken, I became very nervous when I saw the broken loop cane. I quickly reminded Ms. Dana that She could send the loop cane in and it will be replaced with a new one. I was very relieved when She mentioned that She was not worried about replacing the loop cane. The battle continued and as the causalities mounted my bottom was beginning to show the results of our very heavy play. It was determined that my bottom had reached the point where we needed to stop. So once again, in the interest of always playing safe and sane Ms. Kane and my Wonderful Wife called a halt to the unrelenting beating of my bottom.
One would think if a spanko’s bottom was no longer eligible for play that the session would come to an end. Well not in my case, my bratty inner child was still lurking about and the two Lovely Ladies were still determined to rein in my bratty inner child, thus came Ms. Dana’s solution to their dilemma. She would show my Wife various new and creative ways of inflecting physical pain and discomfort upon my person. As a result my feet, nipples and other areas of my personhood enter into the devastating battlefield of determination and quickly became causalities themselves. Once I knew their plan I boldly spoke up and told Ms. Dana “You do not need to teach my Wife anything new” of course, this was met with the same results as my other objections. So off they went Ms. Dana teaching new and disturbing ways of inflecting physical pain and discomfort and my Wife eagerly and enthusiastically soaking it all in and gleefully trying everything Ms. Dana showed Her. It was amazing how a change in battle plans affected my inner bratty child, all of a sudden my inner child was no longer as eager to be so bratty. After some very unpleasant and agonizing cane strikes to my feet, my bratty inner child was no longer wanting to play. Once they tired of “playing” with my feet, Ms. Dana proceeded to teach my Wife other evil skills which she enthusiastically put into practice but are two nefarious to describe here. Thus was the beginning of the end of the perfect spanking storm and the presences of my bratty inner child.
Regrettably, before my inner bratty child was brought under control I made a few unfortunate decisions that got me into some real trouble and led to some very painful and humbling consequences. I must have been worried that Angel was getting to close to taking over in the naughtiness department that I momentarily lost my mind and shot my Wife the OK gesture which unfortunately has negative implications for Her. What is worse I know better than to ever give Her the OK sign. I knew I was in real trouble when one second She was standing at the foot of the bed and the next second She was an inch from my face pinching my nipples and reminding me just how much She does not like that gesture. My Wife response to my gesture happened so fast that I had no time to react or to be scared. In fact, Her response was so immediate that I think it took Ms. Dana by surprise. Dana quickly assessed what I had done was a series breach of respect so she jumped right in to lend a hand. If that was not foolish enough my second unfortunate decision of the day certainly was. I made a somewhat mocking head shake while Ms. Dana was talking. I knew it was a very big mistake when She immediately stopped and stared straight at me and asked very sternly if I had just mocked Her. Without even giving me a chance to respond, She went from Ms. Dana to Ms. Kane disciplinarian. Unlike my Wife, Ms. Kane provided plenty of time for my fear level to skyrocket. She grabbed a thick solid wooden spoon and proceeded to give me one of the most scathing and frightening scolding’s I think I have ever received. She then ordered me to lift my shirt where She proceeded to administer the most painful two smacks to my nipples with her wooden spoon. The pain from the first smack was so terrific that I doubled over and covered my chest; the worst moment was when She told me to stand up and lift my shirt again so She could smack the other side. By then my inner bratty child had completely disappeared and left me standing all alone hesitantly raising my shirt and dreading what was about to happen. While the two smacks to my nipples were extremely painful I would gladly have taken more just to avoid the scathing scolding She gave me. I quickly remembered my Wife and Ms. Kane are strictly holding me responsible for my behavior and they are not giving me any leeway with my misbehavior. Ms. Kane made it very clear that I am never allowed to mock Her or allowed to show any type of disrespect to Her or my Wife. Needless to say I offered a very sincere apology to both of them admitting that my behavior was out of line and I never should have disrespected them as I did. I left a comment to Angel on her last entry to Dana’s website suggesting we should try to go six months before either of us got in trouble with Ms. Kane again. Well I think I made it a week before I found myself in trouble with Ms. Kane. However, once these indiscretions were resolved we were back on good terms and once again enjoying our time together.




Back in March when I first emailed Ms. Kane, I never dreamed our relationship with Ms. Kane would develop the way it has. I certainly never expected that my Wife would call on Her again to help Her administer a well-earned punishment. I never anticipated I would be held accountable by two strong dominate women who have no issues whatsoever in administering discipline and holding me to a much higher standard of behavior than I have exhibited in the past. I 22never in my wildest dreams ever thought I would not only have a Wonderful Wife as my HoH but also have a Professional Disciplinarian to whom I would have to give an account to and be responsible to. To my Wonderful Wife thank you for loving me, accepting me with all my faults, accepting my spanking desires and for being my HoH. To Ms. Kane thank you for caring the way you do and expecting more from me than I expect from myself. Thank you for
not being afraid of calling me on the carpet and not letting me get away with hiding bad behavior.


Sincerely a Very Sore VBB

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

Video: A Couple more F/F Scenes for Discipline Academy

Not only am I always happy to do a little video for my Discipline Academy friends, but it is never hard to convince me that Angel needs punishing.


Here are a couple clips/links to DA’s clips4sale store:

In this clip, Angel is receiving just punishment for breaking the dress code in nearly every possible way.

In the second video, Ms Mona Rogers and I are forced to take strong measures…

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

‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ : Original Spanking Stories



Readers, enjoy ‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ – an excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. I think you’ll like the *slant* as much as I did.


– Dana

*****
It’s Not Always What You Think

“Tonight is going to be it,” I thought excitedly, looking at my friends around the table “my very first spanking!” My wonderful collection of friends were joyful, laughing and talking like the eccentric, motley crew they were, gathered to celebrate my birthday with me. The seat next to me was empty, awaiting Michael, my wonderful new beau. Soon he would arrive, the party would wind down, and then he would take me home for my first real spanking. We’d been flirting about this for weeks now, the slow delicious build up of an incipient relationship. I was finally becoming comfortable with what I wanted from a man, after years and years of embarrassment and denial. For as long as I could remember, I’d longed for a man to take control of me, to put me over his knee and let me know I was safe and accountable. Tonight was the night!
Part of what had drawn me to Michael was his aura of sexual knowledge and mastery. When we’d started talking, he’d known SO MUCH! My head spun with each new detail. Doms, subs, spanking techniques, exquisite torture… he teased me with the promise of future experiences, then taught me submission by making me wait.  Tonight, my birthday, I was so overwhelmed with expectation and longing, I could barely sit still in my chair.
The evening was almost over but Michael still hadn’t arrived. He’d done this before and each time I was more on edge. He was later than usual tonight. As the party trudged on, and I grew more and more brittle inside, my best friend Donna poked me in the side.
“Stop that! Quit looking at the door. Be present.” Donna and her girlfriend Helen were my inner circle. Donna was my roommate in college. We’d been sister/friends ever since. When Helen came along, and she was just so damned perfect for Donna, there was nothing I could do but add her to my short list of people I love. Donna and Helen have had my back, and I theirs for so many years it’s second nature. When I finally blurted out, in an unguarded, drunken moment during a teary heart-to-heart, what I REALLY wanted from a man, after years of unsuccessful dating, Donna had taken it more in stride than I had, and became my “go to” person for fetish knowledge. Now, as the dinner wound down to a close, she slipped an envelope into my hand. “Open this at home, and use it as you see fit. You won’t be disappointed.”
Just as she did, the waitress wove her way between the tight tables to come to my side. “You just got a message on the landline. Michael Oscar says he’s been calling your cell but isn’t getting through. He’s not going to be able to make it.” She smiled companionably. “I guess he’s too caught up with his New Girl to make it out for ‘just friends’.
The world took an ugly jolt. “I beg your pardon?” I felt lightheaded but strangely calm. I’d never seen this girl before. She couldn’t possibly know my boyfriend. She balanced on her toes, holding her drink tray to her chest. “Michael Oscar, who works IT at the lab, right? He’s seeing one of the waitresses over at Dirty Dogs’. I hear they’re into some wild stuff, those two. And a weekend night off is a rare thing in waitress-world. It’s usually only Mondays.” She winked. “You know, we hear everything on the waitress- grapevine.” Her message delivered, she spun away, easing through the tables like a dancer.
I sat still, frozen but frantic, and reviewed everything I thought I knew. Michael had never taken me to Dirty Dogs’. He said he couldn’t stand the atmosphere. He was never available on Mondays, and in fact, usually saw me at the last moment, and at home, or a local neighborhood bistro. I had once commented that we could venture out in public more, but he had said he knew I was an introvert, and he preferred our quiet time together. As I thought it all through in my head, the many, tiny red flags I’d ignored coalesced into one giant “You Big Dummy” flag. My heart felt as if it would burst onto the floor right then and there, but of course, Donna and Helen didn’t let it happen. Donna bustled me up, gracefully ending the party. She and Helen got me home, and nestled into bed surrounded by my shiny, new presents. She set my card against the bedside lamp, made me a cup of tea, started a favorite mushy movie on the DVD player, kissed me on the top of my head and left me to my thoughts. 
After a good hard, cry, I checked my cell for messages (none from him, but who was looking anyway), then opened my card from Donna and Helen. Inside was a beautifully designed gift certificate for one session with the “Divine Dana Kane.” Across the bottom was a web address. On the back was a handwritten note “Here’s hoping your experiences live up to your highest expectations. We’re sure this one will. Much love, Donna & Helen.” 
Curious, and desperate not to think about Michael and the huge tornado that was slowly forming in my chest, I pulled my laptop off the bedside table. Her site came up quickly. I spent the next few hours poring over every single page. Some sent chills through me. Some made me so hot I had to get up to walk around. But the sum of the many parts left every nerve ending in my body awake and tingly. Even more, I suddenly had a whole host of possibilities buzzing around in my head.
Sunday, when Michael called, I was relieved to hear from him. But now I was listening with, as my second grade teacher used to say “my big girl ears on.”  He was so sorry to have missed my dinner. (Uh huh.) He had to work late on Monday so Monday wouldn’t be good. (Right, makes sense.) We could meet for lunch on Wednesday. (Not good for me. In the past I would have changed my plans. Not now, however.) He owed me a birthday present, he teased, and he would do whatever I wanted. What. ever. I. wanted, he emphasized. I played up how incredibly busy I would be at work this week. The less available I seemed, the more anxious to get together Michael became. Interesting.  His hardcore flirting still made my knees weak, but I found I was sifting it for content, and finding it thin. Michael, I realized, was a disappointer, a flirt who flirted until he thought he’d caught you, then slowly backed away.
At his insistence we met for coffee before work Thursday morning, but by then I had watched he and his new flirt-ette as they left the Dirty Dog together after her shift on Tuesday. I could tell by his body language that he was playing her too. Good to know. We made a date to get together for lunch on Saturday. And I set to work on my plans.
Saturday was a lovely day. I wore a particularly fetching outfit, a low cut corset-style blouse and a soft, flowing skirt over boots. I’m not the woman your eye goes to immediately but I can look good, and I did. Michael was particularly complimentary, and began hinting about “making up for lost time” after we ran the few errands I needed to do before lunch. He hated that I wanted to take my car but I reasoned that one of my errands was to pick up a car part. Better to have it than not. Our first errand was for my dry cleaning.  The second was to a lovely house, in a well-to-do neighborhood. 
“Good morning,” I said to the imposing woman who answered the door. She let us in with an impersonal air, looked us over and led us into a parlor that obviously served as a waiting room of sorts. Michael paced around curiously. I sat demurely in a chair, watching him evaluate.
“Nice place,” he said grudgingly. “What are we doing here?”
“It’s the birthday present you owe me” I said “and a going away present of sorts.” I tried to keep the triumph out of my voice. A door opened down the hall and I could hear the fast rat-a-tat of high heels heading firmly toward us. “This should be quick and painless” I smiled to him “at least for me. Michael, I’d like you to meet Ms. Dana Kane. You’ll do exactly as she says.”
As he followed her down the hall, as I gathered up my car keys and headed for the door, I thought of him finding his way home later with what Ms. Kane promised would be a very sore bottom, and of the video she’d promised to send me. It was a very good birthday spanking indeed.

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

Zoe: A note from the Contest Winner’s Wife



Dear Dana,

I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity to spend such an enjoyable afternoon of spanking with you. I wanted to write, not just to say thanks, but also to give voice to the experience of a wife (me) who is often less enthusiastic about spanking than the man she is married to. Our session with you was a happy reminder of the fun that can be had with spanking despite my occasional ambivalence towards it. Spending the afternoon with you and my husband was a thrilling and exhilarating high, filled with risks and adventures (I have never spanked him with anyone else before!) I highly recommend it for any wife, partner, girlfriend, or boyfriend who has ever started to find the ritual of weekly partner spankings to be a chore… it was a fantastic opportunity to remind myself that I can enjoy it for myself, and on my own terms. 
Looking forward to seeing you again soon!
Zoe
******************


Zoe,


The pleasure was mine. Tim’s story was so well-imagined that it was likely I would enjoy his company, but you were a delightful bonus! Beautiful and skilled – you are a formidable disciplinarian.
I will look forward with much anticipation to the opportunity to play with you two again.


– Dana
*********


Readers,


THIS is why I hold the writing contests. Every single one has led to my meeting and playing with someone who I find interesting and intelligent. It’s not just about the stories…it’s also about the storytellers.


– Dana

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

‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!’ : F/M Spanking Stories

The ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest was a lot of fun, and it looks like the entrants enjoyed themselves, too. The author of ‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton’ is yet another example of the wonderful readers and contributors of this blog. Thank you again.


– Dana

*****

Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!

Greg Thornton was in a funk.  His girl friend of two year’s, Ashley Finney, unceremoniously dumped him two months earlier.  She told him she just couldn’t wait any longer for him to grow up.  Although Greg had a good paying job the last five years with Kramer Internet Marketing he still lived with his parents, had no savings and blew his time and money with daily visits to the corner pub and monthly junkets with his college friends to Vegas.  The poor boy was clueless and was completely taken off guard when Ashley dressed him down on a Friday evening after he showed up drunk and two hours late for a date.
His work suffered more than usual.  He showed up late about twice a week since his misfortune.  He missed a meeting with his boss the week before and a client got so fed up with him they requested a change in the personnel handling their account.  Greg was ordered to report to his boss’ office where they would review his performance.  How could I have let things get to this point he thought?  I use to be someone; star running back on my High School Football team, Class President, Dean’s List and Cum Laude graduate from the University.  The proudest day of my life was when I got my dream job at the age of 25 as a Junior Account Executive at Kramer internet.  Now I’m on the verge of getting fired.  
Greg’s visits to his bosses office were usually the same.  His boss Marybeth Bennett would tell him his strengths; his charm, his easy going manner, his skill when he was motivated and his intelligence.  Then would come a discussion of his tribulations at work; showing up late, hung over, not returning calls to clients and his bad attitude.  Greg would apologize and promise to do better.  Marybeth Bennett was a beautiful woman, raven black hair, hour glass figure, pouty lips and piercing blue eyes.  At 35 she was only about five years older than Greg, but was more of a Mother figure than a boss or contemporary.  She coddled Greg, not due to any romantic designs but because she saw the potential he was wasting.
This trip on Tuesday morning to Ms. Bennett’s office was different.  She asked Greg what was wrong, he had never been a model employee but the past eight weeks had been intolerable.  The next slip up would result in a suspension and the one after, his dismissal.  Greg saw the disappointment in his boss’ eyes and opened up.  He explained about getting dumped, for no good reason!  He felt like he was in a rut, he tried to work hard, but never got promoted, he was coming up on his 30th birthday that Friday and he thought his life so far was a big waste.  Marybeth had enough of Greg’s wallowing.  “What do you expect the poor girl to do, wait until she’s 40 for you to grow up and move out of your parent’s home?  As far as work is concerned, how can you expect to get promoted?  Even when your work is good you have an infraction at least once a month.  If I asked Ms. Kramer to promote you I’d be fired on the spot for incompetence.”  With that she dismissed Greg from her office.
Greg took his talk to heart, for the first time he actually thought about his life through the eyes of others.  He was a pretty horrible boy friend, always taking Ashley for granted.  He never realized that Ms. Bennett could get into trouble with Ms. Kramer for covering for him.  He resolved to lay low at least for a while until all of this blew over.


)Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.)


When he returned back to his desk and sat down to his computer, his office mate Barbara Fuller was waiting.  “I’m surprised you’re sitting down to work and not cleaning out your desk.  I can’t believe you’re still working here after all your shenanigans the last two months.”  Barbara was five years Greg’s junior in age but was on the fast track at work.  Although she had only been with Kramer Internet for three years she had been promoted twice and was Greg’s Section Leader.  Greg had rationalized being passed over as reverse sexism at a woman dominated firm, but had to admit that Barbara was brilliant, skilled, articulate, hard working and totally hot.  Barbara was blond, dynamite body, green eyed and about Greg’s height at 5’-9”.  Greg had contemplated asking her out, but she knew he had a steady girl friend and he thought she would reject his advances any way.   He could never score with a girl like that.  
Greg sheepishly replied, “Don’t worry Barb, I’m going to be better.  I’m sorry I have been such a waste these past weeks.  My birthday’s coming up, 30, and the thought of where I am in my life was just too much to handle.  But my talk with Ms. Bennett really cleared my head.  I’ve let you and Ms. Bennett down and it won’t happen again, I promise.”
Barbara retorted, “Well it better not!  I‘m letting you know now, Ms. Bennett has ordered me to report any of your transgressions.  I can’t cover for you any longer!  If I do it could mean my job!”
Greg stated with more confidence, “I understand, you won’t have anything to report, you have my word.” 
“Well at least you’re showing some remorse for the first time since I’ve known you and that’s a start.  But unfortunately your word isn’t worth much right now, with me, Ms. Bennett or Ms. Kramer.  I hope you mean it but time will tell.  Let’s just get back to work.”
Three days went by in a whirl.  For the first time in years Greg was a model employee, showing up on time, clear headed and ready to work.  He even solved a thorny problem from a client and Ms. Bennett got favorable call about Greg for the first time in a year.  It was Friday morning, and Barbara greeted Greg with a smile, “Happy Birthday, Birthday boy, good news, a group of us from work are going to take you out for your Birthday.”
“Thanks Barb, I was going to meet my buddies, but I think they may just drag me back to a place I want to stay away from.  Who’s coming?”, Greg asked.  
Barb replied, “Well it will be me, I’m also your designated driver for the evening, the rest is a surprise.  We’ll be leaving at 5:30 sharp.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, but Greg was excited. He thought, wow, how my fortunes have changed in just four days, things are going well at work and I’m going out with the girl of my dreams for my birthday.  5:30 rolled around and Barbara turned to Greg and said, “Let’s go, don’t want to make everyone wait.”
“For who?”, Greg asked.
“I told you it’s a surprise, so don’t ask again”, Barb replied.
On the way to this Birthday get together, Greg could hardly hold his excitement.  What’s Barb up to, no one came up to me today to wish me Happy Birthday?  Who could be coming?  Barb and I were the last to leave so anyone could be there, he wondered.
About 15 minutes later, they pulled into a restaurant Parking Lot, “The Loft”, one of the best restaurants in town.“  “Gee Barb, I’ve heard this is a great place, but I’ve never been here, didn’t think I could afford it.”
Barb replied, “You’re such a silly boy, if you didn’t waste so much of your money at the corner pub you could treat yourself to a place like this every once in a while.”
Barb asked the Hostess for the “Kramer Internet table”, and they were both escorted to a small booth, with two ladies with their backs to Greg.  When they got to the table, Greg could not believe his eyes, “Msss. Krammerrrer, Msss. Benneeettt,” he stammered.  “I can’t believe you’re here, where is everyone else?”
Diane Kramer was beautiful, but all business.  She had short dark hair, tall, slim, with a muscular build and blue eyes.  If you could say anyone had it all it was Diane Kramer.  She started Kramer Internet marketing at the age of 25 on a shoe string budget.  Now at the age of 40 she had built it into a 100 Million dollar company with her and her husband having sole ownership.  Her dutiful husband was the Chief Financial Officer for their company.  They had three teenage children that excelled in school and in sports.  Diane spent her free time as a tri-athlete.  She said it relieved stress and kept her in prime condition. 
Ms. Kramer was the first to break the ice, “Sit down and relax Greg, we won’t bite, and we’re the only ones coming.  Barbara suggested that since this was your big 3-0 we should take you out for the evening.  I don’t know you well and I like to know all of my workers and it will give me time to see what these two ladies see in you that I can’t understand from your employment record.”
Dinner was delightful.  Greg was able to relax after a couple of cocktails and able to be his best charming self.  All three ladies took a genuine interest in his life, his ambitions and his disappointments.  Greg even was open about his epiphany this past week when Ms. Bennett had to reprimand him for his poor work habits and attitude.  He assured all three ladies that all of those issues were a thing of the past.
Ms. Kramer responded to that, “I certainly hope so Greg and all three of us are going to help you with that.”
Greg only made one slip during the evening when he turned to his boss and said, “so Marybeth what hobbies do you have?”  Both Ms. Bennett and Ms. Kramer’s eyes narrowed and Ms. Bennett said, “Greg I’m Ms. Bennett to you at work, here or anywhere else we may be.”
Greg quickly corrected himself, “I’m so soooorry Ms. Bennett, I know, you will always be Ms. Bennett.”
After dinner their waitress came over to the table and said, “Your private room is ready now Ms. Kramer, can I show you the way.”
“You first Birthday Boy”, said Ms. Kramer as they were all led to a private room in the upper level of the restaurant.  Greg didn’t notice it before, but all three ladies were wearing Stiletto heals and all towered over him by at least 4 inches.  I feel like I’m in the company of three Amazon Princesses he thought to himself.
When they got to the room, there was a small table with four chairs and a small couch.  The table had a small Birthday Cake on it and there was a good size wrapped present on the side.  “May I light the candles”, the waitress said.  
“Please do”, said Ms. Kramer.  The waitress dutifully lit all 30 candles on the cake.  One for each year and then left the room.  The three women sang Happy Birthday to Greg.  He hadn’t felt so special since his Mom and Dad threw him a surprise Birthday 12th Birthday party.  “Okay, Greg now cut the cake for all of us, so we can have desert and coffee”, said Ms. Bennett.  
Greg cut the cake and gave a generous piece to each lady and one for himself, then poured coffee for everyone.  They began to talk some more just like they did at dinner.  When they had finished, Ms. Bennett said, “okay Greg open your gift.”  With great anticipation, Greg opened his “present”.  He opened the box and there was a large oak hair brush and an 18” cane with a sturdy handle.  He was puzzled but said, “Why thank you ladies the hair brush is larger than I’m use to but I will use it every day, and thanks for the pointer it will help while I’m making presentations at work.”
The three ladies simultaneously started laughing hysterically.  After regaining her composure, Ms. Bennett stood up went over to Greg, and put her hand lightly below his chin, stared into his eyes and said, “Greg that is not a pointer, it’s a cane and both hair brush and cane are going to be used tonight for your Birthday Spanking.”
With that Marybeth Bennett pulled one of the chairs away from the table, sat down and said, “it’s time now Greg come over to my side.”
Greg couldn’t believe his ears, “a spanking”, he had never been spanked in his life.  His parents didn’t believe in spanking and it had been outlawed in his school for ten years before he started.  His heart sank into his stomach, all the joy of the evening quickly dissipated along with any romantic thoughts he had about Barbara.  What is she going to think about me, after watching me have the first spanking of my life? he thought.  He went over to Ms. Bennett’s side, quickly got his head straight and started to plead, “please Ms. Bennett don’t spank me, I promised I’ll be good, and I’ve been great these past four days.”
Ms. Bennett quickly responded, “Greg, four days is hardly a career.  This spanking is for three reasons, first it is your birthday and all boys should get a Birthday spanking on their Birthday, good or bad.  Second, I’m combining your Birthday spanking with a punishment spanking for all the trouble you have caused me and the company these past five years and especially these past two months.  And third, this is to show Ms. Kramer that I’m not going to put up with anymore of your nonsense and the days of my coddling you are over.”  With that she reached for Greg’s belt to undo his pants.  Greg instinctively but is hands on hers in a vain attempt to restrain her.  With that Ms. Bennett gave him and icy glare and he quickly put his hands back at his sides.  With a very quick motion, Ms. Bennett unfastened Greg’s belt and slacks and quickly dropped his pants to below his knees.  His underwear quickly followed and Greg was standing naked from the waist down for all three ladies to see.  Although mortified, he couldn’t believe that some how he was also aroused.  Please let me stay under control for a little longer, he wished.  He stood there for what seemed to be good five minutes while Ms. Bennett gave a performance review summary for Ms. Kramer, finally she ended with, “OK Greg, now lay across my lap.”
Greg practically dove across Ms. Bennett’s lap, he was strangely comfortable as Ms. Bennett situated his member between her ample thighs.  Ms. Bennett stated, “Greg first a warm up, that’s thirty with my hand.”  One, (not too bad), two (other cheek), three in the middle, Ms. Bennett methodically covered Greg’s entire bottom with slaps alternating between cheeks and the center of his crack, seventeen, eighteen,  Greg squirmed a little and let out small gasps but  took it pretty well, twenty-nine, thirty.  “OK, Greg let’s really get started now, what do you say.”
Greg thought for a second and then answered as he thought she wished, “Please Ms. Bennett, please spank me.  I’m sorry I’ve been so bad.”
“Not bad for a rookie Greg, now let’s begin.”  One, nothing prepared Greg for what he felt from the first blow of the Oak Hair brush.  He gasped and choked a bit from a quick breath, two, Ms. Bennett spanked with the Hair Brush with the same methodical cadence as with her hand, except each blow got harder,  By ten, Greg’s arousal was a distant memory and he couldn’t help himself but to beg, “please stop Ms. Kramer, I promise I’ll be good.”  She ignored his pleas and by twenty, Greg began to cry, and kick.  
“Greg, control yourself, or you will be here the rest of the night.”  Greg quickly stopped kicking, but continued to cry until, “thirty”, he was a blubbery mess.  Ms. Kramer stopped the spanking and started messaging his back side with her hand.  “That’s a good boy Greg, almost finished.”  She allowed Greg to completely regain his self control and Ms. Bennett picked up the cane.
“Here goes Greg”, Greg slightly tightened his back side. One, right across the center of both cheeks.  If Greg was unprepared for the hairbrush nothing compared to the cane, he started to cry immediately.  Two, just a quarter of an inch above the first.  Ms. Kramer’s style was a different with the cane, she made parallel hits across his hind quarters that by twenty had covered his complete back side from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack.  Greg, by this point had completely resolved there was nothing to do but to surrender, he did so with minimum pleas but continued to cry like a thoroughly spanked little boy throughout, Twenty-nine, thirty, the last crack was centered on the first.   He just layed there when Ms. Kramer began her light massage.  “All done, you’ve passed your first birthday and punishment spanking, and if I were grading you I’d give you a solid B”.  
“Ms. Bennet, Greg may have only a B, but I’d give you an A plus.”  Greg heard Barbara state..  Then Ms. Kramer added, “I’m convinced too, I think you have started Greg on the path of being the kind of employee I thought he would be when I first hired him”.  Greg had completely forgotten the two ladies witnessing his chastisement and a sense of shame returned.  After a few minutes Ms. Bennett stopped.  “OK Greg, get up and remove your shoes, pants and under ware and go stand in the corner, I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”  Greg slowly got up and did as he was told.  By that time he had lost any semblance of modesty.  When he started to the corner, Ms. Bennett interrupted, “Greg, what do you say?”
Greg turned to face her looked down at the floor and said, “Thank you Ms. Bennett for my Birthday spanking and for everything.”
“Well Greg, at least this evening has made you a quicker study.  Now to the corner for thirty minutes, one for each year.  I don’t want to see your nose more than two inches from the corner and don’t even think about touching that bottom of yours or it will be back over my lap for round two,” Ms. Bennett replied.
While in the corner Greg could hear the ladies talking shop.  It was if he wasn’t even in the room, it had the tone of just a routine meeting at work.  Then he heard the door open, and their waitress came into the room, “do you ladies need anything more”.  “Just some coffee, Ms. Kramer answered.”  As the waitress poured she said, “well I see some young man had a memorable Birthday.”  “Yes, I think he has”, Ms. Kramer answered as all four ladies had a chuckle over Greg’s display.  
The thirty minutes felt like two hours, but finally Greg heard the words he was waiting for.  “Greg you can come out now”, Ms. Kramer said.  Greg felt a twinge of relief for his ordeal was finally over.  That feeling was short lived, he turned and saw Ms. Kramer in the spanking chair with the other two women at each side.  Barbara was holding the Hair Brush and Ms. Bennett the cane.  By this time Greg has completely submitted and he knew what this meant.  He slowly walked over to Ms. Kramer’s side.
As soon as he got there, all Ms. Kramer had to do was point to her lap, and Greg crawled over it like a submissive little boy.  Ms. Kramer locked Greg into place with her left arm, Greg felt he was in a vice and then Diane Kramer also started with her hand, one, as soon as the first one landed Greg knew that this would be no ordinary spanking.  He did not think that anyone could possibly spank harder than Ms. Bennett, but the first spank felt worse than the hair brush did on his well spanked bottom.  Ms. Kramer had a different spanking style than Ms. Bennett, the first used alternating blows and Greg knew where the next one was going to land, Ms. Kramer’s blows were completely arbitrary and could have several in a row in exactly the same spot.  By 10 smacks, Greg was again sniffling and at 20 he was crying hysterically, but he dare not kick, he was able to just squirm very little from the tightness of her grip, finally 30 and the first part of this Birthday Spanking was over.
Ms. Kramer was completely focused on her task, as soon as she was done, with Greg crying over her lap, she turned to Barbara and said, “hair brush please”.  Barbara handed Ms. Kramer the hairbrush and she started up again.  One was on the upper part of Greg’s right thigh, he thought that it felt like a hot frying pan, two, three, four landed in all different regions, Ms. Kramer used the same spanking style with the hair brush as she did with her hand.  By this time Greg was in complete surrender all he could do is cry and wait to the end.  Thirty finally came and Greg had no time to recover before he heard Ms. Kramer say, “Cane please.”
A few seconds later the cane came down on the center of his hindquarters, one.  It felt like a hundred bee stings and Greg was sure that his backside must have been a bloody mess.  In actuality his bottom was a deep shade of crimson from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack with splotches of purple throughout.  Two, three, four, all in different places, in different angles and patterns, with no way for Greg to prepare.  He was in a trance and lost count of the strokes and did not even know when 30 came.  He continued to sob over Ms. Kramer’s lap for at least 30 seconds before he realized the spanking was finally finished.  Ms. Kramer kept Greg over her knee for another minute but did nothing to relieve is throbbing backside until Greg’s sobs turned to blubbering and finally deep breaths.  “You can get up now Greg,” she said.
As soon as Greg got up, He looked at Ms. Kramer and told her, “Thaaaank you Mssss. Kramerer for my spanannking and giving me ananother chance,” he stammered.
Ms. Kramer got up from her chair, she seemed to tower over Greg and put one hand under his chin and softly said, “It’s all over Greg, you have a clean slate.  I’m going to inform HR on Monday to purge your employment file of all infractions.  When Barbara came to Ms. Bennett and myself to plead your case and to have this intervention, we knew there was no way you could keep your position and we could keep a potentially valuable company asset with the rules we had in place.  You are reborn tonight, just like the day you came into this world.  By the way I’m transferring you to a new section starting Monday, although we condone office relationships, you cannot have your new girl friend as your supervisor.  Barbara promised to keep you on the straight and narrow at home and Ms. Bennett and myself will keep you that way at work.  There will be no more talks in Ms. Bennett’s office, only spankings for now on for future infractions and then to my office for the same.  It won’t be patty cake spankings like the ones you just received but real punishment.  We each have a hair brush and cane in our desk drawers to match your Birthday present along with a four inch wide leather strap and 16” paddle.  We’re going to leave you now with Barbara.”  With that Ms. Kramer gave Greg a long hug and then kissed him on the cheek.
Ms. Bennett, then came over to Greg and gave him a hug and kissed him on his forehead, then turned and said, “you’re in very capable hands with Barbara, don’t blow it, I still have high hopes for you.”  With that both ladies left the room.
Barbara Fuller came over to Greg, and took his hand and led him to the couch.  She sat down, and had Greg sit on her lap.  Still naked from the waist down Greg buried his face on Barbara’s shoulder and started to weep.  “How can you want to be my girl friend after all I’ve done and what you just saw?” he asked.  
“Greg I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I came to work for Kramer Internet.  You were just so lost you could never see it.  As far as tonight, I’ve never been prouder of you, I know that we can make it together.  We’re going stop by your house to pick up your things, your parents are waiting and are thrilled you’re moving on with your life and in with me.  Bring your presents we will need them at our house.  I have only two rules at home, one, you are to do things my way, and two, when in doubt refer to rule one.”
They both lightly chuckled.  Greg had a mix of emotion he never experienced, partly well spanked little boy, completely forgiven, and the other new boy friend to the hottest girl on the planet.  He could feel his member slightly stiffen.  Barb sensed what was going on and gave his member a light slap, “there will be none of that for some time, not until you earned it.  Come on, get dressed and get your things we have a lot to do tonight.  We have to pack your clothes, move in and then I’ll be giving you your final Birthday Spanking of the evening at home.  Then I can nurse you back to tip top shape by Monday.”
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Photo: The VBB…three weeks later

It seems as though the VBB’s indestructible bottom was finally given a run for it’s money.
This photo, sent along by him and his Wonderful Wife, shows remnants of cane tip strikes, and a few dark abrasions…three weeks after our last meeting. (I also detect some much more recent reddening, no doubt the result of the WW’s well-practiced swing.)



We’ll be getting together again very soon. Lucky for him, he’s no longer in trouble. 

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

F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry

This entry from another great friend and fellow spanking enthusiast (a non-contestant in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ contest   due to our friendship) is well-penned and really quite funny.  Thanks again to my wonderful buddies who take the time and imagination to enter their works – you’re the best.
Enjoy!


– Dana

*****






Out and about at the electronic store that I oh so loved. The newest iPhone had just been released and I was determined to get it no matter I had to do to get it.
I had tried desperately every which way to get the money together to purchase the phone. I begged, tried to borrow even barter. All to no avail. Hours went by, then days, then weeks. My sister and her husband had just gotten the same phone. MY sister who knew absolutely nothing about technology. MY sister who didn’t understand the importance of the A5 processor, or the built in 8mega-pixel camera. MY sister who only got the damn thing cause it came in white! I was outraged, disgusted, and just down right fed up!
It was my day off from work. I counted my money as I did just several hours earlier before bed, hoping that some how the my cash flow had increased while I slept. Adding the disappointment was the dream I had in which I had miracluously found more money waiting for me when I recounted. In reality I was still close to fifty dollars short. With my hopes dashed again I decided I would get this phone today no matter what. Nothing was going to stop me. I was going to right this wrong that fate had done to me. The iPhone would be mine today oh yes it would be mine.
I arrived at the store plotting my move. Not only was I about to teach everyone that I always get what I want but I was going to teach this store that not allowing someone to purchase it for me from another state, and having me pick it up, was complete and utter bull***t. I’ll show them to deny me of my technological rights!
I scoped the place out. Cameras were everywhere. I had to be quick, and I may even have to run. The only comforting sight was the one security guard who was so fat he looked like he’d have a heart attack chasing after me faster then I would running from him. I walked to the cell phone isle and there I saw it. Locked behind a gate. This just became more trickier then I had planned. I took my book bag off my back and opened it fumbling around in it like I was looking for something. Looked around again. I debated if this would work. I considered abandoning the mission. Then I thought about all the injustices that had been done to me. My sister, the technological ***, the store not allowing an online purchase and in-store pickup, no no no, failure was not an option. Kneeling down still fumbling I reached pulled the gate that was being held together by a chain. I reached in and grabbed an iPhone box. I let it go so as not to draw suspicion.
I glanced around and realized no one had seen this. I was amazed. I reached in again and pulled out the box and placed it in my bag. I reached in again and looked up noticing a woman looking at me. I pulled my arm out making it seem as if I was just shuffling the products behind the cage around. Slick on my part I thought. No one in the store had seen me. If they did and I ran they couldn’t pursue me this much I knew from my retail days.
I continued about the store. I looked as if I was browsing other items. I would ocassionally reach in my bag and pull out the sales flyer looking as if I was browsing for a good sale. What I was secretly doing was using the knife in my bag to cut off the alarm attached to the box. I reached in again after the alarm wire snapped and quietly tore apart the box. I reached inside again when suddenly someone came up from behind me.
Damnit! It was the oversized guard. He asked me to come with him. I followed as he took me upstairs. He didn’t say anything to me suddenly to my amazement I saw my arm behind the cage shuffling the boxes. The camera must have been rotating and actually missed me jacking the iPhone.
“Can I leave now?” I asked the guard.
“Sir can you open your bag.”
“Absolutely not, I know my rights and you can’t force me to open my bag. So if you don’t mind I’ll be going now.” I attempted to walk out with my head down and walked right into the big man’s gut.
“Sir, if you don’t open your bag I’m going to have to call the cops. They can and will force you to open that bag.”
I made an attempt to try to run passed the big man but got caught between his stomach and the doorway. The man didn’t even budge. I was beginning to panic. My retail experience had taught me cops really could force me to open the bag, in which case I’d be screwed. I’d end up with no iPhone and a rap sheet. I began to think, maybe a little too quickly because the room was starting to spin. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. The big man opened it and was surprised to see a tall woman with dark jet black short hair standing in front of him.
“Excuse me sir, may I have a word with you.”
The man stepped outside. I figured one of two things was about to happen. This woman was going to rat me out or save my a**. The door reopened and to my surprise the woman walked in and asked me to have a seat.
“It appears we have a problem young man.” she said.
“The only problem I have is my civil rights are being violated! LET ME OUTTA HERE!” I began screaming loudly.
“Young man you better quit your bi***in. The problem we have is that I was really looking forward to buying that iPhone I saw you steal.” she said.
“You didn’t see s**t.” I angerily replied.
“Now is that any way to speak to a lady? Would you like me to help keep you out of jail or not?”
I looked at her not really believing what I had just heard.
“You give me the iPhone that’s in your bag and I will teach you not to steal. You see it’s my birthday and I’m not looking to be here all day so just hand it over and we’ll be on our way.”
“Happy birthday miss…” she cut in to announce her name.
“Dana Kane.”
“Ms. Kane but absolutely not. I’ve earned this iPhone.”
“Ok then I’ll just go tell Biggie Smalls out there to just a head and call the police.”
Suddenly panic struck again, perhaps this was a sign. Maybe this woman was meant to be in the store today to keep me from going to jail.
“Fine, give me the lesson and I will give up the phone.”
She flashed a devilish smile.
“Now we’re talkin. Come over here.”
I walked over to her as she tapped her lap. I was caught by surprise.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget now come across my lap.” she said.
“What exactly are you going to do?” I asked dumbly kind of already knowing the answer.
“I’m going to spank you. Naughty boys who like to steal need a firm hand to show them the errors of their ways.”
I couldn’t believe what she had just said. I hadn’t been spanked since I was a little boy. Here was this complete stranger who was offering to spank me to keep me out of jail, and she wanted the phone I so desperately wanted. This was all wrong.
“I’m not going to ask you again young man.” she said sternly.
Surely this had to be some sort of joke. If it was everyone involved was doing a good job at concealing it.
I finally and hesitently laid across her lap. I felt her hands sliding my pants down and quickly shot back up.
“Uh, what the heck do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
She sighed with frustration.
“Well I’m not really going to get my point across by spanking you with your pants up. Now come on I haven’t got all day, I’m going to miss my birthday cake.”
I again hesitently laid across her lap. She pulled my pants down and began running her hands over my exposed cheeks. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. The feel of her hands was some what comforting and soothing, right before her hand slammed into my left butt cheek. A sudden sting came across my butt. I could feel the heat resonating from the spot she had just assaulted. I couldn’t believe I was allowing this to happen all for a stupid phone. I kept my left hand gripped tightly on my shirt. The slaps came faster and harder and more steady.
I heard the security guard talking outside the door. I also heard another female voice. This voice I recognized.
“Just tell me where my friend is!” She screamed.
“I’ll show you.” The guard replied.
How mortifying, here I was being spanked by this complete stranger and now my good friend Angel Smith was watching it all unfold.
“Young lady please close the door behind you.” Dana said without missing one slap.
Angel looked horrified.
Suddenly the man spoke again “We think she was an accomplice to his theft.”
“WHAT!?! NO!”
“I’m not goingto have to ask you again to close that door am I?” Dana replied.
The guard closed the door leaving Angel and I alone with this woman. My ass was now on fire and I wasn’t sure when she was going to stop. Just as I thought that she did.
“What’s your name young lady?” Dana asked.
“Uh..Angel…Angel Smith.”
“Well Angel Smith don’t just stand there drop those drawers and get on your hands and knees.”
“For what?!?” Angel asked in protest.
“Well hell, if he’s gettin a spankin for stealin, and you’re helpin him that makes you guilty by association.”
“WHAT!!” Angel yelled.
“Kevin, what the hell did you get us into!” Angel screamed at me.
“This was your idea I just followed your plan.” which was a blatant lie, I really just needed Angel for the ride.
“Thats bullshit! Whoever you are…he’s lying I was just driving him here.”
At this point I was on my hand and knees only because it really hurt to sit down. If I was going down Angel was coming with me.
“Oh yeah, you didn’t want that iPod charger?” I blurted out. Angel’s face turned beat red. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear that I had just ratted her out or that I had gotten her in trouble, AGAIN. It wasn’t the first time Angel and I had gotten into hot water, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The two of us together knew how to make life hell for those around us.
“You sonofa!” Angel yelled before being interupted.
“Both of you quit your whinin. Angel get on your hands and knees or I will walk out of here and let the cops deal with you both. I have a birthday cake waiting for me, and an iPhone.”
Angel got down really slow. She shot me a look that would have killed me if looks could kill. Dana began to lower Angel’s pants slowly. I watched as Angel closed her eyes in a moment of pleasure. I watch intently what was coming next. Sudden the sound of a loud slap echoed throughout the room. Angel took a deep breath in but appeared to have a hard time letting it out. I chuckled which drew the attention back to me.
There we were side by side with our pants down, and this woman who we’ve never met in between us spanking our asses in unison. I gripped my left shirt arm tightly almost to ease the pain. Angel’s screams were getting louder as her a** was turning all different shades of red. I could tell she was having a hard time taking this, much harder then I was. So I decided to speak up.
“Let us leave first and you can have the phone I promise.” I said.
“Oh sweetness, I’m going to have that phone now you hush and take your punishment. You two are bad news. I had to take time out of my birthday to come and discipline you little brats. I should be home eating cake right now but instead I’m workin up a sweat tearin up your hides.”
“Look, Ms. Kane, I’m sorry just lets us go and I promise we’ll never do this again.” the pain was starting to become overwhelming for me too.
“I didn’t do anything!!!” Angel protested.
Our words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Dana just ignored us and continued. Finally she stopped. I heard Angel catching her breath. I was also trying to regain the composure I lost.
“Stand up both of you.” we quickly jumped to our feet. Angel went to pull up her pants, I was rubbing my butt with my hands however the touch was so hot and painful I really couldn’t.
“Turn and look at each other.” we did and were both shocked at how red our backsides were.
“You never know when there might be someone like me in stores. I suggest its in your best interest to behave from now on and keep your grubby little hands off of items you didn’t pay for.” she said.
“You’re both dismissed.” Angel and I picked up our drawers and I went to reach for my bag.
“That stays with me young man!” I put my head down and followed Angel who had already headed for the door.
Dana exited the room and called the security guard back in. As Angel and I emerged from the store we were both still in shock.
“I can’t friggin believe you blamed me for this!” She said.
“Oh be quiet will ya!” I reached in my right pocket and pulled out a small package and tossed it to her.
“Oh my! You got the charger!” her face lit up like a kid on christmas. It had been sometime since poor Angel had been able to use her iPod. I reached in my left pocket and pulled out a square piece of plastic. I tossed it to Angel who’s face lit up even more. She ran over and hugged me tightly. It was the brand new Lady Gaga album. Seeing Angel happy like that made it all worth it.
The security guard and Ms. Dana opened the bag and pulled out the box. They went through the contents. Their eyes lit up looking fierce.
“Why that little sonofa!” Dana yelled.
As Angel and I walked to the car I noticed she looked a bit sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She lifted her head and looked really unhappy.
“I’m glad you or I didn’t go to jail and all, but I feel bad that you went through all that and came out with nothing. I know how bad you wanted that phone.”
Back in the security room Dana, and the security guard were stunned as they stared into the iPhone box that held the iPod earphone, an iPod charger cable and surprisingly a Blackberry Curve.
As we drove off I unclenched my left hand and slid a brand spanking new iPhone out of my long sleeve.
“It wasn’t a total loss, I have iPod cables at home. Like I always say Angel…I always get what I want!”
THE END
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

A Few Words (and a photo!) from the Contest Winner

Readers,


This week, I delivered the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest winner his Prize…


After contacting Tim to tell him of his victory, I found that he was so happy to have won the writing contest that he shared the ‘good news’ with his lovely wife, Zoe. I promptly invited him to ask Zoe along for our playtime, and to my great good fortune she accepted.


Zoe and I had a fantastic time teaming up on Tim, and he was an amazingly good sport about the whole thing (imagine that).


They’ve been kind enough to send along a photo to share here, a few hours post-spanking. Not only can Tim take a hard spanking, but he has a surprisingly resilient bottom! (Below the photo, a few words from Tim on our fun afternoon.)


– Dana

*****

Hi Dana
 
Just wanted to say thank you again for a wonderful session yesterday. We were both delighted with how easy-going fun and friendly you were, and it felt like a very safe introduction into the wider world of spanking.  I can’t imagine a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than being whupped by two beautiful women.
 
Zoe was particularly delighted at how well she was able to take aim when my butt was perfectly positioned on the spanking bench. She confessed afterwards that she was slightly worried about how hard my punishment was. When I pointed out that she hadn’t seemed to let that affect how hard she swung that heavy paddle on the sixth swat she just smiled and said, “of course not.”
 
Please find attached a photo we took when we got home. This was taken a good 5 hours after the event, and as you can see my butt has recovered somewhat. You can still see excellent evidence of the loopy cane and the ‘grill’ marks from your hairbrush.
 
Very best
Tim





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

Original F/M Spanking Stories: ‘Twin Cheeks’

Here is an exceptional entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, written by one of my favorite new playmates. I gave him his first spanking…and will soon deliver another. 


A true spanko, he’s even started his own blog, with an interesting perspective on the spanking lifestyle. Visit his new blogsite at: Secret Spanko.

– Dana

*****


‘Twin Cheeks’

This story took place a few years ago. It was the perfect storm of events that led to a night I’ll never forget. Although it’s led to a great deal of fantasies, it’s probably for the best that it hasn’t been repeated. 

My wife and I are spankos, I guess.  Mostly it’s foreplay that turns us on- something we discovered about each other in college.  But on occasion we’ve spanked each other “for real.”  Yes, I said each other. We’re both switches, I suppose. I’d say typically about 70/30 it’s me giving and her getting just because that seems like the more natural fit to our personalities and sexual identities. Actually it sort of fit the opposite of our personalities.  She was uptight and in control most of the time, and needed to let go and feel like someone else was completely in charge more than I did.  That was not to be the case on this night, though, which was anything but typical…

It was a Sunday night and I’d just helped brush teeth, read the same story for the fiftieth time, and tucked our two little kids into bed. My phone buzzed and it was Lauren (my wife) sending me a text. 

“Get ur suit on n get ur butt out here S wants 2 play if n bring another bottle!”

So I stripped and got my swimsuit on, stopped by the kitchen to grab another bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge. We had a bunch left from the party we had the night before. It was a birthday party for Stacy (the aforementioned “S”) who lived down the street and was my wife’s best friend.  Stacy and I actually share the same birthday, year and all, and it wasn’t really our birthday until Monday. But I wasn’t nearly as keen on celebrating mine, I guess.  Grabbed a couple of beers for me and headed out to the hot tub where my wife was enjoying the night with her friend.

Stacy is pretty much the polar opposite of my wife in every way. Lauren’s petite, brunette, and kinda curvy; Stacy’s thicker, blonde, tall, and very curvy. Lauren’s quiet, almost shy, and sharp as a tack; Stacy’s loud, outgoing, and well… Not so sharp sometimes. Lauren is for the most part straight-laced and proper, while Stacy might be described as earthy. My wife had sophisticated refined tastes, and had grown up in privilege; Stacy had grown up in a small town, and my wife said sometimes that showed.  But they had been best friends for awhile, and they complimented each other almost as well as Lauren and I did. In fact, Stacy and I had a lot in common. One could replace me with her in each of these comparisons and they still be accurate. (Well, except for maybe the “really curvey” part).  That combined with our shared birthday led to the running joke that Stacy and I were long lost twin siblings. And of all her friends I probably got along with Stacy the best, though I didn’t always care for doing things with them because Stacy’s husband Ted was so dull.  On the other hand, Ted was at home tonight, and Stacy was a big flirt, which I secretly kind of enjoyed. So I didn’t mind interrupting their girls night to join them, especially since I’d been invited er, uhm… commanded to do so.


(Make sure to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.)


I brought out the drinks and joined them in the hot tub. Most of the lights were off and it was a gorgeous early fall night. Greetings and a beer later, Stacy was back to these “IF” books she’s gotten the night before…

“Okay next question for you Dusty… ‘If you could live in any other historical era, which would you choose?'”

“Uhm… how about the 1880’s in the wild west. Driving cattle across the country and stopping in the little towns where the saloons had whorehouses upstairs!”

“Why did they call ’em saloons instead of just bars?” Stacy wondered aloud. 

“Dusty! Can you just try not to make everything dirty? For once?!”

“Ha. Did you catch that honey? Dusty and dirt-“

“-You’re gonna catch it tomorrow night. Just keep it up. I’ll remember, tough guy.” She wasn’t really mad, but I knew she’d remember it.

“Y’all are so cute,” Stacy chimed in, “Are ya gonna spank him?”

Lauren looked at me. 
“Well…Answer her.” I said. 

“Yes, he’ll get a spanking tomorrow night.” 

“For that though? I mean, he just answered a question.”

“Stacy, tomorrow is my birthday, remember? I’ll get a birthday spanking. Actually probably a birthday paddling. Would you like to join us? It would seem appropriate.” I said with a smirk.

“Oh NO!  No no don’t think so… I’ll let you play your kinky games but keep me out of it. No thanks!”

A little background here… Somehow late one girl talk night Stacy found out about our spanking “kinky games” and was clearly fascinated by them.  She brought it up… a lot. Of course, over the years I also heard probably way too much about her sex life, and her poops, and even her periods- and that was me!  Can’t imagine what all my wife knew about her. Like I said, she was a little “earthy.”  So maybe it was just natural curiosity that was voiced a bit more often than most in that situation, but I suspected she was really just a little TOO curious about it, and didn’t mind telling her about our spanking play, so long as she kept it to herself. 

“So even though I’ll get it regardless, I kind of like to give her some motivation. But sorry honey, I didn’t mean to give a dirty answer. I take it back. No cowboys. I’d be a pirate… searching for booty!”

This earned me a chuckle from Stacy and a splashy pinch from Lauren. 

So it continued… back to the IF questions.  We sort of rotated around the hot tub so that whoever was reading the question could see to read it from the one light.  This was interspersed with gossip about the neighbors, people that came over last night, etc… a few more drinks, until Stacy reached for the other IF book.

“Alright y’all… this is the IF book about love.  Let’s spice things up a bit.” She flipped it open, “Great one to start off with, for you Dusty. ‘If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, which celebrity you choose?'”

“That’s a stupid question. Pass.  None of the above.”

“Nope.  Not good enough.  Gotta name somebody and give a reason why.”

“I don’t even know many celebrities. Alright, hold on… Got it,  Tom Cruise.  He’d know what he’s doing, plus he’s small so it wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Ewww!” but Stacy was laughing.

“Sick! You put way too much thought into that.  That’s some more extra. Honey?! So wrong!”

“Better watch it, Dusty!”

“Lemme see that!” I grabbed the book away from Stacy and peered close so I could read it in the dim light. “Alright my twin sister, payback’s fun.  This one’s for you.  ‘Follow up…If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, who from among your friends and acquaintances would you choose?'”

She answered immediately. 

“You know that new couple at the end of the block that just moved in? What’s her name? Deanne or something? And her boyfriend I think his name is Val, maybe?  Met them once… Seem friendly. They both have the same black hair- kinda long for him, kinda short on her. But no way you couldn’t tell ’em apart.. Something almost scary about him, like he could be a villian in a movie or something. But she’s got a body on her though. Saw her picking up the paper in just a t-shirt the other morning when I was out jogging. I don’t know… Something kinda alternative, kinda dangerous, but naughty about her. Definitely sexy. She smiled big and waived at me that morning.  So her… That’s my answer. Whew!”

Lauren and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. More thought went into that answer than my Tom Cruise response.  Stacy took a couple of deep breaths and had another big sip of wine. A little awkward pause…

“So Stacy… ever experiment in college?”

“Dusty! Thin ice, bud…” My wife warned me. 

“Ha! That’s alright Lauren. But I’m not going to answer, my nosey twin brother. We’re not playing truth or dare, and I wouldn’t want to spoil your fantasies!” She said with a wink, before grabbing the book from me. 

“Oh Laaauren… ‘If you could trade body parts with any of your friends and acquaintances, what would you choose?'”

“Your breasts. Dusty’s been staring at them all night.”

“I’d trade you too. If you only saw them without my swimsuit holding them up… And the backaches, and the shoulder strap indentations…”

I decided it was best to just remain silent since my wife was correct. Lauren grabbed the book back.  We weren’t strictly keeping any order. 

“Alright, Stacy…’Follow up… If you had to live with the body of one of your friends and acquaintances, who would you choose?'”

Stacy paused, took another big sip, then paused another bit before answering. Or, sort of answering. 

“Let’s play a different game. It’s called the honesty game. Dusty you were right I did experiment once in college. My sorority big sis during Hell Week. Pledges had to live with our big sisses and it got pretty intense. Never happened again though, and the next year when it was my turn my little sis didn’t respond to my clumsy post-paddling advances like I had the year before I guess.”

“Thanks for sharing, but I was half kidding and didn’t mean to pry… Sorry about that, just trying to give you a hard time.”

“No need to apologize, Dusty. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Guess my chest’s gotten plenty of attention tonight, huh?” She giggled and kind of squeezed her chest with her arms, making it (them) even more pronounced before continuing. “And I thought y’all should know that because it helps to understand my answer.”

“Don’t worry about. No need to defend yourself. Heck I’ve never experimented like that but if I had to switch bodies I’d choose  a woman’s body too. Prettier, and I know how they work too.” My wife chimed in. 

“Wait did you say you were paddled?” I added. 

“Well, no, and yes. [Big gulp finishing glass] I’d choose to be in Dusty’s body. The birthday paddling from you thing. But wouldn’t play with it or anything, don’t get any ideas there, bud.”

We let her words, and their implications sit in the air a moment.

“So you DO want a birthday spanking?!” I said with a grin. 

“Honey you’re such a dolt sometimes. Yes, and wants me to give it to her because that would take her back to that moment with her big sis in college.  Stacy, I’m more than happy to help, if that’s what you really want, but I don’t plan on “experimenting” afterwards.”

“Got it. And agree. That might make this even more awkward!  I want to, but let’s do this before I chicken out.”

“Well, it is almost midnight… But I don’t want this to be something you do without intentionally doing so with your eyes wide open and not fueled by too much wine. You know that’s a pretty severe spanking, you’re asking for, right? I know how old you are.”

“Yes, I know. If I’m being all honest here and whatever…I’ve been fascinated anytime y’all talk about your spanking games. It makes me tingle and get all nervous inside.”

I knew it!  Love it when I’m right. But on the outside I said “Wow, had no idea or I would have talked about it even more!”

“Stacy I want to make sure here… You know it’s going to hurt, a lot… And when I think of birthday spankings I think of the person getting them in their birthday suit. That’s how we’ve done them, for several years now.”

“Remember, what brought this all on is that I have been paddled- thanks for your concern, but I get it. And as far as being naked goes, I’m not all that crazy about it but I know that’s part of it too. I’ll let you answer that one question again after you see these girls floppin’ all around!” 

“I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through,” said my ever sensible wife, “what about when Ted sees your red rear end?”

“Please… We did it last night after the party so I’m good for at least a week, and can’t remember last time we had the lights on, for that matter. Tomorrow’s Monday, and he’ll be up and gone before I’m in the shower. We’re cool.”

Lauren looked at me in an attempt to share a “look” but I wasn’t sure what it meant. Oh well, I guess she did… so I sort of nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.  Dusty will go first, and then you can decide if you still want to go through with it. How’s that sound?”

“Deal”

“Go pick out a paddle, and bring us some towels, sweetie. Oh and another bottle for afterward”

I got up out of the hot tub and headed for the “pool room” as we called it. It was a tiny half bath with a door to the backyard and a big closet for pool stuff. Looked in there and there were only two towels. Dangit. The kids were asleep, the girls wouldn’t be in, so I shucked my wet swimsuit and laid it on the counter before venturing into the house so I wouldn’t drip water all over the place.  It was only then that I realized that her “look” had probably been to make sure I was okay with this.  Of course I was, but I smiled thinking about how I just nodded.

First to the utility room to get extra towels, then to the back of our closet to get a paddle. We had several accumulated over the years, and hid them in a cabinet back behind our winter coats. I started to get excited looking at the implements and thought about what was to come. Pavlovian, I guess. On the one hand, it wouldn’t be done in our bedroom and I might have to wait for the sex to follow, but on the other hand, the thought of Stacy would more than make up for it. Now which one to pick? 

It struck me all of a sudden- perfect! Closed the cabinet in the closet  and went to dig around in the boxes in the other closet under the stairs where we kept old stuff that we didn’t use but couldn’t make ourselves get rid of… Where was it?! This was taking too long.  There it is! Finally!

It was Lauren’s old Kappa paddle. Never used on her back then, it was painted brightly with little cartoon angels and arrows and greek letters. But it would still work I thought, tapping it against my thigh.  Perfect for tonight!

Made my way to the kitchen and picked up another bottle. I had the towels under one arm, and the wine and paddle in my other hand. 

That’s funny, didn’t remember shutting the door… Put the bottle under my other arm (Brrrr!) and turned the knob… WHOOAAHH!

Okay so maybe if I were thinking or a perfect gentleman, I would have quickly backed out and shut the door. But I didn’t. 

Stacy was standing up from apparently just having used the toilet, and her one piece swimsuit was around her knees. 

“Well hello there!”

“Oh so sorry!” I said finally coming to my senses and backing out.  

“No need now. Help yourself to a good look- ha! I am!”

Arms full, I tried to cover myself with the paddle. 

“I do like a man with long hard wood hanging down between his legs!”

We both chuckled and I set the paddle down with a clatter and finally took the wine bottle out from my armpit. Her wet swimsuit was loud as she struggled a bit to pull it back up. 

“Besides, I bet we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other here pretty quick!”

Dressed now, she flushed, and picked my shorts and handed them to me. 

“Take your time!” She said with a grin, and picked up the paddle. “Nice.”

“Sorry, Lauren hates it when anyone drips water through the den coming in from the pool. Just thought it was easier like this. Uhm, why don’t you go on. Give me a chance to uh, compose myself,” I said, looking down to acknowledge my uh, state. “And let’s not mention this if you don’t mind, I think we’ll get plenty of heat as it is and don’t think Lauren needs TOO much extra motivation.”

“Okay got it. Lips are sealed. See you in a minute.”

She left, and I put the cold wet swimsuit back on. It certainly helped me “compose myself” before heading back into the night. 

“What took you so long?”

Did I trust Stacy not to tell? “Took me awhile to find this, but I thought it was plenty appropriate.”

“Awww how thoughtful. Haven’t seen this in awhile.   I’d almost forgotten about it. Why haven’t we used it before?”

“Lemme see… Wow, this is just about the same as I remember her using”  
Well, Stacy was playing her part. So far so good. 

“Alright sweetie… You know birthday spankings are in your birthday suit. Come here.”

I went over and she untied the draw strings and pulled my shorts off again.         
“I need to be able to see what I’m doing, and I’m sure Stacy wouldn’t mind a better view too. Run hit the porch lights and the pool lights for me, will you?”

I should have guessed that was coming. Bless her heart she knows that when I do submit to her spankings, I have a love/hate relationship to the embarrassment almost as much as with the pain. We had a big yard though and backed up to the golf course- surely no one was out there now, right? The lights now on, I strolled back to the hot tub in full view of the two of them, who stared openly. 

“Right over here… Hands on your knees.” She patted my bottom a few times. “You probably don’t know this Stacy but for whatever reason, we’ve discovered that a spanking on a wet bottom hurts a lot more. I was going to give him a warm up with my hand, but would you like to have the honor?”

“Uhm, okay!” She popped right up. 

“Not too hard, but not too soft either just [smack!] like this all [smack] over his little bottom,” She demonstrated. 

“I think I can handle that”

Smack. Smack. 

My wife stood to the side, rubbing my back. “Feet a little further apart dear.  And Stacy, feel free to admire his birthday suit.  I happen to think it’s well made, even the seam here…” She interrupted my warm-up to trace her hand up my leg and my uh, seam. Stacy got a few bum squeezes in before matching Lauren’s actions, and if anything was even more aggressive in checking out the nooks and crannies of my “suit” before beginning to warm my seat up.  

“You know what, let me show you something. You’re standing too close, that’s why it feels a little awkward.  Really for a warm up in this position, I like to wrap my other arm around his waist, like this.  And your other hand goes down here and you can rub his belly, or make sure he’s sticking it out enough, or even tease him just a little.  Most importantly, you can [smack!] get a good swing [smack!] like this too.  Alright, you try.”

Stacy sort of leaned over me and wrapped her arm around me.  First thing I noticed was the difference between my wife’s smooth skin next to me and Stacy in her cool still-damp swimsuit pressed next to me and my wife’s familiar skin in Lauren’s two piece suit.  Maybe surprisingly given the size difference, Stacy didn’t spank as hard as my wife, even if it was just a warm up.  But her other hand… that was far closer to well, me… than any unfamiliar hand had been in over a decade, and it was pretty exciting, even as the sting was building in my bottom.    

“I think he’s plenty ready” my lovely wife said, picking up the paddle, “I think you’ll need to brace yourself a bit more for this. Let’s have you gripping the wall; stick it out a little more… that’s it.  Here we go… count ‘em.”

“Wider stance… And get your back down, I like to see the family jewels dance, and I bet Stacy will too!”

They both chuckled as I complied and then wiggled a little to give them a show. 

The rock wall I gripped was rough and dusty, but still my palms were sweating profusely. I knew this was going to hurt, and not only that but I had an audience. And not only that but an audience I didn’t really want to break down in front of… wait was I trying to impress Stacy? Was that okay or was that wro–

WHACK!

NnNgggrrah…that hurt! The first couple always seemed to hurt the most. 

“Happy Birthday dear!” She said cheerfully. 

GAAAaaaah! Another one. Like a teacher strict the 1st week of school the first few were full force to show- AAAaaaRrrggh! -she meant business, I guess. 

“That was three, sweetie, I need you to count ’em for me.”

POP!

“Four!”

SMACK!

“Uuuunnh… Five”

Less intense now, they still hurt plenty. I wasn’t caring much now about putting on a show.  But I got the -“MMmmuhh- Six!”- impression that she was toning it down just a bit so as not to scare our -OOooww! Dangit! Right-in-the-same-spot!- audience that was about to get hers. The swats continued, gradually increasing in intensity. We hadn’t used that sorority paddle in a long time and it sure packed a wallop. I turned my head around to look at her and confirmed that the mental image of my wife in her bikini holding the paddle was indeed sexy in real life too. Then I saw Stacy with a naughty looking smirk on her face clearly enjoying the show. 

“Aaah… twenty-seven!”

“Turn back around, dear.”

WHACK!

“GGgrrrrr… Twenty-eight”

“That one really hurt, didn’t it?”

“Uhm, yeah, I’d say it really did!”

“Good.  Little harder now, sweetie. Finish strong for me.”

Yes, the last few were plenty strong. Especially the “one-to-grow-on” final swat. My knees buckled briefly, and she set the paddle down to fondle, squeeze, and caress my cheeks. 

“Stace, come here and feel how warm they are.”

Four hands massaging and squeezing my cheeks was nice. Two fingers pointing out and then poking the spots that hurt the worst was not so much fun. I just stayed in position, breathing deeply and trying to recover. 

“Can I give him a couple to grow on too?” Stacy asked my wife. 

“I don’t know- he’s marked up pretty good already.”

“Come on Dusty, you can take a couple more, right? Please? Say yes. Do it for me.” Stacy pleaded in her sexiest voice, leaning in against me and rubbing my back and shoulders for emphasis. 

“Alright.”

Stacy clapped her hands together with glee as my wife handed her the paddle and gave her instructions as to where to hit me.

She put one hand on my back and took a swing. OWWW! Sort of hit the outside of one cheek. The next one was a more solid pop, but not as hard as those from my wife. 

“That’s it honey, you’re done. You can get up and rub. Happy birthday dear.”

We kissed then, but mindful of our audience kept it pretty tame. I jumped around a little bit in my energized post-spanking state. This made Stacy giggle as she saw a certain part of me flop around. 

“Alright you’re up. Still want to go through with this Stace?”

There was a moment of silence as Stacy looked down, hands covering her face and she appeared deep in thought. Her head came halfway up as she looked right at me, and then down a little before turning back to Lauren. 

“Okay let’s do this, but I wanna keep my suit on.”

“Nope. I need to see your bare bottom to judge the swats.” 

“Well look, I can just do this.” Stacy said, turning around and bunching up her swimsuit into her bottom between her cheeks. 

“Stace, come on…”

“Yeah what happened to birthday spankings in our birthday suit my little twin sister?!”

“Problem is there’s nothing little about me. But guess y’all are right. What’s the old saying? In for a penny… about to see a lot of pounds!”  

She slipped the shoulder straps of her suit down. 

“Nonsense Stacy, you look great.” I said trying to be helpful (and very much looking forward to warming her up!)

We were both staring at Stacy as she peeled her swimsuit down to her waist. 

“Y’all are making me blush!” I was pretty sure she wasn’t blushing and despite trying to protest and act modest, in reality she was enjoying putting on a show.  ***** “Not passing any pencil test, that’s for sure! Still want these, Lauren?”  

“I want ’em.” Crap! Why did I let that slip out?! That was supposed to have remained an inner thought!

Lauren looked over at me, then looked down, and didn’t like what she saw, I guess. 

“You look lovely Stace. But you know what, Hon, I think you need to cool off a bit. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool. Maybe swim a couple of laps while I warm her up.” 

“But I-” and then I saw her look and knew exactly what she meant this time. She meant business. So I turned around and stepped into the frigid-feeling water. My “excitement” disappeared instantly. The minute my sore rear end hit the water it did feel kinda good, I guess it was like an ice pack.  I wasn’t happy about missing the show, but probably it was for the best. I really should not be lusting after Stacy like that.   The water wasn’t THAT cold and I eventually got used to it. It felt nice to swim naked and working my sore legs and ass felt good too. Done with a couple of laps, I looked up at my wife spanking Stacy. I really didn’t want to miss the show. 

I saw Stacy bend over further to grab the wall, her warm-up complete.  I decided to get out of the pool just as my wife was picking up the paddle. 

Bbbbrrrr… The night air hit me. And here I thought the water was cold!

Toweling off, I quickly made my way over to them and stood near my Lauren, who was about to begin.   Your turn, little missy…

Stacy was bent over just as I had been, grasping the stone wall. So much for not lusting after my neighbor. *** The tan lines on her round bottom were still visible but less pronounced where the lines were blurred by the pink remnants of her warm-up. 

“Don’t worry about counting these. I’ll keep track. You just try to relax and take them like a big girl.” My wife said, tapping the paddle against Stacy’s rear. 

Pop!

“That was one”

Pop! 

“Two”

She didn’t start off strong like she did with me I noted.  They must have still stung though, because Stacy would clench her cheeks or make cute little sounds after each one.

However, the swats started to gradually increase in intensity. I set the towel down on the table, but then wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. I didn’t exactly have pockets. I watched my sexy wife wield the paddle wearing just a bikini. I watched the jiggling impacts on Stacy’s bottom, seeing it turn red and knowing how much it hurt. Maybe most of all, I heard the adorable little whimpers, sighs, murmers and even growls Stacy was making with each swat… Well,my hands drifted toward a part of me that was again in a decidedly non-shrivelled state. 

Woops. My wife noticed. 

“Know what darling? I think you’re enjoying this show a little too much. Why don’t you got sit your hot butt over there on the wall right next to Stacy. And go ahead and sit on your hands… I’d hate for the rough rock to hurt your bottom- that’s my job!”


“Stacey, how are you doing?” Lauren continued, “We’re about half way there.”

“I’m alright. It hurts. Just keep going- get it over with.”

“Oh no no no… You’ve had this fantasy for years- decades even.  Rather than get it over with, we should instead savor it!” Shesaid with mock sweetness dripping from her voice,   “Dusty’s up there- spread your legs a bit, bottom out and brace yourself.  These will be a little stronger.”

And they were. Numbers 15 through 20 were not quite full arm swings, but were clearly tougher for her to take. Stacy’s head was down and she made louder adorable noises with each whack. 

“Get your back down Stace. Arch your back for me. I know they hurt, but you can’t curve your back like that- I don’t want to hit up high. Tell you what, I want you to get your head up and look up at Dusty. That’ll help keep your butt out right. 
Stacy moved her hair out of the way and looked up at me. Without warning, another blow came to her backside, causing her to wince in pain and making her breasts (now completely visible to me) to dance a little wobbly jig of their own.

“Twenty-one”

Stacey looked back at me, but her gaze drifted down… until she saw that non-shrivelled part and looked back up again at my face, smiling and briefly rolling her eyes before scrunching up her face in pain again.  Yes I was sitting on my hands, but the fact that her pretty face was about two feet from that part of me was certainly not helping as my wife had probably hoped. Nor did the lovely view of her arched back and the tops of her bottom cheeks rising up behind her help much either.

“Bet you didn’t have this view back at your Big Sis’s place.” I couldn’t resist adding.

“Ow OW OWW-Eee!”

“Twenty-five; almost there, Stace”

“Bet you never thought you’d- AAwwgrrhah!”

“Twenty-six”

“-get that thing as close to me again after the bathroom! GgGggrr! Mmmmm! Dangit!”

“Took you two swats to think up a comeback and that’s it?” I said with a smile as my wife announced it was twenty-seven and Stacey stood up to rub her butt. (And simultaneously give me another full view of her body!)

“Not so fast sweetie… You need at least one to grow on.” My wife chimed in, pushing her back down, “And what was that about the bathroom?” 

Whack! 

“Mmmmhhmm… That was a good one to grow on. Thank you ma’am!”

“Back down. Stacey? …I suggest you tell me.”

“Nothing. Don’t worr-AAaaah! Oww!”

“Dusty I know how stubborn Stacy can be. Why don’t you do the chivalrous thing and tell me what’s going on.  I’m not stopping until I find out.” 

Whack!

“Well sweetie you know how you don’t like it when I drip water from wet swimsuits on the carpet?”

Whack!

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Whack!

“I had my swimsuit off when I went in to get the paddle and towels, and Stacey took off her swimsuit to use the bathroom. I had no idea she’d be in there. It was nothing… Really.” I said, genuinely meaning it.

Lauren did not look happy.  In fact, she came over and grabbed a hold of my ear. 

“If it was nothing, why didn’t y’all tell me about it? Join your conspirator. Right there.”

She took awhile getting our butts lined up right next to each other and at the same height. Not gonna lie… I kind of did enjoy our butts touching each other, though I wasn’t going to mention it right then.

“Alright you two… I’m really disappointed in you both.  Here we are playing these [Whack] spanking games and it requires quite a bit of [Whack] trust on the part of us all.”

She interspersed swats to each of us as she spoke, going on about how this had really upset her.    

“Here’s what we’re going to do… twenty-seven more, and I’ll one to each of you, then one on the two cheeks in the middle, then one to the other.”

 And so it went.  These were full force, and we both struggled to take them.  The flaw in her plan was that our middle cheeks got it twice!  Stacy’s adorable little noises were not so little, and both of us cried out in one way or the other at every swat.  Our hands were right next to each other, and at one point Stacey just grabbed a hold of mine.  I realized that this was probably not the greatest of ideas given the reason for our spanking, but in the moment grabbing a hold of each other was what was needed to make it through the ordeal.  She wasn’t bawling, but her eyes were full of tears.  It was so intense we did not even realize immediately that it was over.

“Alright you two… Those are a set of ripe red twin cheeks… I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

I was sent to get the lotion while the two of them talked and made up or did whatever women do after something like that.  I came back and the last bottle of wine was open, but Stacy was still standing as she drank it.  Lauren put lotion on each of us; I sure wasn’t going to volunteer to help!  

Fortunately, it wasn’t awkward. (The wine helped.)  Stacey said that it was definitely more intense than her paddlings in the sorority days, and that once a decade or so was enough.  Hugs all around (after she delicately put her swimsuit on again) and Stacy left out the gate.  Left completely unsaid were my thoughts about what came after the paddlings and her sorority days experimentations.  I guess she could take care of that herself when she got home.  Fortunately for us, we didn’t need to experiment sexually after a spanking.  We knew just what to do.

“Happy Birthday dear.  I’m not mad.  I just don’t want you to try and hide something from me.” She said, with her arms around me, between kisses.

“I’m really truly sorry sweetie.  I should have volunteered that instead of hoping that it just wouldn’t come up.”

“Fortunately, something else has come up and recovered quite nicely, I see.”

“You see? Or you feel?”

“Come on… let’s go inside and finish this.”

That was our euphemism for doing it after a spanking.  Why we needed a euphemism? Don’t know.  Could have just said lets go boink like bunnies.  But it was always “Let’s finish it.”  And we did.





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Angel’s Pre-Punishment Blog


Readers,


Another nice entry from Angel, who will be receiving this punishment…today.


*****

It’s possible the VBB now has some competition in the “naughtiness” department and I am hoping his very nice wife (both of whom wished me well regarding my injury) will allow him to sympathize with my angst and provide me with some advice on how to deal with this anxiety.  And Dana, of course, who is ultimately in charge of comment approval.
Anyway, I am currently in a predicament that was recently, sort of, within my control. But now I’ve been completely stripped of any management of this situation because my Mistress has become indirectly involved and last night She threatened to call Dana – although She insists it wasn’t a threat.  Kevin and I think differently. 
We were at the studio and I was in too much pain and too exhausted to travel.  We both missed our Mistress terribly and when She called to check on us, we put Her on speakerphone.  We were having a great time for about an hour.  She made me forget how tired and horrible I was feeling.  I was supposed to go back to Her apartment but I couldn’t make it.  So, I was very sad. It was really nice that She kept Her little slaves company during their sleepover.  She had us both in hysterics and everything was great for a while.
However, towards the end of the night – I, naturally, made some sort of comment that She deemed inappropriate – even though I was joking. I swear on everything dear to me, I was totally joking.   We were talking about Dana and I (please make note of this – JOKINGLY) told my Mistress that Ms. Dana couldn’t do anything to me or Kevin because she’s not our Mistress. Kevin got a little chuckle out of it – mostly because he knew that was ridiculous and I wasn’t at all serious, but our Mistress did not see the humor.  I’m afraid this might be turning into a Ms. Mona Rogers-ish relationship for me and Kevin. 
Mistress Mona is second in command and now Ms. Dana has her own powers, as well.  This could be good or bad.  This means she could play with Kevin and I if we are good and she is in the mood (and really, has this woman ever NOT been in the mood to spank somebody for some reason or another???) or she can punish us if we are bad and she doesn’t have to request specific permission.  It’s pretty clear she’s been “preapproved” since her last visit to NY.  Perhaps that’s why DN got upset, because I already know this.  I wasn’t joking about a Mistress or Dominant who hasn’t been granted any authority.  Whatever the case, She was mildly offended.
I, umm, don’t think I’m allowed to joke anymore until I get my attitude under control.  Immediately following my little “funny” is when DN said She was strongly considering calling Dana directly.  I suppose the intent of this would be so that there would be no uncertainly on Dana’s part regarding her level of interaction with us.  Ms. Dana is extremely respectful as a Top and highly protocol oriented – so I could see where she might be hesitant to punish one of us (if such a situation were to arise) if she didn’t have distinct permission to do so.
It sounded like DN wanted to make it clear to Dana personally that she has the authority to discipline us when we are in her presence.  Maybe she was thinking Kevin and I would try some kind of trickery and try to keep this information from Dana  However, neither of us would do that because DN would consider that lying by omission – and that is very frowned upon by our Mistress.  I’m sure Dana doesn’t think it’s too great, either.  Kevin hasn’t been spanked for this yet.  But I couldn’t sit down for a very long time after She tricked me into confessing something that I didn’t directly lie about; I just wasn’t exactly forthcoming.  Apparently, not telling IS a lie.
So, yes, I already told Dana that DN has extended Her permission for play/discipline/punishment and of course anything work related.  I hope DN doesn’t think I lied.  But Kevin and I were both frozen in fear at the thought that She might call Dana, anyway. The room went completely silent and Kevin and I looked at each other for a brief second, our faces contorting into expressions of distress before we both began pleading with Her not to.  Kevin is not in trouble with Dana, but now he officially knows he can be, and I saw the blood drain from his face.  At one point DN asked us why we were so quiet and reminded us “no one had died” and there was no need to be so somber.  Except there kind of is.
Okay, okay – what the hell am I getting at already, you all must be wondering.  Where’s the spanking?  Well, it’s coming.  Literally.  Sunday, the 13th of November: somewhere between 5 and 8pm.  Dana and I had a “play date,” scheduled.  However, I did ask her if we could incorporate actual discipline into the session as I am truly having a problem with letting my emotions dictate my behavior – my injury was actually partially the result of an angry outburst.  No one got hurt but me, don’t worry.  Beyond that I really felt awful that I had upset my Mistress and was not entirely feeling deserving of a perfectly enjoyable session – especially because Dana’s visit had a little something to do with DN not wearing out my bottom the week of the transgression, which would have made it impossible for me to interact with Dana, considering how hard my Mistress was intending to spank me.
I was pretty honest with Dana, and I certainly didn’t have to twist her arm to get her agree to some true domestic discipline for real-life infractions.  However, because I had suggested it myself – I assumed I’d have some liberties to adjust the session if necessary: i.e. if Dana starts spanking me too hard or in ways that I particularly dislike, mercy would be granted easily and << I >> could determine the level of discipline I didn’t want to surpass for either physical or psychological reasons.
However, this has all dramatically shifted and this is how it happened:
DN and I were resting in bed.  She was so nice and loving to me despite everything – I imagine it’s because She very much knows how much I love and adore Her, despite my childish and bratty behavior at times.  We spoke about a lot of things, including being “accountable.”  I told Her that I was honest with Dana and requested some discipline for my poor behavior.  DN was very on-board with this idea, and while I certainly didn’t think She’d have any objections –  I wasn’t exactly expecting it to go much further than that.  I was wrong.
“What is Dana going to do to you for acting like this?” DN asked me.
I suddenly felt afraid and honestly told her I was completely clueless.   I have no idea what Dana is going to do to me.  What I do know is that not only did DN tell me I was to let Dana know she had her full consent to actually PUNISH me (yes She used the bad scary word), but that also I was to give Dana a list outlining the specific ways I dislike being spanked.  This goes without saying (although I’m pretty sure DN actually did say it) that she wants Dana to know to best way punish me if this is something she wants to take on during our scene – and now that she has the necessary go-ahead; I can’t really see her declining.  This is very bad.   While I completely trust Dana, I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I really have no control now.  I felt this the moment Dana turned her suggestion that I send her the list (after an entire paragraph rambling and whining about it) into a pretty clear directive: “Angel.  Send me the list.  Now please.”  I guess that settled it, although I won’t lie and say I wasn’t curious to know what she would have done if I had “forgot” to send it or just told her “No.  I don’t want to.” I don’t really think she gets mad, but that would probably qualify as an #introuble. (Sorry – twitter withdrawal.  DN punished me from twitter and this is the only way I can get my fix) So, Dana has the list.  But I’m mad that she made me send it to her.  I’m mad that my Mistress got involved and now I have no control over the situation. I’m mad that I can’t change my mind. Yes, I am mad.
I am also utterly conflicted.  There’s an extremely genuine part of me that cries out to be punished and repent and receive the imparted lesson with a willing spirit and heart, and of course I could use the therapeutic effects that occur from a punishment both during and after the experience.  I also know that my Mistress would appreciate it and that maybe it would afford me a little extra forgiveness and possibly getting twitter back by accepting to be “accountable”.  And if the spanking is aversive enough to help me control my behavior – it’s not something I should resist for the sake of my health, sanity and relationships.
However, as much as I hate to admit this – there is a rebellious part of me that wants nothing to do with it.  The spirit of rebellion grew more “spirited” once my Mistress told me to tell Dana she could punish me for my overflowing inability to control my emotions and attitude – if that is something she feels comfortable doing.  And the rebellion secretly skyrocketed after I had to send Dana the “list.”  I don’t think any more honesty can hurt me at this point. 
So I am really having very contradictory attitudes towards this experience.  I am excited about seeing Dana, very excited. And I am more than intrigued to know what it might be like to actually be punished by her in a serious way for behaviors that actually need to be punished because they are dramatically affecting my life. But I could totally live with that curiosity going unfulfilled as I’m also somewhat terrified because I know Dana knows exactly what she is doing – which won’t be good for me in the moment, but will be once it’s over. It’s really the “moment” I am worried about.  I am afraid she will utilize the list and I am even more afraid that I might have a poor reaction to this.  I’m sure she can handle it, but I might not be able to handle it if I don’t get what I want. 
However, I have a strong feeling one way or another it will end with me in remorseful tears after ultimately being spanked into submission and repentance.  Obviously, we’ll keep you posted.
True Brat, aka, Angel


(More from Angel at littleprincessofpain.wordpress.com)
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

F/M Spanking Stories: ‘When I get Older’

Sung to the tune of ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’ by the Beatles, this ‘song’ tickles me to no end for it’s fun style and thoughtful rhyming. Many thanks to the songwriter for his entry in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest.

*****

Stairlift is broken, zimmer frame too
Many years from now
Will you still be sending us for corner time
Birthday spankings, hearing us whine

If you have spanked us, over your knee
Will we ask for more
Smacks they are slowing, but bottoms still glowing.
When your sixty four


You’ll be older soon,
And if you say the word,
We will thank you too..
Keeping the paddle, handy to see
No holes barred and Cane
You can make us shiver almost any time
Tell us when we step out of line

Sitting at dinner, wiggling around
Coz our butts are sore
Joints they are creaking
Its Advil your seeking
When your sixty four.

Looking at wheelchairs, feeling the cold
Sitting by the fire
Memories of spankings past, forever on line
Making sure we get home on time

Have a great birthday, presents galore
You should ask for more
Will you still meet us,
remember to beat us.
When your sixty four..

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

Original F/M Spanking Story: ‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’


 Readers,


Here is another excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, and another reason why I wish that I could award each entrant with a ‘prize’ all his/her own. Enjoy.


– Dana

*****

‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’


Michael clicked on his favourites… KTO, and the page appeared..
And there she was, this stunning, beautiful 38 year old lady, standing holding the cane, about to spank the man on the bed, his bottom already red..
He checked what was new.. then went to the Trust post, his answer was still there.. How had he written that? What had caused him to blurt out the secret that he had kept inside?
Was it her face? Was it how, on a video clip, she had started to break the blood vessels on a cute bottom, and started on something else?

He scrolled down to the videos clips..
Which ones would he watch today? Before the Party, After the Party, he saw that red top, that pencil skirt…His Spanking one and two…Product testing, so close to his fantasies, Yet not his ultimate fantasy..
He clicked on the play button and closed his eyes… the audio came through his headphones, and he relaxed, letting what he knew would happen take effect..
Smack after smack after smack rained down on his bottom… he could hear her words, soothing, punctuated by a deep breath, a stop that, stop kicking, I’ve had it with the wiggling..
He felt every smack on his bottom, odd numbers, even numbers, the same side, a different side
Then another sound, the tawse, then a long, thin, wooden paddle.. He could feel them on his bottom.. feel the warmth building…how would they feel in real life?
How would he cope with that? The paddling, The No Holes Barred?
Would he hold his breath when commanded to? Could he stop himself saying yellow? 

Then Michael ended with Product Testing, and the warmth flowed through him..

He opened his eyes, and saw the time.. He switched off the internet, ran the history clearer, and went for a shower. The phone rang
Good afternoon Mr XXXX, your taxi has arrived..

Be right there, Michael said, and put on his suit jacket.. looked at himself in the mirror, checked his keys, and wallet, and card key, and closed the door. 
He walked through reception, smiled at the lady behind the desk, and stepped out into the heat, then got in the taxi waiting outside..

This address, said Michael..
Going anywhere nice, said the taxi driver,
Yes.. said Michael, I am going to get my birthday present to myself.

They stopped at the address, he paid the driver, and walked up the path.
Dana opened the door… 
Your late for your birthday spanking, she said.. not a good start young man, she said tapping her cane.


I walked through the door…
*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

F/M Spanking Story: ‘Close to Home’

A very well-written (slightly edited for somewhat naughty content) entry for the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, ‘Close to Home’ is further proof of the creativity of the readers and contributors to this blog. Thank you.


– Dana

*****

‘Close to Home’


Chapter 1

“Gggrrruuuunnnh…”

Wow that hurt!  I was really struggling, and stood up breathing fast but deeply. I turned around to look at her. 

“C’mon John… You can take one more. Let’s get you to ‘six of the best’ …you’ve taken it so well… remember when you were only going to try for three?  If you took those extra two you may as well make it to six, right?” 

Dana gave me that cute impish smile of hers.   “Do it for me. Back down you go. One more. Remember- widen your stance a little and get your back down… I like to see all of you.”

So back down I went, and she lifted my shirt tail up on my back again, caressing me as she did so. 

Our “session” was over, and this had started off as a light hearted before-you-leave-you’ve-got-to-try-the-cane-just-a little-to-get-the-full-DanaKane-experience thing. But it had grown from there. I felt like I truly was at the edge of my limits. I was wrong, but first there was the matter of that last stroke. 

“Get ready John. This one’s going to hurt.”

Really? I couldn’t have gues –AAAAHH OWwww…OH Fu… Holy Mother of… Sonuva… That REALLY hurt. So bad that I didn’t stand up but just collapsed on the bed. 

Dana came over to comfort me, rubbing my back and the welts on my rear.  Also some mischievous pinching and poking at those welts.  We talked about the marks a bit, and she asked how this compared to both my expectations of our session and to playdates when I was the one spanking ladies. Gradually, I composed myself. (The view of her legs in that skirt combined with the way she was sitting helped a little.) Dana explained how proud she was of me, especially for a newbie.  

My butt was still throbbing, but soon I was feeling elated. I got up from the bed and started walking around the room- strangely excited. I’d done it!  I took my first ever spanking, and then took six of the best on top of that! 

I went over to Dana and we shared a genuine hug. My arms were wrapped around her, and hers around me, when she slid her hand down and grabbed my still sore rear end and gave it a squeeze. ***

“John there’s still one last matter we need to take care of. I don’t want you to miss out on your birthday spanking.”

Gulp. Remove hand quickly…I thought she’d forgotten about that. Time to backtrack… “That’s okay Dana. Pretty sure I’ve had enough, and besides, I was just joking in those emails. Remember I even offered to give you your birthday spanking too!  Cause our birthdays were so close together, it was kinda funny. HaHa…I was really just trying to be funny…joking… thanks for offering, but maybe you’ll be back in Houston this time next year. Besides, I know my time’s up and know your time is valuable.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t forget, but was going to let it go until just now.  Seems like you’re still plenty fiesty. I’d be remiss if I didn’t correct that, and besides, John, who else is going to give you a birthday spanking?  It’s something I want to do. Think of it as my little birthday present to you!”

“Only thing is…” she started unbuttoning my shirt, “birthday spankings I think are best received by those in their birthday suits! Now finish stripping down, all the way. Fold your clothes and stand at attention when you’re done.  I’ll be right back.”

*****
 I could hear her rustling around in her implement bag.  She returned carrying a large but fairly thin wooden paddle, and laid it down on the table before coming up to me. 

***** 

“Now, bend over again. Not all the way down on your elbows this time- just your hands. Stick your butt out some more.” 

I heard the rattle as she picked up the paddle from the table. I thought about protesting once more, I felt great, but was afraid my rear would look like raw hamburger meat after 36 paddle swats. Oh well, I was along for the ride and gripped the covers tightly in my hands. 
She placed one hand on my back, and I could feel the wooden paddle rubbing both cheeks. 

“Count these out for me, birthday boy”

Pop! 

The first one was frankly not as hard as I’d braced myself for- more than a tap, but not a full thwack or swat as I’d expected.

“One”

Hey, I think I can take this, I thought to myself. They stung, but weren’t so bad…

“Fourteen!”

Starting to sting a lot. Was it my imagination or were the getting a little harder?

POP!

“Fifteen”

“You know I don’t get into the whole ‘thank you mistress’ bit, but I think you should make more of an effort than just counting the number- vary it if you want to.”

Smack!

“Sixteen. Thank you Dana.” Yes, these were definitely getting harder…

“Aaah… Twenty-one. ‘preciate it ma’am.”

My butt was on fire. The whole thing. I couldn’t even tell where each swat landed…OH! Never-mind…Yeah, I could. 

“Thirty-four, oh please…Dana”

Almost there, just hang on tight…

Whack!

“Thirty-five, I’ll always remember my thirty-fifth birthday thank you!”

“And one to grow on…”

“Ooof! Thank you. Thank you Dana!”

Whack!

“Hey?!”

“Well I’m not sure if I’ll be here again next year this time so…”

Whack!

“…thought I should cover next year too!”

Whack!

“You forgot to count. We’re on two.”

“Two. Thank you.”

They went on. Each one a real paddle swat now, and I struggled to maintain my composure. The worst was having to vocalize- the number was now preceded by unintelligble groans. 

“Grrrr ah ah twenty-two thank you”

Splat!

“Owow no please please twenty three ma’am.”

This went on and about midway through the twenties I could feel my vision blurring… closed my eyes and felt a tear trickle down my cheek. That actually helped my resolve.  Well, at least for a couple more until once again I was at the point of losing it. 

“No OWw oh… That one really… Ow. Thirty one. Thanks”

“I know it hurts John. It’s supposed to. But you’re doing so well taking it. I’m not going to go easy on these last few.”

As she said this, she laid the paddle down and rubbed my butt. At one point her hand teased my crack. In spite of the pain it still sent another kind of jolt through me. 

“Let’s finish up. I know it hurts. It’s okay to let go.”

CRACK!

“Aaaaah!! Thirty…thirty something uhm.. Ma’am.” 

“That was thirty two dear. And now again…”

CRACK!

I was immediately right back where I was before the break, if not worse. My voice was cracking with each attempt to count, and the tears were flowing. My bottom was covered in flames. 

“Haaarrnnggh! Ungh ah ah thirty.. Thirty four ma’am”

WHAACK!!

“Aaaahhh Nnngguhh No ahhh.. THIRTY-FIVE MA’AM!!”

I did let go at that point and just collapsed. One to grow on was thankfully just a tap as Dana recognized that I had truly reached my limit. Again the comforting. This time she brought out a bottle of lotion and soothed my burning cheeks. All the emotions from the last time were there, just magnified. When I got up I was flying higher on endorphins than right after taking the cane.

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

Give ’til it Hurts: Spanking for Charity



Readers,


In 2012, I will begin organizing and planning several fundraising ideas to coincide with community events all over the country.


The general idea is a ‘Get a Spanking for Charity’-type fundraising booth at spanking parties (held by groups such as Chicago’s Crimson Moon) where all donations will go directly to an animal charity organization in that group’s local area.  I will not be selling product at these events, and every dollar given will be passed along to the chosen non-profit organization. 


I have always been involved in animal charities, and have had, thus far, a life full of the love of pets I’ve adopted, found, or rescued. There are thousands of worthy places to donate money, and I will make careful choices of the local organizations doing good work. They all need lots of funding, and I cannot imagine a more fun way to help out than Spanking for Charity.


When you’re planning your party schedule and budget for 2012, please remember to put aside a few dollars for what I hope you’ll agree is a worthy cause, and a helluva lot of fun.


– Dana

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

F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry


A really great entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, this untitled story from a contributor who I’ll call ‘Anthony’ is another example of the wonderful imaginations at work in this (and every) contest. Enjoy!
-Dana 
*****

Today was what some would call a “special” day. That’s what they tell you when you’re small as you wait in mind-bending anticipation of the cake that’s larger than your head and the gifts that pile up from friends and family. You see, things are a little different when you’re older. Birthday’s lose the magic that once made them the highlight of the year, right next to Christmas (and if you’re really zealous about egg hunts) Easter. Maybe Halloween if you can tolerate all the candy, but I was more a cookie kinda guy, and you don’t get cookies on Halloween. I did get relentlessly tricked and teased however, which made it my least favorite “holiday.”
Every year past my 21st birthday, things got a little on the depressing side. Nothing to look forward to. I’d past the drinking age long ago and really what was left to look forward to but milestones that come with absolutely no benefit but a 2 digit number that will slowly vanish into another, larger, two digit number. And if you make it to the 3 digits chances are you won’t even remember your own name at that point. No, I didn’t like where this getting older “thing” was headed. 6 grays hairs was enough for me to denounce the celebratory process of aging.
I decided to sit this birthday out. I didn’t thank anyone for the cards, especially not my little sister Jillian who sent me one that said, “Congratulations. You survived another birthday,” with a picture of St. Peter looking distracted. I got mad at my sweet, elderly parents for asking me what kind of gift I wanted. They never stopped believing I was 10. I declined the free drinks my co-workers offered me at “guys night out.” Yeah. This sucked. I even shut off the lights and pretended not to be home when my girlfriend showed up with my favorite ice-cream pie. I guess I forgot to tell her I wasn’t celebrating this year. Not answering the door was my way of hoping she’d get the hint without any face-to-face contact.
That turned out to be a “fail” moment when she texted me to answer the door because she knew I was home. I meant to park around the corner and not in the driveway to avoid that problem, but it’s hard to think of everything when you’re depressed. I didn’t answer the door. I could tell Lisa was insulted, and annoyed. Apparently (from what I see through the peephole, anyway) the ice-cream pie was melting through the box onto what looked like a very expensive and sexy sweater she must have bought for the unwanted occasion. But no one told her to stand there with the pie for 20 minutes and no one told her to buy a new sweater either. And another thing, how was I supposed to foresee her dropping the whole thing onto the porch when she tried to text me for the 37th time? I turned the phone off after a while. Lisa remained knocking at the door for another 10 minutes while I watched TV in the windowless basement with the sound muted. Good thing I never gave that woman a key. Clearly she was not good at taking hints. But surely I could not be held responsible for this.
At least I didn’t think I could be. I went to bed without a guilty conscience. Depression trumps guilt. I woke up feeling relieved I had missed my birthday and turned my phone on to a 30 second straight string of beeps indicating missed calls and messages. No need to check. I knew what they were. “Happy birthday this.” “Happy birthday that” “Damnit Anthony, I’m on the frekin’ porch and I know you’re home! Answer the F’en door!” I guess I started to feel a little bad that I ignored Lisa. But that’s what money’s for and why it’s a darn good thing I’m a good lawyer. I could talk my way out of anything and nobody would be the wiser. I’d buy her a new sweater and maybe some roses because I couldn’t remember the kind of flowers she actually likes. Or, I’d have my secretary do it because I don’t even know where the flower shop is.
I decided that’s what I’d do after I took my shower, not realizing my plans were going to be thwarted, not to mention my entire schedule rearranged. I had taken the day off work to play golf but I never made it to the club. The doorbell rang while I still had my towel wrapped around my waist from the shower. I looked through the peephole to find this very attractive woman in attire befitting a professor or business woman. She had beautiful, silky but short black hair and piercing gray-blue eyes that very nicely complimented her ruby lip gloss. She looked stern in her short black skirt and fancy pumps with a white blouse she wore unbuttoned, revealing a navy shirt underneath. She held a briefcase in her right hand and wore sunglasses on her head.
I was reluctant to answer, but thought I’d get a morning thrill out of answering the door in my towel. I figured she was either trying to sell me a vacuum or bible. What great fun that would be to respond so immodestly. I opened the door with a wide grin on my face. A grin that quickly dissolved when the woman spoke.
“Anthony Rabino?” she asked.

(Don’t forget to click ‘Read More’ below to read the full post.)


“Yeah.” I was a bit taken aback that she knew my name. How did the salespeople do this nowadays? She must have gotten my name and address from google. But then again, if she had, she would have known I don’ t go so far as to pick up a broom and I’m a self-proclaimed atheist. I’m sure that’s all on my facebook or myspace profile somewhere.
“Lady,” I told her, “I’m not buying.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said sweetly. “I’m giving it away.”
I’ll admit I was intrigued, even if she was selling the gospel or a Dyson. I had hoped she wasn’t from Avon, because I’m not really a meterosexual kind of guy. Turns out, she really wasn’t selling anything at all. I invited her in, wondering what was in her briefcase. Actually, she kinda invited herself in and told me there was no need to get dressed when I politely offered to go put some pants on. Now this was getting interesting. She was hot. Total opposite look than Lisa, who had bleached blond hair, brown eyes and only decided to dress sexily on occasions I chose not to celebrate. And you gotta give the woman credit, whatever she was selling or “giving away,” must really be important for her to go to such extreme measures. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to write it off on my enormous tax bill, but hey, charity is charity.
“So….” I asked her, raising my brow to appear as sexy as possible while pushing out my muscles for effect, “Where should we do this, upstairs or downstairs?”
“Oh honey,” she said. “Right here is just fine. I’m not shy. You could even leave the windows open.”
Wow. This was hot. I would have definitely left the windows open if we were in some place like Vegas where, “what happens in Vegas…” well you know where this is going. But I washere in Brooklyn, surrounded by my neighbors who knew I was a hotshot lawyer, not to mention my girlfriend lived practically around the corner. So windows open wasn’t exactly looking like a great idea. I nodded my head in approval to indicate I enjoyed her wild streak, but walked over to close the windows and shut the blinds, regardless.
Halfway to window number one, I was halted in my tracks. The woman stood up and slammed her briefcase onto my couch where she had been seated. “I said you could leave the windows open.” Her tone dripped with something acidic, as if I had personally offended her despite the fact I still had no idea who she was or why she was here. But her sweet voice gone sour was enough for me to withdraw my invitation. “Hey, maybe we could do this some other time, ” I meekly suggested since trying to force out a command didn’t seem possible under the circumstances.
I gathered she noticed my apprehension. She set her briefcase aside and her voice dissolved back into that sweet southern accent. “I didn’t mean to scare you sweetie, why don’t you come on over here. But don’t make me have to tell you a third time not to close the windows.” Suddenly I was feeling nervous, a feeling I hadn’t felt since junior high when I had to look over my shoulder every two minutes wondering who was going to mess with me next. It hardened me I guess. When I became successful I didn’t really care about anyone. I had made it big. Almost overnight I had the looks, and the wealth. That’s all a guy needs really. Maybe it didn’t matter so much if the windows were open. It would be just another victory, and there were plenty more Lisa’s where she came from. Besides, I hadn’t done something this exciting since college. My nervousness had now taken the form of this gripping sexual excitement.
I walked over to the woman and sat beside her. She smiled and asked me if I cared to know her name. I didn’t, but at least I had manners. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry,” I lied. “What is your name, beautiful?”
Maybe it was me, but it seemed she was holding back a scowl when she responded. “Dana,” she said. “Dana Kane.”
“Oh,” I mused. “Like, candyCANE?”
She evidently did not find this amusing. “No, sugar, not like candycane,” she replied. “Cane, like the kind you use to blister someone’s bottom. But with a K.”
I disregarded this completely to avoid the strange sensation of fear that gripped me as she spoke. “Well,” I instructed, “Let’s just get down to business here.”
“Absolutely,” she replied, sounding as eager as I felt. “Why don’t you take that towel off for me and let me see all your beautiful assets.” This was something I could definitely do. I knew my body was in pretty good shape, even though I was a year older and might have gained a half of pound the past six months from a slowing metabolism. But unless you knew me very intimately, you really couldn’t tell. Also, I was blessed with an appendage I could brag about it.
I dropped the towel, expecting to show Ms. Kane, with a K, my manliness in its most aroused form. Much to my surprise, she was completely uninterested with my front and very curtly told me to turn around. I had a great ass, too, which she commented on. I didn’t mind too much. I’m mostly a “whatever floats your boat” kinda guy.
Asses definitely kept this woman’s ships sailing. “Oh, this is lovely,” she told me while carefully examining the shape of my buttocks and gently running her sharp nails across my flesh, making it oh so deliciously tender. It was difficult for me to contain my urges and I turned around and asked her if she would take something off for me. I took off my entire towel, and so it was only fair. Boy was I excited when she removed her white blouse.
“So sweetheart, are you gonna give me a better view of thos-“
She interrupted me with a sharp declaration and disappointing answer. “No, honey. I’m just taking my blouse off because I get a better swing that way.”
I had no idea what she meant, but something about the way she said it suddenly deflated my ego, among other things.
“You stay put,” she told me as she picked up her briefcase.
“Oh crap,” I thought. “She’s gonna take out the paperwork NOW?” Again, she managed to surprise me as she opened her case to reveal some strange looking items. Some of them I recognized, like a slipper and wooden hairbrush. The others were small paddles made of various materials, things I had never really seen before and certainly never experimented with. I wasn’t sure I wanted to try now, but she really was difficult to resist.
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to conceal my hesitation. Maybe I was too conventional. It was probably a little spice that was missing in my lust-life with Lisa. “So, Dana, I guess you like it kinky?”
“Why don’t you just come on over my lap and find out?” she instructed.
Over her lap? That seemed juvenile. But we had gone this far. Awkwardly, I positioned my body so that my ass was directly in her field of vision, not realizing I was presenting myself as a target. Before I really understood what was happening, she gripped me in some kind of leg vice so that I couldn’t kick or struggle out of her grasp. “In answer to your question, Anthony, I don’t like it kinky. I like it red and raw. Black and blue. Welted and occasionally bloody.” She emphasized this with a series of smacks to my bottom with a hand that felt to be made of more than just flesh and bones. I had no chance to protest as the slaps reigned down upon my backside, lighting it up with tiny fires just beneath the surface of my rapidly glowing skin and rendering me helpless and without the ability to defend myself.
I had been spanked once as a child. One single, solid smack to the seat of my trousers when I was about three. My mother had been so horrified by my sad expression that she never bothered to do it again, and I rubbed my slightly stingy little booty all the way to the toy store, bakery and my favorite burger joint immediately after.
When the pain started to intensify to the point where it was becoming unendurable, I found myself blurting out, “Look, Dana, this is really not my idea of foreplay. Why don’t we go upstairs and mess around, I’ve got an amazing king-size bed.” In hindsight I should have known better. My suggestion was met with a parade of hand-spanks that had me grunting and screaming in silence.
“That’s Ms. Kane to you from now on,” Dana sternly informed me as I stared dumbfounded at my beige carpet as it was all I could see from this position, that and Ms. Kane’s extraordinary legs and the black heels. She had taken pause but the burning hadn’t. My ass felt like someone had heated up a frying pan and placed it there for fun. I didn’t understand what this woman was doing, but this strict female authoritarian role-play was not my style. If I never knew it before, I knew it now. I was not one of those who relished pain or used it as a means to arousal. Where my member might have been a little perky from the first smack or two, it was now dejectedly limp.
Dana placed her spanking hand on my lower back; it must have been as hot as my ass because it felt like a medicated heat wrap. “Why do you think I’m here Mr. Rabino?” she questioned, as seriously as if she actually expected I should know the answer, which clearly I did not.
“Is it to sell a bible or a vacuum cleaner?” I asked, almost innocently, because she most certainly wasn’t here for a fling.
I didn’t expect that to earn such a stinger, but it did. She cracked me right in the middle of my already sore ass, eliciting a genuine cry of pain. “No, Mr. Rabino. People don’t come to your door to SELL bibles, and it’s been a long time since they’ve gone door to door selling vacuums. I definitely do not do either. I am a business woman however, and today I’m handing out free samples. And I can tell you that this is not a random encounter, and that the only part of me you will be touching is my lap as you lay across it. Is that understood?”
“Uh, not really,” instinct compelled me to reply. I didn’t have time to rethink this as the words had already flown out of my mouth, and no sooner had they done so that my backside was being furiously assaulted by a bionic hand. The muscles in my legs ached to twitch, but they were immobilized and contained in this leg-lock which I had never before experienced. My mind told me that I could overpower this woman, but my legs refused to have anything to do with it. “Oh my God, Dan- Ms. Kane, please stop. I don’t know why you’re doing this but please stop.” The distressful pleas were genuine. I had never felt such an unrelenting pain in all my life.
I thought it was over when she stopped for another second. But she only stopped to reach for the hairbrush, followed by the slipper. As the blows cascaded upon my fired up buttocks, I was filled with a sense of dread. Who was this woman? Why was she doing this? And, Oh my God, the windows are open, anyone coming past the house can hear her hitting me! The horror of that last thought was enough to halt my brain from registering the pain for a moment.
But the moment did not last. Ms. Kane continued to batter my glowing cheeks with every weapon she had in that briefcase. Manly pride reared up and insisted I not cry, but it also rebelled against my desire to attempt to escape. I was able to voice my concern about the window when I noticed that the smacks and corresponding yelps carried a serious echo. “Please, Ms. Kane.The windows. Everyone can hear you, us, this.”
“Oh yes, I know,” she told me in a very strict matter-of-fact tone. “That’s the point. I want your cries to make their way all the way over to Lisa’s house where she is on her couch sobbing, recovering from how miserably you treated her on your birthday.”
“You know Lisa?” I gasped, in between rapid strokes with the sole of her slipper.
“I know Lisa” she said, and then came the soft-spoken, swift but very stern lecture that occurred with just a mild raising of the voice to emphasis certain flaws in my personality. Selfish.SMACK. Cruel. SMACK. Egotistical. SMACK. Poor excuse for a boyfriend. SMACK. Ungrateful. SMACK. After these choice words and the application of some sort of paddle, my free hand defied my better judgment and extended itself in a furious panic to try to interfere with Dana’s punishing implement. This was an unwise move and that free hand was soon locked behind me with her non-spanking hand. This gave Ms. Kane the opportunity to strike my thighs since I was in no position to resist. Thankfully she had put the paddle to rest and used her hand to deliver some very serious whacks to my tender flesh. This was more painful than I could have imagined and the worst was certainly not over.
My mind was still reeling with the knowledge that Ms. Kane had somehow found her way here because of Lisa, although I still didn’t understand the connection between the two. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was atoning for the horrible way that I had treated Lisa, which had not at all mattered until the words were being beaten into me while I lay face down over a stranger’s lap, unable to move a muscle to protect my body or my psyche. I was now a little shaky, and pleading loudly despite the open windows. My cries for mercy didn’t absolve me, instead they earned me a signature spanking with a portable cane small enough to fit in Dana’s cleverly disguised case for all-things-spanking.
It didn’t take much before I betrayed myself and the floodgates opened. I had entered into some sort of private confessional with this woman, spewing out random fears and incidents of pain that existed in my past that led me to behave so improperly as an adult. While Ms. Kane assured me, between my sobs and strokes of the cane, that she understood and appreciated my honesty, she also told me this was not an excuse to treat the people that cared about me with such great disrespect.
She was here, she said, to teach me that excuses never serve anyone in the end. So what that I hated birthdays? I was lucky to have someone who truly loved me to share one with, who brought me an ice-cream pie wearing a brand new sweater. I had parents who still wanted to keep the magic alive for me, who taught me that you are only as young as you feel. I had friends who cared enough to take me out to dinner, on their tab. And I had sister who wanted to show me not to take life so seriously, to find the humor in the occasion. I was looking at everything backwards the whole time but was unable to see it until having my bottom blistered by this beautiful, fascinating woman who could wear your backside out long before she wore out her hand spanking it.
I remained over her lap quite a while, long after the spanking was over, crying like any small child would after having been soundly punished for being incorrigible. Ms. Kane consoled me with her words, gave me instructions to call Lisa once I had composed myself and reminded me that any day can be a “special” day, and maybe birthdays weren’t so bad in hindsight.Although I’m sure I had a few extra gray hairs after having endured the hiding of my life from a woman I would later learn prides herself on being a real-life disciplinarian, a martinet of justice who travels the country in search of wayward boys to reign them back into obedience with the good ol’ fashioned rod of correction. Come to think of it, maybe she was selling the bible after all.

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

Dana Kane, by RedRump


Readers,

Please indulge me in a bit of crowing:

I received this beautiful piece of custom artwork from RedRump, and am just beyond complimented that he’s taken the time to create something in my likeness.

I’ll be enlarging and framing this wonderful stroking of my ego, and placing it in my playroom.

– Dana

(Thanks again, RR. I am continually amazed at your creativity.)

PS. For those of you not yet familiar with RedRump, visit his blogsite HERE
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

My Birthday Spanking Story Contest Winner



Readers,


This was a particularly enjoyable contest, as the entries are all so varied and unique. I am certain that you will enjoy them as much as I have. 


I must issue my usual disclaimer that choosing one winner for these little contests is extremely difficult. There were nearly two dozen individual submissions to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, and each author made a genuine effort at excellence. (Entrants: I am, as always, pleased and thoroughly humbled at your willingness to share your talents with me and the readers of my blog. Without your contributions, it would be a much less interesting place.)


And the winner is:


‘A Shared Experience’

*****




My Birthday Spanking
or
A Shared Experience

Birthdays at work were best avoided, Tim always thought.  He couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed the vapid birthday card messages less than the soul-destroying lunchtime cupcakes, but he would have been much happier with neither. In fact, this was the first time in three years that he hadn’t taken a personal day.  But Zoe had an important paper due; she didn’t want him mooching around the house and spilling coffee grounds in the kitchen drawers.

It wasn’t all bad. Birthdays meant casual dress, so Tim was in jeans and a t-shirt, and not sweating in a suit like everyone else. And there had been the text message from Zoe at about 2 pm: “Hope the birthday police aren’t making you wear a silly hat. Just think about what you’ve got coming to you when you get home… xZx”

Always pretty adventurous in the bedroom, the couple had played with spanking since the beginning of their relationship.  But it was only about a year ago that Tim had admitted that his interest wasn’t quite as casual as his early nonchalant suggestions might have implied.  It had led to a tense few weeks. Zoe couldn’t quite shake the notion that Tim had been dishonest about how consuming his interest in spanking was. And Tim’s suggestion that they might be able to incorporate discipline into their daily or weekly routine felt to her like a selfish demand. (His subsequent suggestion that Zoe might want to spank him for this selfishness had proven to be mistimed and misguided.)

Some horse-trading had followed – spankings for massages, spankings for tidying, spankings for just-about-anything-Tim-could-think-of.  But misfiring expectations, promised spankings forgotten, and a lack of common ground on this one issue had put a real strain on their relationship. Tim couldn’t fault Zoe’s openness, willingness to experiment, lack of judgement, or general wonderfulness. Just being able to talk about spanking openly was a huge relief, and a huge excitement. But some people just didn’t have the same wiring as others, he realized, and for Zoe spanking him was always going to be something she could enjoy because he did. It was a generous motivation of course. But no matter how many times and how many ways Tim tried to explain that he wanted real discipline and real accountability, to Zoe it was still a game – a fantasy to be enjoyed and role-played.

And so they’d settled on a sort-of unspoken compromise. Spanking was a regular and enjoyable part of their lives; and although it occasionally came with the hint of admonishment for real-life transgressions, it was usually requested by Tim, or offered as a reward for a completed tax return, an empty dishwasher, or a particularly attentive evening.

Or for a birthday.

(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to see the full story.)


It had been Zoe’s suggestion that Tim should get a birthday spanking when he got home from work. She’d reminded him of it as he left in the morning, and sent the text message later in the day.  Tim loved it on the occasions that she did take control and initiate, and he was a bundle of nervous excitement all the way home on the subway. Would she be waiting, hairbrush in hand, when he came through the door? He hoped so. More often, a promised spanking would happen later, before bed, or even be forgotten. It wasn’t that Zoe was thoughtless – far from it – but simply that spanking would never be at the forefront of her mind in the way it always was for Tim.

Tim climbed the stairs to their second floor apartment and unlocked the door. Suddenly he heard a burst of laughter from inside the apartment.  He stepped in, and his heart sank. Zoe was sitting on the sofa, with some of her books open in front of her, and a cup of coffee. Sitting opposite her was another woman, someone Tim didn’t know.  They’d been chatting and laughing, and looked up when Tim came through the door.

It wasn’t that unusual for Zoe to have study partners over during the day, especially when she was working on an assignment. She was two years into her PhD now, and worked with a diverse group of people, not all of whom Tim had met. But this wasn’t exactly how Tim had hoped this evening would go. 

“Hi birthday boy,” smiled Zoe, standing up and kissing him briefly, “this is my friend Dana.” She gestured to the other woman, who remained sitting but extended her right hand. Tim reached forward and shook it. She was a few years older than Zoe, but she had the same high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. She also had a remarkably firm handshake, Tim noticed in passing.

“Hi Dana, nice to meet you,” he said, without really hiding his disappointment. As usual, he had let his expectations run riot, but it was his birthday after all. Didn’t he have a right to expect Zoe to prioritise his needs today? Was it too much to ask for spanking to be a feature of the evening and not just an afterthought? He could tell that this was going to make him grumpy for the rest of the night.  By the time this Dana finally left and Zoe finished her paper, it would be a few cursory whacks rather than a proper session. Boo.

As these thoughts crossed Tim’s mind, he noticed Zoe and Dana exchange a smile, and he saw Dana give a little nod. He suddenly thought they might almost burst out laughing again – what was so funny? He shrugged it off, and turned to head to the kitchen – maybe a glass of wine would put him in a slightly better mood.

“Not so fast mister,” Zoe said abruptly.

Tim was surprised at her tone of voice. It was playful, and stern, and she didn’t use it that often. “I’m just going to get a drink,” he replied, with a little dismissive laugh, and carried on towards the kitchen.

Her response was lightning quick: “I said not so fast, mister. Don’t get smart with me.”

“Zoe…?” He was looking at Dana apologetically. He didn’t want to fight, and God he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong or what this fight was about. He knew Zoe was very sensitive to his moods, and didn’t like it when he was grumpy. But it certainly wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of a complete stranger. Strangely, Dana didn’t seem at all embarrassed. She was looking straight back at Tim calmly.

“You will look at me when I’m talking to you Tim,” Zoe interrupted. “And don’t think that I’m going to go easy on you just because we’ve got company. I’m not embarrassed, and Dana isn’t embarrassed.”

Tim was definitely embarrassed. He was about to ask what this was all about, but Zoe carried on, fixing him squarely in the eye.

“Shush, no,” she said sharply. “For the rest of this evening I don’t want you answering back, or talking unless Dana or I ask you a direct question.” 

Zoe glanced at Dana quickly, then carried on.

“I’ve had enough of you flouncing around the apartment like a petulant little boy whenever you don’t get your way. From the second you got into the apartment and saw that we had a guest you’ve been pouting,” she continued. “And all because you came home expecting me to do exactly what you wanted and spank you.”

Tim stood dumbfounded. What on earth was Zoe doing? Did she know that her classmate was still here. He looked helplessly at Zoe, then at her friend.  He expected Dana to be horrified; packing up her things quickly to make an embarrassed exit.  But instead she just picked up her cup of coffee and took a slow sip.

“Zoe said you should look at her when she’s talking to you Tim,” Dana offered with a smile. Her voice was firm, but not angry or loud. It was compelling.  Still completely confused, and utterly embarrassed, Tim turned back to face his wife.

“Thank you Dana,” said Zoe, in a voice which meant business. “Well then, Tim,” she continued, “you are going to get a spanking, and it’s going to be the hardest and most painful spanking you’ve ever received. And it’s not going to be a spanking because it’s your birthday, or because you asked for it. It’s going to be a spanking because I am fed up with you behaving like a spoilt child every time you don’t get your way, and making me feel like I’m not doing a good enough job. Do you understand?”

Tim stared blankly at Zoe.

Do. You. Understand?” She repeated herself slowly.

There was a silence which felt to Tim felt like an hour. In fact it was probably no more than five seconds before Dana spoke next. “Tim, I think you should answer the question. It sounds like you’re in enough trouble as it is, and you don’t want to make things worse for yourself. Do you understand what’s about to happen, and why you’re being punished?”

Tim couldn’t quite believe that this stranger was talking to him like this.  But she was confident and composed, and seemed in no mood to be argued with. Confused, he looked back at Zoe and nodded.

“Good,” said Zoe, folding her arms across her chest. “Since you understand what you’ve done wrong and why I’m about to spank your bottom very hard, I’m going to give you some time to think about your behaviour.  I want you to kneel in that corner,” she instructed, pointing behind him. “I want your nose touching the wall and your hands on your head.”

Tim paused.

“Right NOW mister.” 

The sharpness in Zoe’s voice made Tim jump. He quickly turned around and knelt in the corner of the living room, linking his hands behind his head. He really didn’t know what was going on, but he did know that when the person you loved told you to do something in that tone of voice, you did it right away without asking any more questions.

“And you’ll stay there until I’m ready to begin,” said Zoe. “I’m afraid that the days of doing things to your schedule are long gone, young man.”

Tim heard Zoe sit back on the sofa. Then the two women started chatting, obviously picking up a conversation they had left off when Tim had got home. They were talking about school – Zoe explaining some of the work she was doing for her PhD, and Dana reminiscing about her own university experiences. In fact, they were acting as though Tim wasn’t there at all.

Tim didn’t pay much attention; his mind was racing.  He’d talked to Zoe about being spanked in front of a witness. But he’d talked about a lot of things, and honestly he thought that she didn’t really pay much attention when he was talking about spanking. He felt suddenly ashamed that he’d underestimated how attentive she had actually been in those discussions. She had come so far to meet his often petulant demands and requests, and done so with kindness, good faith and generosity, as she did with all things. And he’d repaid her by increasing his expectations, and making her feel always like she was letting him down.  Almost on the verge of tears, he wasn’t in any doubt now about why he was being punished in this way, or about how real it was.

Eventually, as the hardwood floor was really making its presence known on Tim’s knees, the conversation stopped, and he heard both women stand.

“Right then,” said Zoe. “How do you think we should get started.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to respond to this, until he realized the question hadn’t been intended for him, but for Dana.

“Well some people suggest something like a hand-spanking as a warm up, but I often find that a short sharp shock is a good way to kick things off, especially when dealing with such serious and real issues,” Dana responded.  Tim heard her reaching into a bag, then heard Zoe’s footsteps walking towards the dining room and back again.

A moment later he heard Zoe’s voice.  “Stand up please Tim, and turn around.” She’d resumed her earlier tone, and would clearly brook no argument.

Tim stood and turned around, keeping his hands on his head.  In the middle of the room facing the sofa was a dining chair, and sitting on top of it was a thick leather strap. Tim had seen leather straps in spanking videos on the internet, and had even toyed with the idea of getting one for Zoe, but he didn’t know how she would feel about it. Seeing this implement now – a good eighteen inches long and three wide, with a wooden handle – he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about it either. In the past Zoe had hand spanked him, and occasionally (on his request) tried a hairbrush. Clearly, this was going to be something quite different.

Zoe picked up the strap. “Tim, I’d like you to stand behind the chair, bend over and place both your hands on the seat.”

Contritely, Tim obeyed, flattening his palms on the wooden seat of the chair. He wasn’t hugely flexible and his back arched – he felt a hand push insistently at the base of his spine, and bent further.

“I’m going to start with ten hard licks with Dana’s strap. We’ll see what’s next after that. I want you to keep your hands flat on the chair at all times,” instructed Zoe, “and I want you to raise your head and look straight forwards. Do you understand?”

Tim nodded, and grunted his assent.

“I think ‘Yes Maam’ would be a more appropriate response Tim.” Tim looked up at Dana, who had spoken from her position on the sofa, sitting right in front of Tim and looking him in the eye.

“Um… yes maam,” Tim stuttered looking back at Dana.

“Good,” said Zoe happily. Half a second later Tim felt his bottom explode and heard a huge crack, as Zoe landed the strap squarely on top of his jeans. It was more painful than he could have imagined – an instant, radiating fire.  He jumped up and spun round, looking questioningly, almost pleadingly at his wife.

She was unmoved. “What part of ‘keep your hands flat on the chair’ don’t you understand,” she asked, “or am I somehow not making my point clearly enough?.” She paused and glanced at Dana, then continued.  “Right, this is your first, last and only warning. If you move out of position once more, then we’ll start again from the beginning.” She paused again, looking up at Dana. Dana gave a barely perceptible nod, and Zoe continued. “And if I have to do that, I will pull your pants down and bare your ass. And don’t you dare think that I won’t do it because we have company. I’ve seen it all before and so has Dana. So you had better just try and exercise a little bit of self-control mister. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”

That was pretty clear, Tim felt. When she’d spanked him before, Zoe usually made him take down his pants. But he didn’t think he could deal with the embarrassment of having his bottom bared in front of this stranger, and he didn’t want to think about what that strap might feel like across his naked butt.  He turned around, bent over and muttered “yes ma’am”. He looked up, and met Dana’s eyes. She was smiling broadly now, and she nodded encouragingly at Zoe.

The next lick cracked across Tim’s jeans with the same ferocity as the first. But he’d been expecting it this time, and managed to meet it with only a sharp intake of breath, and a pleading look at Dana. It was just as painful as the first stroke had been. 

The third stroke came about ten seconds later, and Tim was grateful for that short recovery time; he was pretty confident he could get through the remaining licks without moving out of position. He’d barely had time to think that though, when the next four strokes landed one after the other, in an almost immediate rising crescendo of stinging pain. As each lick seared his bottom, Tim felt a tide of rising panic, as he struggled to keep his palms planted on the seat top, and his eyes focused on Dana’s gently mocking smile. He thought that perhaps he was nearly there, when Zoe planted stroke number seven across the top of his thighs. With only a single layer of denim protecting this part of his anatomy, the pain level notched up once more. Instinctively, Tim reached back to protect his legs. He recognized his mistake instantly, and his hand shot back to the seat, but it was too late.

“Right. You were warned about this. It was a lack of self-discipline that got you into this mess in the first place, and that same lack of self-discipline has just landed you in considerably hotter water,” said Zoe. “Stay exactly where you are.”

A second later, he felt her arms reach around from behind him, and start to unbuckle his belt. As Dana looked on impassively, Zoe quickly unbuttoned his jeans.  She reached her hands into his waistband, grabbing a fistful of waistband and white boxer briefs on either side of his hips, and in a single rough motion pulled his jeans and underwear down to the ground, where they sat, bunched forlornly at his feet.

Tim flushed bright red, as he felt the cool air of the a/c on his butt. He was suddenly massively grateful for the high, solid-backed dining chair, which was currently preserving his modesty from Dana. Well at least that was more motivation to stay in position. His modesty wasn’t preserved from his wife though, who was standing behind him, strap in hand, looking happily at his completely exposed ass.

“Starting again then Tim,” she said. “Ten licks with the strap. And we can keep starting from scratch all night if you like.”

Tim bedded his palms into the dining chair seat, and looked up at Dana. He would happily have had the ground swallow him whole at this point. Bent over a dining chair, with his wife whipping his bare ass, and a perfect stranger staring him in the face: it was not how he’d expected this evening to go. But he was beginning to realize that his expectations were a big part of the reason he was here at all. This was happening, whether he liked it or not.

When Zoe swung the strap and connected with his bare bottom, he realized that he was absolutely not going to like it. Not at all. That stroke of the strap across his naked flesh was the single most painful thing he could remember experiencing.  He had absolutely no control over his right hand as it swung around behind him to protect his burning butt.

Zoe stopped, sighed, and looked up at Dana. “What do you think?” she said. “Do I just start again? He’s only had one.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim stuttered. He was grateful at least that he had managed to stay bent over the chair, hiding his nakedness from this woman he’d met less than half-an-hour earlier.

“Clearly not sorry enough,” said Dana. She looked at Zoe, then back at Tim. “You are obviously lacking in self-control nearly as much as you are lacking in respect.” She looked back up at Zoe. “Do you remember that we talked about hands?”

“Oh yes,” replied Zoe, sounding almost relieved. Tim saw her walk around and sit next to Dana on the sofa. She was still holding the formidable strap, and her cheeks were reddened from the exertion of his punishment so far. She looked quite beautiful, Tim thought. “OK Tim, stand up please,” she said firmly.

Tim froze. He felt vulnerable, exposed, nearly naked, and at the moment the chair was the closest thing he had to safety. He gripped the lip of the seat firmly.

“Oh now you can hold onto the seat of the chair can you Tim?”  Then Zoe’s tone turned from gentle mockery to strict instruction: “STAND UP NOW.”

Tim gulped down some air. He stood gingerly, covering himself with his hands.

“Kneel in front of the chair, facing me, with your hands on your head,” Zoe ordered.

Tim looked helplessly from his wife to Dana, then back to his wife. Both women were meeting his gaze squarely. Tim’s head was a mess of conflicting emotions. Yes he had fantasized about being in this situation, but this wasn’t anything like a fantasy. In the past he had always been in control of his own punishments, telling Zoe what to do and say. Being bossy and selfish, he realized. He felt like a fraud. Always claiming to want Zoe to be in control, but really trying to take control himself. Well he wasn’t in control now, and it wasn’t fun at all. But he did deserve it, he knew. He could see how much of a bully he’d been in those situations, and he felt ashamed. The shame of this evening should be the least of his worries.

Meekly he shuffled forwards, his jeans and underwear dragging at his ankles.  He knelt in front of the two women, and placed both his hands on top of his head. Raising his hands hitched his t-shirt up so that the hem was level with his belly button – there was nowhere to hide.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dana, but he did meet Zoe’s gaze. With reddening eyes he said “I’m sorry,” again.

Zoe ignored this apology, and looked down at the strap in her hand. “Hold out your right hand, Tim, with your palm facing upwards.”

Tim was beyond objecting by this point. He loved Zoe utterly, and could never question her right to do this. He also trusted her implicitly, and knew that whatever punishment she chose to administer would be fair and loving. For all his physical discomfort, he felt emotionally safe. He extended his right hand, keeping his left on his head, and flattened his palm.

Zoe flipped the strap over her shoulder, she brought it down smartly across Tim’s palm. It cracked like a gunshot. Tim made a fist as the pain fired up his arm. But he kept his hand forward, and after a second unclenched his fist. Zoe had maintained eye-contact throughout the stroke, and Tim felt compelled to submit to his punishment completely. Without looking away, Zoe delivered two more sharp strokes to Tim’s right palm.

“Other hand please Tim,” Zoe said. Tim obeyed, and received three terrifying and painful strokes on the palm of his left hand. He didn’t need to see his glowing red palm to know how effective they had been. As Zoe delivered the strokes, Tim thought he detected a hint of remorse her eyes. She couldn’t be enjoying this really, he thought. He suddenly had an image, of two people engaged in a ritual – neither getting any real pleasure from it, but both aware of its utter necessity. 

“OK, let’s see if we can get through those first ten licks,” said Zoe. “Back on your feet and over the back of the chair. And you can step out of those jeans and undies – you’re not going to be needing them for the rest of this evening. Shoes and socks off too, please.”

Tim obeyed. He stood, shuffling off his sneakers and stepping out of his bunched clothes. 

“You can fold them neatly and put them on the side table,” Zoe said kindly. 

Tim knelt and picked up his jeans. He shook them out and folded them neatly, placing his white jersey underwear on top. He carried them past Dana and placed them on the side table. Remembering his socks, he bent awkwardly to slip them off one at a time, before adding them to the pile.

“And you can bend over facing the other way this time, Tim,” she added. “I still want your hands flat on the seat, but I think Dana deserves to have a better view of your naughty butt.”

Tim didn’t even try to cover his modesty as he walked back to the chair, turned to face away from the two women, and bent over. A moment later he heard movement behind him. The anticipation was agonizing; it was almost worse than the actual punishment. 

Almost. The first of the ten strokes landed across his butt with a heavy, thudding crack. Then the second, and the third. After each stroke, the strap followed through, sliding across his red tender ass – it felt as though his skin was being stripped off a layer at a time. At the sixth stroke, he let out a gasping sob. He couldn’t see behind him, but if this provoked any sympathy in Zoe, she didn’t let it affect her right arm.  The last four strokes fell as hard as the first six, striping his butt and the top of his thighs a bright, livid scarlet. And by the time the tenth stroke fell, he was crying freely.

He could hear Zoe behind him, her breathing heavy from her effort. His mind was clearer now, his confusion and defiance scoured clean by the fire in his bottom and legs. He stayed still, not wanting to risk a repeat performance by moving before he was told to.

There was a long pause. “What was next?” he heard Zoe ask quietly.

“Well that took a bit longer than expected didn’t it.” That was Dana’s cool voice. “But I think he’s getting the idea now,” she continued. “I suggest we skip straight to the brush.”

Tim was actually relieved to hear this. He’d known there would probably be more to come, but he was at least on familiar territory with the hairbrush. Zoe had used her square, flat-backed plastic hairbrush to spank him in the past, and while it hurt more than her hand it wasn’t really all that painful. Certainly nothing like the agony of the strap she had just wielded.

“In the same position?”

“I think you can put him over your knee and really teach him a lesson actually, don’t you,” Dana responded.

“Stand up please Tim,” Zoe said.

Tim was happy to be back into a slightly more familiar routine. He stood and turned around, ready to lay across his wife’s lap. As soon as he did, his heart sank into his bare feet. Dana’s bag was open, and she had handed Zoe the ‘brush’. This was not his wife’s small plastic-backed hairbrush. In her hands, Zoe now held a wooden bathbrush. It was probably a foot and a half long, and made of heavy-looking wood almost an inch thick. It had a long tapered handle which opened out to an oval head about five inches long and three wide. One side of the head was covered with stiff bristles, betraying the brush’s intended purpose. It was the other side Tim was more worried about – a pancake-flat wooden surface, once polished but now worn, presumably through firm application to naughty bottoms. Like his.

Zoe weighed the brush in her hand, swatting it a few times against her left palm. From the way it moved, Tim could tell it was heavy. He couldn’t imagine what it might feel like thudding into his already sore, and naked ass, but he suspected he was about to find out.

Zoe walked towards him. She clicked her fingers and pointed to her left. Tim stepped to one side, and Zoe turned and sat in the dining chair, straightening her skirt. She looked up to her right, fixing Tim in the eye and clicked her fingers again, this time pointing at her lap. Tim knew what this meant, but hesitated.

Get over my knee young man,” said Zoe sternly, and without giving him time to comply, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards and across her. Tim tripped on Zoe’s thigh, and he fell forwards quickly, putting both hands out to stop himself on the floor. He landed in what he imagined would be the ideal position for Zoe to administer the awful-looking wooden bathbrush: hands and feet on the floor, and bottom over her lap, pointing skyward.

He felt Zoe’s left hand settle into the small of his back. His t-shirt was bunched up around his armpits, leaving him completely naked from the chest down. She gently rubbed his lower back as she spoke: “Tim I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I know it’s your birthday, and that you were expecting something quite different tonight. But I suppose this is a different sort of birthday present – one that I hope will put an end to some of the uncomfortable tensions and expectations that have been putting a strain on things. Do you agree that after tonight we can move forward in a positive way, and that perhaps you’ll have a different understanding of what getting a spanking means?”

“Yes maam,” Tim replied.

“Good,” said Zoe. “Good boy.” Then without hesitating she raised the bathbrush, and with the full weight of her arm she swatted Tim’s right butt cheek. The head of the brush splatted into the fleshiest part of Tim’s buttock with a heavy thud. Tim cried out in pain. It was like being hit in the ass by a car. The weight of the brush seemed to drive deep into flesh and muscle, and with his cheeks still tender from the strap, the pain was unbearable. Zoe raised the brush again, this time targeting the side of Tim’s ass nearest to her, and again driving home the blow with full force.  This was only two swats, and already Tim was wondering how he would be able to take it, when he heard Dana’s voice.

“Zoe if you use your full weight every time your arm will get tired really quickly,” she instructed. “We want you to be able to keep this up for a good ten minutes. So I want you to try to use the weight of the brush itself.  Hold it closer to the end – that’s it – and then you can flick.  Don’t worry, it will sting just as much.”

“Right, I see,” said Zoe, and tried a couple of swats tentatively – one on each cheek.

“That’s it,” said Dana encouragingly. “Now try to build up a rhythm.”

Zoe did exactly that, flicking the brush in quick, hard swats on each of Tim’s butt cheeks in turn. The first few were almost bearable, but as the unrelenting staccato of Zoe’s strokes continued, the pain in Tim’s butt grew and grew to intolerable levels. It was a pain that crowded Tim’s head, shutting out all other thoughts. He just wanted it to stop. Zoe peppered Tim’s entire bottom and upper thighs with sharp swats. At one point, after she had delivered half a dozen stinging strokes in a row to the same point on the crease of Tim’s right butt cheek, he swung his right hand back to try and stop her. Without breaking her rhythm, Zoe effortlessly caught it in her left, and pinned it firmly in the small of his back. He was now pressed harder into her lap. More helpless than before, he could do nothing but cry as the torrent of spanks continued to make him feel as contrite as he ever had.

After what seemed like an age, and uncountably many swats with the brush, Zoe stopped. He could hear her breathing heavily, and could feel the warmth of her hand, which still pinned his in place. His bottom was on fire. He’d never imagined a spanking could be this painful, and coupled with the humiliation of having the whole thing witnessed by a complete stranger, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to make sure that he wouldn’t find himself in this position again any time soon.

“Up please, Tim, and get your naughty red butt straight back in the corner, kneeling on the ground and with your hands back on your head,” Zoe instructed.

Tim awkwardly maneuvered himself off his wife’s lap. He sort of fell in a heap on the floor, his t-shirt bunched and his bottom a dozen different shades of red and purple. As he struggled to his feet he noticed Dana. She hadn’t moved from her position on the couch all evening, and she was still smiling at him. She took another sip from her cup of coffee.

Tim walked quickly to the corner. His eyes were red, and his nose was running slightly from his crying. He no longer cared who saw what; he simply wanted to obey Zoe’s instructions to the letter. He wanted this punishment over sooner rather than later. He kneeled, linked his hands behind his head, and breathed out for what seemed like the first time in an hour.

“Well done Zoe,” he heard Dana say behind him. “That was excellent. You really took everything on board. I think you’re a natural.”

He heard Zoe laugh before replying, “thank you Dana. This has been a bit of a revelation. I never thought that I really wanted to make spankings real, or about real things. I always thought that was just playing into his hands, and that he was just being more of a brat by asking me to. But he really seemed to be getting the message. And he really seemed not to be enjoying himself. I wonder if it will actually make any difference?”

“Oh I think it probably will,” Dana said. “But just in case, I’m going to leave these with you. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use if you have to.”

Tim knew exactly what ‘these’ were. Kneeling in the corner, with his incredibly sore bottom on display and tears of shame still in his eyes he couldn’t imagine behaving in a way that would force Zoe to repeat this evening’s punishment. But he knew that it would happen; that his pouty and childish tendencies were still there. He understood them better now, which was probably the first step to being a better, more generous, more thoughtful husband. But it would be a longer journey than one evening, and when he slipped up along the way he knew he would find himself back over his wife’s knee, or bent over a dining chair, as she lit a fire in his ass once again. He resolved to make that as rare an occurrence as possible.

He heard Dana picking up her bag, and finishing the last of her coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zoe open the front door. She hugged Dana, and thanked her again, before seeing her out, and closing and locking the door. Tim was suddenly more nervous than he had been at any point in the evening so far. What was going to happen next? As a couple, they had no vocabulary for this moment – a moment where dynamics were beginning to shift, and where games had blurred into reality. No script.

He was tumbling these thoughts in his mind – trying to work out how to deal with the potential awkwardness of the next few moments, when he felt Zoe’s hand touch his arm, more softly she had all evening.

“Turn around Tim,” she said. Her voice was warm, asking more than instructing. 

Tim turned and looked at his wife. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but he knew he didn’t need to. His tensions melted away, and a fresh wave of tears surged in him. He instantly hugged Zoe, burying his head in her shoulder.

She wrapped both her arms around him and held him tightly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, quietly.

*****



Note:  Every contest, I receive a few entries which I am unable (read:unwilling) to publish. This is always due to content which I have specifically outlined in the contest guidelines as being unacceptable. It pains me a bit to know that a few of you spend a lot of time, energy, and imagination writing these stories which I then cannot publish because you haven’t heeded these simple requests relating to content. 
Yes, it is possible for me to edit your stories, and I sometimes do, but in many instances doing so would simply destroy the narrative and make the remaining pieces impossible to follow. (Also, keep in mind that it is impossible to win the ‘prize’ if I cannot publish your work.)
In the future, please do us all a great favor and stick to the rules…I would love to share each and every submission.


– Dana

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

Fantasy and Desire, Part One: F/M Spanking Fiction



Readers,


Here is a sexy little spanking story from one of my wonderful playmates. I am hoping to be able to share much more of his writing in future. Enjoy!


– Dana




Fantasy and Desire, Part One:


Isabella couldn’t believe her eyes at first. Her girlfriend Melissa and she had been friends forever and as such, these comfortable after work wine socials had been going on every Friday evening since college.  When she and Ernie got together and became lovers she never really saw any reason for them to stop.  In fact, Melissa and she both thought Ernie’s presence to their little Friday ritual added to things and he really seemed to enjoy being one of the girls. But tonight she noticed Ernie’s attention really seemed to be drawn to Melissa’s legs, he just could not keep his eyes off them.  Certainly she could understand why. Melissa was coyly wearing a very short red skirt, showing not only a lot of her long sexy legs, but the lacy tops of her stockings and the milky cream white of her smooth thighs were showing as well. Worse she seemed to show more of her legs as each glass of wine worked its relaxing magic. That, among other visual glimpse we won’t mention.  



 Isabella also understood Ernie had always been attracted to sexy legs. It was the one thing that had first drawn them together and Ernie had often mentioned how he could not keep from getting turned on whenever he saw her legs crossed, in nylons wearing one of her short skirts.  Yes, and she had certainly used his fascination to her advantage more than once. She had noticed how much more attentive his lovemaking was when she had her nylons and garters on. So, seeing his looking at Melissa’s legs, as she exposed herself, really was not surprising, What was surprising was how she, was reacting to it. First, was her surprising twinge of jealousy, she had never thought of herself as the jealous type? Not her, she was sexually uninhibited but here she was actually a little angry by his attention to Melissa’s legs. He was supposed to be looking at her legs. Secondly, *** as she watched him looking, kind of like a voyeur seeing something she wasn’t supposed to. Both of these feeling surprised her and she made a mental note that as soon as Melissa left this evening, Ernie would have some explaining to do and some serious lovemaking to attend to. She was getting turned on. Both by all she was seeing and the thoughts going through her mind as the evening wore on.
Finally Melissa left and Isabella and Ernie were cleaning up when she thought it time to bring things up. “So, I noticed you looking at Melissa’s legs this evening, did you find them attractive?” She asked.  Ernie looked up and quickly averted his eyes, a sure sign he was guilty. “So?” She persisted. “Well, yeah, sort of.” He said. “Sort of?” she asked. “What kind of answer is that?” “You couldn’t keep your eyes off her legs all night.”  She went on. “I thought you liked my legs”. She pouted. “Oh Baby” Ernie cooed. “Of course I like your legs, you stole my heart showing off those sexy legs of yours” he went on. “And you know I would do anything to keep those silky smooth legs and your beautiful self in my life”. “Melissa was just being a bit flirty tonight and really… how could I not look?” Ernie grinned that Cheshire cat grin. “Even you have to admit she has great looking legs.”

“Anything?”  Isabella asked. “What?” Ernie responded.  “You just said you would do anything to keep me and my legs in your life.”  “Did you really mean that?” She asked him. “Really anything or were you just saying that?”  Ernie looked at this sexy little vixen and knew she was leading him some where, but he also knew this woman was the sexiest, most uninhibited woman he had ever met and he would let her take him anywhere a sexual adventure might be in the offing. “Really Honey anything, if it meant keeping you happy and taking care of me.” Ernie said. She looked at him very coyly saying ‘we’ll see’ as she invited him to meet her in the bedroom in 10 minutes, not a moment before. As Ernie waited he couldn’t help but let his mind run in a million directions. Isabella was not only beautiful, she was the sexiest creature he had ever known and he knew her kinky little mind had no bounds ***.
.He had never known a woman who had such complete mastery and control of her sexuality and there was nothing she wasn’t comfortable with. She had certainly taken him on more sexual adventures in their short time together than all the other women he had ever met, combined. And even though some were a bit strange to his way of thinking originally, each in the end had been exciting and sensually engaging. So no matter what she had planned he could only look forward to it with excitement and a minimal amount of trepidation. So pouring them each a glass of wine, Ernie headed for the bedroom with anticipation of a night he would long remember…oh if he only knew.

Entering the bedroom he saw Isabella seated, skirt raised and legs crossed, showing her stocking tops and creamy white thighs, with her back to her dressing table and her oak hairbrush on her lap. “How nice, you brought me a glass of wine,” she noted. “Please bring it to me. You can set it on my dressing table?” She requested as he crossed to her.  As Ernie came to her, placing the wine on the table he toasted “To a memorable night.” Again, if he only knew, and as he drank from his glass, she had already moved ahead and was undoing his pants and pulling them down.  “Whoa” Ernie intoned. “You seem a bit eager?” he asked.  “Well yes.” She smiled back. “I am, but not for what you think my dear man.”  “What do you mean?” He asked beginning to think he was in for another something he had not figured on.  “Well I thought you might have guessed when you came in and saw me sitting here, legs crossed with this hairbrush on my lap.” She went on. “But then you often need to be led to things my dear, don’t you?”  Continuing on she said “You were quite naughty this evening…oh yes quite naughty”. “I saw you looking at Melissa’s legs all evening like a naughty little thirteen year old boy. You couldn’t keep from staring.” She said. “Fortunately Melissa was in one of her ‘it’s all about me’ moments, so of course she didn’t notice, but I certainly did and was not happy about it”.  “I’m sorry.” I said. “Oh are you? Are you really sorry?” she asked.  Looking at me with what could only be viewed as a dominating like look. “Are you sorry enough to admit how naughty you were and accept being punished for it?” “Are you that sorry”? She asked.  “Excuse me?” Ernie stuttered. “Punished?”  “Well of course punished.” She went on in a matter of fact manner. “What else would happen to a naughty boy?” “You simply must be taught a lesson you won’t soon forget and I intend to do just that.”  “Oh and just how do you plan to do that my dear Isabella?” He asked thinking they were playing another of her games. “What, it’s still not obvious?” She asked. “Well let me make it perfectly clear”. She continued. “It is my intention to next pull down your underwear like this, put you over my knee and give you a good sound bare bottom spanking, much like a naughty 13 year old would receive when they think they are too big for their britches, teaching you a lesson you will never forget.” 



And just like that the underwear came down and before he knew it she had pulled him to her side and quicker than he could react to, had him lying face down across her stocking clad lap staring at her lovely legs from a position he would never have imagined and what happened next, well I don’t really think it takes much imagination to see where Isabella, her hand and hairbrush intended to take him. Beginning with her hand she warmed his white little bottom a nice shade of pink, to bright red.  Spank after spank landing on his bare behind. Trying to keep his poise he gritted his teeth and tried to think only of the lovely stocking clad lap he found himself face down across. Finally after a 100 or so sound spanks Bella stopped. And Ernie started to rise. “Now just where do you think you’re going?” Isabella asked holding him down across her lap.  “Please Bella, I’ve learned my lesson, really I have.” Sounding quite like the naughty little boy he had behaved liked. “Really I have.”  Bella rubbed his red bottom with one hand, while picking up the hairbrush with the other. “I’m not quite sure you have my dear, but believe me once you feel the sting of my hairbrush, well then you will have learned”. “Yes, learned and will remember for quite some time”. She softly intoned. And with that the spanking began anew and with a much more rigorous application. Spank after spank, twenty thirty forty, he soon forgot to count, lost in the burning sting only a hairbrush can provide. Squirming, trying to avoid the burning spanks as they rained down, fighting back tears of embarrassment, finally the spanking was over, and she helped him up. As he rose from her lap, rubbing his very well spanked bottom like any naughty boy would, Ernie noticed something else he would never have guessed, he was far more wanton of his sexy woman than he could ever remember. He had to have her, and for her part, she too was already entwined with him, kissing him deeper and more fully. Had they wanted one another before the spanking, they needed one another now. Never had he wanted a woman so bad and not just any woman, no, he wanted this goddess in front of him, wrapped about him, who just moments earlier had spanked him like a very naughty little boy. And Isabella was kissing him with such passion and so, so hot. Before they knew it, they were in the bed and engulfed with a consuming passion neither had ever known. It was to say the least, a night unlike any other, filled with shuddering climaxes and wanton lips.  Was this all caused by a simple act of spanking? What or how, not important but if it were, it certainly bore repeating, at least that was what was going on in sweet Bella’s mind. Oh yes! If a trip over her knee would unlock this kind of passion, poor Ernie was in for quite a few spankings. As for Ernie, well, how many times the hairbrush landed, spanking his bottom a blistering red that evening, he could not keep count of. But one thing was for certain, if he ever looked at another Lady’s legs again, it certainly would be with the memory of this spanking fresh in his mind, that and a thorough scanning to insure that Isabella was not watching.  But would he allow another spanking, well if it led to the passion that evening had brought forward, well I think we all would.  Oh yes… I told you his beautiful Lady was quite unconventional.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Video: A Broken Heart for The VBB

Readers,


I am very pleased to be able to share this snippet of video with you, by request of the Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife.


The very first time I met the VBB, his WW left him in my care. He and I dealt with some serious issues on that one occasion, and he promised to change his behavior in the future.


All of our subsequent playtimes have included the Wonderful Wife – she and I ‘tag-teaming’ him – and all have been nothing but f-u-n.  Even though all of our play has been lighthearted, make no mistake…we play hard. Really hard.


This time was different, though. This time the Wonderful Wife, HoH, determined to request my assistance in dealing with some recent sneaky behavior on the part of the VBB. Of course, I accepted.


First, I count this couple among my most favored playmates, and would be hard-pressed to turn down an invitation from them, whatever the request.


Second (as I explained to the VBB), I am now invested in his process. I was frustrated and disappointed when hearing of his misbehavior and welcomed the opportunity to hold him accountable.


This is just a small part of Punishment Day…and very early on, as evidenced by the lack of damage to his bottom.


Enjoy (we did).


– Dana

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

F/M Spanking Stories: Fouettard’s Academy – Part Four : End of Term



Fouettard’s Academy: (4) End of term

The ‘boys’ gathered for session ten with mixed feelings. Not having to spend their Saturdays concentrating on their behaviour, and almost inevitably going home with a sore bottom, was, in many ways, welcome. However, they had actually become rather attached to Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane. Although they were strict, and employed what most people regarded as old-fashioned methods, there was something about them that commanded respect and admiration. The course had been enlightening. They had learned that habits and behaviour that previously they wouldn’t have given a second thought to was unacceptable to women, and it was somehow refreshing to encounter these two strong women who neither ignore their bad behaviour nor nagged them about it but confronted them in a clear and straightforward manner.

However, life had changed even more dramatically in the past week. The ‘wives’ session’ the previous Saturday meant that it wasn’t only on Saturdays that they had to answer for their actions, it was everyday! For two of them, Ernie Wilde and Oliver Dickens, this was especially so, and far from having to wait until the end of the session, they arrived at the Academy with a distinct consciousness of part of their anatomy (and not the part that normally drives mens’ thinking!).

Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane had been looking forward to the session all week, not so much because it was the end of term but more because they were keen to hear whether the work they had done with the wives had been productive. In some cases they were pretty confident but with others they wondered whether, back home in a one-to-one situation, the wives’ new-found assertiveness might have wavered. 

The early signs were good. Several of the men seemed considerably quieter and more reflective than usual, and the women sensed a mood of anxiety and compliance that they had not witnessed previously. As soon as everyone was assembled and settled Mrs Armstrong began. “I hope you’ve all had a good week. Ms Kane and I are looking forward to hearing your reports.”

No sooner had she started than Ernie Wilde raised his arm aloft. “Yes, Wilde, what is it?”

“Please Ma’am, I was just wondering, if matters… how shall I say… have been dealt with at home, do we still need to report them to you? I mean, it wouldn’t be very fair for us to be punished twice.”

Knowing smiles spread across the faces of the two women. Mrs Armstrong turned to her colleague. “Ms Kane, what do you think? Would it be fair for us to punish a naughty boy who’s already been punished?”


Of course they had already considered this issue as part of their preparation for the session. “Well, Mrs Armstrong, it seems to me it very much depends on the behaviour in question and whether we consider the punishment has been sufficient.”







“I have a good idea why you’re asking that question, Wilde,” said Mrs Armstrong. “I’ve just read a very interesting report from your wife. So let’s start with you and see if your version of events tallies.”

The boy stood up and began his account. “Caroline told me last weekend that from now on she will be keeping a tally of everything I do wrong and on Friday evenings it will be payback time. I didn’t realise she would be including even the tiniest thing wrong, like when I didn’t answer her quickly enough. On Tuesday I left some dirty socks on the bedroom floor, and she also told me to run the dishwasher next morning, which I forgot to do. On Wednesday she said she’d noticed that the car was very dirty and that I’d been negligent to let it get so bad. On Thursday there was…. oh, I can’t remember now. Really, Ma’am it’s been tough going. She’s picked on every little thing.” Wilde paused, but if he thought he was going to get a sympathetic word from Mrs Armstrong he was mistaken.

“Probably not before time unless I’m very much mistaken, which is not something I’m in the habit of being. As I’ve told you repeatedly over the past ten weeks, you boys need to smarten up your act. However, Wilde, you’ve not finished the story. What happened on Friday?” 

Mrs Armstrong knew only too well what had happened on Friday but she wanted to hear it from Wilde himself.

“Er… well Ma’am, I got home from work as usual, and I had decided that I should say sorry for my failings during the week, so I bought her a really huge bunch of flowers. But instead of being pleased – well, actually she did say they were nice but she then went on to say that if I thought I could bribe her by buying flowers I’d better think again. However, she said that it was good that I’d bought her a present as she had bought one for me and that she’d give it to me later. We had dinner and watched some television. Then, suddenly, she turned off the programme saying it was time for my present and that she’d be back in a moment.  A couple of minutes later, sure enough, she was back carrying a parcel, all tied up with ribbons. She gave it to me and told me to open it. Of course I was intrigued and…”. 

His words were cut short by Mrs Armstrong. “At this point you had no idea what was in the parcel, is that correct, Wilde?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I had no idea. It was quite a big box, about this long.” He stretched his hands out wide. “When I got the box open there was a load of newspaper and filling inside and Caroline told me to search. Suddenly I felt something hard and pulled it out. It was a paddle, like one of the ones you and Ms Kane have here. I was still getting over the shock of that when my wife said to keep searching, and right at the bottom of the box there was a cane. Caroline then said to me that although they were for me, it was also a present for herself, because she would enjoy using them. And then she told me to pass them to her.”

“Rather a shock for you, eh, Wilde?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“This is a really interesting story, Wilde, please do continue.” Mrs Armstrong had a smile on her face as she spoke. She was enjoying seeing the boy’s discomfort as he recounted his experience.

“Well, Ma’am, she reminded me of what she’d said about Friday being payback time and that she’d been dying to use the things since they’d arrived the previous day. She told me she’d ordered them online as soon as she got home last Saturday, and that the company had fulfilled its stated three to five days delivery schedule. She then said that even though my behaviour hadn’t been that bad, as the implements were new she needed to give them a thorough try-out, so I’d be getting an extended spanking and caning. She told me to undress, moved a chair into the centre of the room and sat down, then told me to get over her lap. She told me I’d better get used to being over her lap because it was likely I’d find myself there every Friday evening. And then she started, whacking my butt with the paddle, which hurt like blazes. I’d never realised she was quite so strong. How long that went on I’m not sure, it seemed like ages to me, but finally she stopped and told me to stand up.” 

“But that was not the end of the proceedings, was it, Wilde? Do carry on,” Mrs Armstrong interjected.

“Well, Ma’am, I was standing there rubbing my butt, thankful it was over, but Caroline went and picked up the cane and was making swishing noises with it. She said she thought it would do nicely, and ordered me to bend over with my hands flat on the chair. And then she gave me a dozen vicious swats, which stung something rotten.”

“Are you sure it was a dozen, Wilde? Did you keep count?” Mrs Armstrong asked.

“Yes, Ma’am, she told me to count each stroke aloud.”

“Well, well,” declared Mrs Armstrong, “there was me sitting at home yesterday evening, relaxing and quietly reading a book, while over in your house all this excitement was happening. What a lucky boy you are to have such a caring and responsible wife!”

Wilde, for once, remained silent, wanting, but not daring, to disagree with Mrs Armstrong, who continued speaking.

“In the circumstances it sounds as though you have been well recompensed for your behaviour this week and that, for once, you are not in need of my special measures. What do you think Ms Kane?”

“It certainly sounds so to me, Mrs Armstrong,” Ms Kane replied, “but perhaps to be sure we should just check on the state of Wilde’s backside, to make sure that he hasn’t been exaggerating.”

“An excellent idea,” Mrs Armstrong declared, “come out here, Wilde, and bare your bottom for us all to see.”

Reluctantly, Ernie Wilde made his way to the front and did as Mrs Armstrong had instructed, so that the results of the previous evening were on show not only to the two women but also to his fellow students.

“Most impressive,” Mrs Armstrong declared.

“I agree,” said Ms Kane, “it is very clear, Wilde, that your wife is not only caring but also very skilled.”

The women’s approval was justified. Not only was the whole of Wilde’s bottom a very deep shade of pinkish red, it was also bearing a mass of distinctive tramline marks left by the cane. It was clear that Mrs Wilde had been as proficient dealing with her husband as she had been when practising at the previous week’s session.

“Very well, Wilde, pull your trousers up and go and sit down … carefully, I suggest, given the state of you.” Mrs Armstrong could be severe, but she had a kind side too! “We shall not be requiring you to stay behind this evening.”

Attention turned to Dickens. Mrs Dickens was another of the wives who had impressed Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane, and her report had stated that she had indeed put her new-found spanking skills into practice, and clearly had listened carefully to Ms Kane’s talk about household implements. But it was important to hear her husband’s side of the story.

Dickens, who could be hard going at times, recounted the events of the week in detail. It transpired that Mrs Dickens had adopted a rather different approach to Mrs Wilde. Instead of making a note of transgressions and dealing with them on a weekly basis, she had decided on an ‘instant justice’ approach. So it was that on the previous Sunday when Oliver Dickens had tried to evade helping with the chores that were a part of his wife’s household routine, he found himself over Anne’s knee for a sound spanking. On Tuesday he had carelessly let a pan of milk boil over and she had spanked him with a wooden spoon, and on Wednesday, when he left his clothes lying all over the bedroom, she had reached for her wooden-backed hairbrush. On Thursday and Friday he had redoubled his efforts and had managed to avoid further inflictions on his backside.

“It seems to me that your wife’s attentions are having a very beneficial effect,” Ms Kane commented.

“Yes Ma’am,” Dickens agreed ruefully.

“Well, I shall be contacting her and urging her to keep up the good work. I shall also inform her that, should she need any assistance in correcting you, she can arrange for you to attend one of the private sessions that I arrange for naughty boys. Is that clear?”

“Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

Ms Kane was not so sure, but for now she gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Oh, and that goes for the rest of you boys as well,” she added, addressing the class.

“Right, Mr Potter, I think we’ll hear from you next,” Mrs Armstrong declared authoritatively. Henry Potter and his fiancée Joanne Rowley were the couple about whom Mrs Armstrong was most concerned. The fact that they did not live together permanently meant that Potter had the advantage of some additional leeway, and some of the behaviour that had been reported over the term had placed him in need of considerable correction. Moreover, there was no guarantee that the full extent of any misbehaviour had been reported. Additionally, Mrs Armstrong was concerned whether Joanne was a strong enough character to control him in the way that was needed.

“Joanne and I had a long talk last Saturday evening,” he began. “She said the session last week had been quite an eye-opener, and that she had realised she needed to be more assertive. She asked me how I felt about that and I said I wasn’t sure, that I could see good and bad aspects to it. We agreed we’d just have to see how things are once we’re married. Then when I saw her during the week she said she’d thought some more, and that she now thought we needed to sort this out now rather than waiting ‘til we’re married when it’s kind of too late. Then she gave me an ultimatum, that if I didn’t agree to her being in charge then she would break off our engagement. That was a shock to me and not something I wanted to happen, so after we’d talked some more, I agreed to give it go on that basis. Anyway, the most important thing is that her ultimatum really made me think about myself, and I intend to try my best to behave in the right way.”

The gist of Potter’s statement coincided almost exactly with the report that Mrs Armstrong had received from Joanne. Listening to him, she felt that his words and intentions were sincere.

“Well now, I think that is cause for some celebration,” she said. “You will all remember that when you came to Fouettard’s I told you that my sole aim is the help you have better lives and better relationships. What you have said sounds to me as though the prospects are very positive for you and the future Mrs Potter. I am also delighted to hear that your fiancée has the good sense to sort out the nature of your relationship now, something for which I shall congratulate her. Similar to what Ms Kane said to you earlier, I shall tell her that I too am available to support her if you give her any trouble. But for now I wish you well.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” Potter replied. In truth he was still somewhat taken aback by his experience at the Academy and the change in his relationship with his fiancée, but deep down he had a sense that what Mrs Armstrong, Ms Kane, and now Joanne too were demanding was in his best interests. Moreover, he had not enjoyed having his bottom warmed, and the threat of this happening at his fiancée’s hands was a strong incentive to improve his behaviour.

Ian Fleming was the next to report. As had been the case for several of the boys, he and his wife Penny had held a discussion the previous Saturday evening following the wives’ session. Except that in Fleming’s case it had been less of a discussion and more of an argument. At one point he had told her that if she thought he was going to let her ever spank him she had another think coming, a statement that really lit the blue touch paper.
The argument had continued, with Penny demanding an apology and Fleming refusing to give it, and as a result they had slept in separate rooms. 

However, he said, by the next morning he had calmed down, had thought about things more, and had duly given his wife an apology, which she had accepted. However, she had told him that an apology was not sufficient, and had ordered him to take off his belt, which she had then used to give him a thrashing for his behaviour. 

“And how have things been since then?” Mrs Armstrong enquired.

“As far as I’m concerned that’s the end of it,” said Fleming. “I lost, she won, end of story.”

“Yes and no,” replied Mrs Armstrong, a frown on her face. “You are right that once you have been punished for your misdeeds that is the end of that particular matter. However, I detect from your attitude that you are neither truly contrite, nor are you accepting your wife’s authority. In my view you are in need of considerable further attitude adjustment training. If the next term at Fouettard’s was not already fully booked I would be discussing with your wife about you returning. As it is, I shall have to leave it to Mrs Fleming to persevere with you. Meanwhile, you will stay behind at the end of this session, and I warn you now that I am disposed to treat you extremely harshly.”

“But Ma’am,” Fleming protested, “I …..”

His words were abruptly curtailed by Mrs Armstrong. “Be quiet, Fleming,” she rapped; “there are no buts. You have heard my decision, which is not open to question. It is time you accepted that when I or Ms Kane or your wife make a decision, we are not asking your opinion, we are telling you how it is.”

She paused, and suddenly the anger on her face changed briefly to a wry smile. “Actually, Fleming, there is one butt, yours, and by the time I’ve finished with you, you will be acutely conscious of it. Now we must move on.”

Next to be considered was Joe Austen. Events for him had taken a rather different direction about which, on balance, he was reasonably happy. He recounted how, later the previous Saturday evening, his wife, Emma, had initiated a discussion about the events of the day, saying how much she had enjoyed it, and that she had never realised that spanking could be so enjoyable. Joe had retorted that it might have been enjoyable for her but his bottom was still sore. “Perhaps you should let me inspect it,” Emma had said but had then stated that she could best undertake this task if he was draped over her lap. Despite Joe’s protests, Emma had insisted. She then concluded that although there was a touch of pink, a deeper shade of pink would be much more attractive, and to Joe’s chagrin had proceeded to spank him again. However, his regret at her new source of pleasure was eased when, satisfied with her work, Emma had instructed him to carry her to the bedroom, where events much more to his liking had ensued.

“The same thing happened again during the week, so it seems that in order to get my needs satisfied I have to let her spank me,” he said. 

“It sounds to me as though you are still thinking about yourself, Austen,” said Ms Kane matter-of-factly. “Your wife’s pleasure should always be given priority and should be uppermost in your mind. And I don’t much like this ‘let her spank me’ nonsense. If your wife decides you need a spanking then that decision is final, irrespective of what you think or want.”

Joe Austen then made a fateful mistake. “Indeed so, Ma’am, but I’ve realised that the best way of getting what I want is to do things that annoy her, so that she can then enjoy giving me a spanking, and then, well, you know….” His voice trailed off without finishing the sentence.

Almost as soon as he’d spoken he realised his mistake, and wished he’d kept his thoughts to himself.

Ms Kane was incensed. “Austen, that is selfish and appalling, and I’m sure your wife will have the good sense to very quickly see through your devious scheme. I shall certainly be speaking with her to advise a strategy that circumvents it. Meanwhile, you will be punished for your extremely naughty idea. I think a good caning is the least you deserve, and don’t imagine for one second that I will be offering you any favours afterwards.”

“Quite preposterous,” Mrs Armstrong added. “Sometimes I despair of you boys. Ms Kane was quite right to use the word devious. I really wonder if you have learned anything in your time here, Austen, which if I recall correctly was what I said to you at the end of last time and why you’ve been back here for further training. As with Fleming, I cannot accommodate you next term and must leave matters to your wife, which I am confident she is now very capable of doing. Meanwhile, you also will stay behind at the end of this session.”  

So, lastly, the honour (if such it was) of making the final report of the term went to Wordsworth, fittingly perhaps because he was the only boy in the history of Fouettard’s to be enrolled for three terms. And it was a finale that contained quite a shock for everyone, except perhaps – to a degree – Mrs Armstrong. 

Wordsworth stood up. Ignoring the brief report notes he had written he addressed Mrs Armstrong, requesting her indulgence as he wanted to make a statement rather than give a report on his behaviour. Heads turned towards him in surprise.

“The fact is, Ma’am, I want to thank you and Ms Kane for achieving what I have been unable to do over many years. As a result of your instruction last Saturday my wife has now agreed to spank me on a regular basis. Far from regretting that, as most of my fellow students appear to do, it is something I welcome. I am what is commonly known as a spanko. Some may find that strange, but it is a desire I have harboured for much of my life. My initial enrolment at Fouettard’s was something I engineered. My wife agreed to it as a compromise between my desire and her reluctance to engage in it herself. I have to admit that my bad behaviour was deliberate, in order to be able to continue here. So all I really wish to say is to thank both of you, Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane, for your wonderful attention to my needs, and most of all for convincing my wife.”

Several of the other students looked at him in amazement. Yes, they had come to realise the benefits of the Academy’s straightforward, no-nonsense approach but to actually enjoy the painful punishments this included was outside their frame of reference.

Ms Kane smiled gently, shaking her head with a mixture of surprise and appreciation. “I must congratulate you, Wordsworth, on your acting ability. How you have kept up this pretence of being a genuinely naughty boy I’m not sure. I also want to congratulate you on your courage in making this statement. It is, of course, a limited environment, but to come out as you have is not something everyone is able to do. I welcome you to the world of spankos, to use your word. Whilst my prime objective in being here with Mrs Armstrong is to assist in the training that she offers, punishing naughty boys does give me great pleasure. Furthermore, I am genuinely pleased for you that you and your wife can now incorporate these activities in your marriage, and I am very confident that this will enhance your relationship.”

Mrs Armstrong then spoke. “Ms Kane has said most of what needs to be said, Wordsworth. I will admit that over the time you have been here I have had my doubts about you. Your persistent and stubborn refusal to learn led me at times to wonder if you actually enjoyed being punished, and you have made it clear that was indeed the case. Part of me is mindful to punish you here today for your dishonesty until now, but on balance it is better that I leave this to your wife.”

After a final short lecture from Mrs Armstrong, four of the boys – Wordsworth, Dickens, Wilde and Potter – were allowed to leave, while, as required, Fleming and Austen stayed behind to face the wrath of their tutors. In the circumstances, given it was the final session and there were only two boys to punish, they were each treated to a session with both women. Ms Kane stood on one side with a thick, two-tailed leather strap, while Mrs Armstrong was on the other with one of her whippiest canes. The two women alternated, one stroke each at a time, until Fleming had taken twenty-four from each of them. Austen then took his place and received the same treatment. In themselves the strapping and caning were severe punishments, but dealing alternately with the differing sensations of leather and rattan increased the boys’ ordeal. By the time it was over they were both very grateful that they would not be returning to Fouettard’s, at least in the foreseeable future.

Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane reflected on the session. What they had heard had convinced them even more strongly that the wives’ session the previous week had been an inspired idea. They also agreed that there was at least an even chance that they had not heard the last of Dickens; whilst they did not doubt his wife’s ability or commitment to the cause, he was exactly the sort of boy who was likely to require some additional private tuition at the hands of a professional expert. For different reasons, there was a fair chance of Wordsworth seeking their further attention. It seemed the boy had an insatiable appetite that his wife might not be able to satisfy; if so, they would be glad to help out. Meanwhile, the transformation of Potter and his fiancée gave them particular satisfaction; given the starting point, the establishment of domestic discipline within their relationship was remarkable. 

“How good it is to be able to make the world a better and happier place, Dana,” said Julia.

And the two women knew this was something they would go on doing long into the future. 

The end. 




This marks the end of UK Laureate’s ‘Fouettard’s Academy’ – a wonderfully detailed and entertaining F/M Spanking Story in four parts.


If you haven’t already, please take a moment to attach a thank-you to UKL in the comment box, as he’s shown such generosity in sharing his writing talent and imagination with us all, again and again.  


(And if you’re still having trouble commenting, try using the Google Chrome browser…it seems to work fine with the Blogger format.)




– Dana


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

Discipline Academy Video, starring Angel (and Dana Kane)



Readers,


Since you’ve had the opportunity to read some of Angel’s thoughts on D/S, spanking, and our time together, I thought you may like to see her (us, actually) in action. After our workday, I could think of no better way to blow off some steam than to film a quick scene for our mutual friends at Discipline Academy. While much of their content is heavy BDSM-themed, we thought it would be fun to do something a bit different…something more my style. Angel, in her wonderful way, was up for just about anything, so I decided to take the opportunity to address a little problem of hers – holding still.


Angel is cute as a button, sweet as she can possibly be, and tough as nails. She proves it in the video we made for Discipline Academy, titled ‘Endurance Challenge’.


Warning:
This is not typical spanko-style video, nor is it anything like the videos which I make here, at home.
Angel and I play out a corporal punishment and endurance scene, which includes somewhat heavy use of cane, leather and rubber implements on the buttocks, thighs, and other areas…as well as some relatively intense verbal and psychological manipulation. While I do not delve into anything disturbing, obscene, or severe…some viewers of my other videos may find this one rather, well…intense.


– Dana



You may preview/purchase the video, in three parts, here:

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

The VBB: Prepunishment Journal: The Final Installment



With his Punishment Day looming, I will let the VBB speak for himself…
– Dana




There always seems to be at least one statement, which Ms. Kane writes in her Emails that seems to leap off the screen and catches my attention. I am not sure if she purposely plans to use specific phrases or if they just happen to be what she is thinking at the time. It really does not matter because the result is the same; they catch my attention and inevitably cause my anxiety level to rise a good deal. Statements such as “We’ll deal with this behavior in short order,” “you will receive true discipline,” “You know that you’re in trouble,” “understand the necessity for seriousness.” While each statement alone elicits a feeling of apprehension, seeing them together creates a much deeper sense of dread. However, none of these statements either by themselves or as a whole produces in me the overwhelming feeling of panic as much as the words …“Punishment Day”… these two words cause a feeling of impending doom to well up in my stomach. The simple phrase caught me so off guard when I first read them that I lost my concentration as a growing numbness engulfed me. As I reread the dreaded words, the numbness gave way to a surge of adrenalin and I had to fight the urge to get up and run. Of course, there was no place to run and running would not have changed what Ms. Kane had written. 


“Punishment Day”…. these two words create an unthinkable epiphany of what awaits me during my upcoming session with Ms. Kane and my wife,  which is now duly designated as “Punishment Day”. There is nothing good about the name “Punishment Day,” the name itself invokes unsettling mental images of the impending doom, which awaits me. The words create an image of swelling black storm clouds gathering in the distance which darken the midday sky and sets ones soul trembling in fear. The term “Punishment Day” may not have elicited the same response if Ms. Kane had used it to label our first session together. There is some truth to James Gray’s statement “Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.” Before meeting Ms. Kane for the first time, my knowledge of her skills and abilities came solely from her blog and videos. My first hand ignorance of her expertise surely was blissful at the time. However after three sessions, whatever blissfulness I may have had before our first session is certainly long gone. This firsthand knowledge now makes the term “Punishment Day” much more menacing and creates such uneasiness in me that I have not been able to stop thinking about all the possibilities that “Punishment Day” invokes. I tried to explain to my wife how the term “Punishment Day” has so unnerved me, but her response is simply to tell me “You just need to trust that Dana and I know exactly what you can handle” Which I am sure was meant to make me feel a bit better. However, in reality, that really is the problem, they both know how much I can handle, and I certainly know what the both of them can dish out together. That is why the term “Punishment Day” conjures up such terrifying thoughts. 

            As if “Punishment Day” was not enough, Ms. Kane ended her Email with the proclamation “I’ll see you soon,” which only caused my sense of foreboding to deepen; It was then I had to fully  accept the fact that “Punishment Day” was coming whether I want it to or not. The words “I’ll see you soon” resonate deep within my consciousness and leaves me feeling completely powerless. I feel as though I’m trapped in a room with no way out and I so desperately want to find a way out of this room. Even if I can find a way out I am sure of one thing, standing in the way are two powerful and determined women patiently waiting for “Punishment Day” to arrive. In contrast to their poised self-confidence, I am trying everything in my power to maintain my composure. I wonder what would happen if I just throw myself at their mercy and plead for leniency. I think Ms. Kane would simply pick up the dreaded whippy cane and with a slight smile my wife would tell me once again, “Well I guess you should have thought about that before you decided to be sneaky and dishonest with me” and with that “Punishment Day” would begin…. I wonder if I have ever told them how much I hate the cane, especially that hideous white thin whippy fiberglass one.       
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Survey Results



With a current response count of 332, the What Makes Us Tick – And Tingle survey is a great way to investigate the many ways in which we spankos come together…and differ.


Forty-four percent of respondents said that they were rarely (or never) spanked at home, with the majority of those who WERE spanked at home receiving hand spankings and/or beltings as the chosen form of discipline. A full fourteen percent (about 44 respondents) said that they’d never really been disciplined prior to adulthood and have no idea why they’re into it now.
Also, over fifty respondents so far have said that they were play spanked by another boy/girl of their age.


I found the numbers for  ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ – a question about self-spanking to be particularly interesting:


I have never self-spanked, and have no interest in trying.                 19%
I have tried self-spanking but found it unsatisfying.                          38%
I self-spank occasionally, but only out of necessity.                          17%
I like self-spanking from time to time, and find it pleasurable.           14%
I often self-spank and thoroughly enjoy the sensation.                        6%




A whopping one hundred fifty-four (154) respondents, a full 46 percent, said that they’ve never managed to have a good cry during spanking, but are hopeful.
For those hopeful masses, five percent answered that they’d cried once during a spanking…and it was amazing.


66% of you like scolding  –  but no humiliation.
14% like it (verbally) rough.


A full half of all respondents said that, while they’d love to attend, there have been no spanking parties/gatherings for them. Twenty-seven percent have no interest in attending; and a few of you have been to nearly every party on the block.


I am particularly grateful for the mere 7% of female respondents, but cannot neglect the other 90+% who are male (70 percent over 40):
Thank you, gentlemen – once again – for reading, commenting, and sharing. It is my distinct pleasure, as always.


–  Dana

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