Spanking PSA : The State of Your Underpants

 

Didn’t your mother tell you to always wear clean underwear, in case you’re ever in an accident?

(Mine did, although I think it was a joke, and I never really understood why one would care about the state of one’s underpants in case of emergency anyway. But let’s move on.)

I’ll issue a little disclaimer here and state that this post is mostly for the fellas, as I’ve yet to encounter a situation with any of my female playmates where this conversation would be warranted. Call it a feminine consumer culture, vanity, or simply attention to detail, but ladies never need to be told the following :

“Those underwear are atrocious. You should be ashamed to even own them, much less wear them out of the house.”

In my capacity as Spanker of Many Fun Fellas, I’ve had cause to utter this statement on numerous occasions. But I haven’t.

Why?

Well, I’m not quite sure that Miss Manners covered the subject, and I cannot find a single ‘Dear Abby’ column which handles it, either. And while I’m happy to scold, fuss, and giggle at your discomfort, humiliation isn’t really my thing. I could never say :

“You filthy, stinky pig! Look at the state of your underpants – they’re disgusting. You’re disgusting. Go wash them in the toilet immediately…with your face” (or something. Told you I’m bad at this.)

I also haven’t been able to find a fun/funny way to do it, either…

“Say there, Mr. Cutie Pie, but these tighty-whities are no longer tight. Or white.”

If it were me, any approach that someone took which eventually led to them telling me that my panties were icky would result in immediate and immense mortification. I’d imagine that this would be the case with almost anyone, wouldn’t it?

So you see my conundrum. Continue to be too tactful and/or puritanical to say anything personally to those who need to do a little shopping, and suffer the sight of poor underpants held onto much too long…

…or post something silly and funny here and hope that EVERY MAN who reads this takes a moment today to sift through his drawers and do away with anything that could be mistaken for the Shroud of Turin.

 

With much love and sincere pleading,

The Girl Who Sees Your Underpants

‘Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party’

 

 ‘Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party’ is another really excellent F/M entry to the ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest . Enjoy!

–  Dana

 

 

Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party

by Richard

Jennifer and I have been married for over twenty years.  As time went on, our relationship evolved.  Jennifer became more dominant and I became submissive.  Eventually, we introduced spanking into our repertoire.  Most of our spanking sessions were “playful” and typically included sex.  However, on occasion, when my behavior hasn’t met Jennifer’s expectations, she has administered a punishment spanking.  These are severe and do make sitting uncomfortable for a day or so.  They have definitely modified my behavior.  Now, when she says jump, I jump.  Or suffer the consequences.

 

Every few weeks, the girls in the neighborhood get together for a “girls night in” party and the other night it was at our house.  Jennifer asked, which in our relationship means told me that she wanted me to be the waiter for the evening.  I said “there is a game on that night that I was looking forward to watching.”

 

“Too bad.  You will be our waiter and I expect you to be a good one.”

 

So, while my attitude for the evening wasn’t very good, I did what I was told.  I greeted the girls as they arrived, served them drinks, passed around snacks, and generally behaved as a good waiter.  In between serving, I just sat in the room and sulked because I couldn’t watch the game.  The girls just chatted about things that were of absolutely no interest to me.  I was totally bored.

 

And then something got my interest, the girls themselves.  There were eight all together and some of them were drop dead gorgeous.  Long suntan legs and short skirts that were riding up high on their thighs.  I am definitely a leg man.  My undoing.

 

I was looking across the room at Sue, a definite milf.  And after having a few drinks, her legs started to part.  I couldn’t help myself.  I looked up her skirt and stared at her blue panties,  I was mesmerized by the panties and what it would be like to roam inside them.  I was so engaged in my fantasy that I was totally oblivious to my surroundings.  That is until I heard Judy, the neighborhood bitch, yell “Richard!  What are you doing?  Are you looking up Sue’s skirt?  Shame on you.”

 

I was mortified.  “Ah.  Ah.  Ah.” I stammered.  But it was too late.  The room was silent.  And the red started at my neck and went up my entire face.  I was totally embarrassed and humiliated.  Jennifer, on the other hand, was furious.

 

“Richard!  Is that true?  Don’t deny it.  That red face and bulge in your pants tells the entire story.  How could you embarrass me in front of all my friends.  You will pay for this and I mean right now.  Girls, I have to apologize for Richard’s behavior.  I hope what I am going to do won’t embarrass you.  But Richard needs to be punished immediately for his outlandish behavior.”

 

“Richard, go and get the bath brush.”

 

“Jennifer.  Please don’t do this.  At least please don’t do this now.  Not in front of these women.”

 

You should have thought of that before you decided to look up a woman’s skirt.  Now go and get the brush before things get worse for you.”

 

I got up and headed for the bedroom where we keep the bath brush.  It is a solid wooden brush with a long handle.  We had just purchased it a couple of days prior.  After making the purchase, Jennifer gave me a few swats just to test it out.  They hurt. I couldn’t imagine what she was going to do now that she was so angry.  And in front of all the neighborhood women.  How was I going to walk down the street and see them after being spanked by Jennifer in front of them.  And what if they tell their husbands?  I’ll be the laughing stock.  But I knew I didn’t have a choice but to take what Jennifer decides.

 

When I returned to the room, it suddenly went quiet.  I assume Jennifer told them what she intended.  I walked up to Jennifer and handed her the bath brush.

 

“Well Richard.  What do you have to say for yourself?  Apologize to Sue.”

 

I turned to look at Sue.  “Please forgive me Sue.  I was looking up your skirt.  A gentleman would never do that to a lady.  I apologize and deserve to be punished.”

 

Sue said “I’ll wait to see how well you take your punishment before I tell you if I accept your apology.  If you accept your punishment, I’ll accept your apology.  But your punishment will continue until I am satisfied.”

 

Jennifer then said “okay Richard.  Let’s get started.  Stand in the middle of the room and remove your pants.”

 

“What?  No please Jennifer.  I’m too embarrassed to do that in front of our friends.  Please don’t make me do it.”

 

“You saw Sue’s panties.  It’s only right for everyone to see your shorts.  Drop those pants now!”

 

I had no choice.  As my face turned red again, I slowly removed my pants and stood in the middle of the room.

 

“Bend over and grab your ankles and look at Sue.  I want her to see how you respond to your punishment.”

 

As I bent over facing Sue, Jennifer stood behind me and swung the brush.  Whack! Whack! Whack!  Three quick smacks broke the silence.  And these weren’t the fun swats from a few nights ago.  These were punishment swats and they hurt.

 

“How does that feel Richard?  Was it worth seeing Sue’s panties?  We’ll see.” Whack! Whack! Whack!  Three more quick ones.  And the girls began to giggle.  I’m not sure what was worse, the pain in my ass or the humiliation I was suffering in front of the girls.

 

“This isn’t enough.  Those shorts are offering too much protection.” With that, Jennifer put her hands in the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down below my ass.  “Now you will be able to watch as his ass turns from white to pink to red or worse.”

 

I couldn’t believe what was happening.  My naked ass was there for them to see.  I knew I would never think of me the same way again.  I would always be the sissy who is dominated by his wife.

 

Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  Three more on the naked ass.  Those hurt so much more.

 

Now the girls started to comment.  “Look at his ass.  It is turning red.    I love it.  Keep going Jennifer.  He deserve a lot more than that.”

 

And a lot more I got.  Jennifer hit me twenty times before she stopped.  My ass was sore and starting to heat up. I wondered how many more she would give me.  I was ready to be done.  Was I ever mistaken.

 

“Okay girls.  Who wants to be next?”

 

Next?  It isn’t bad enough that Jennifer is spanking me in front of them.  Now she is going to let another girl use the brush. I thought about protesting but knew it would be useless.  Jennifer was on a mission.  I knew this was going to be the worst punishment spanking I had ever received.

 

“How about you Paula?  Do you want to go next?”

 

“I don’t know.  I’ve never spanked anyone before.”

 

“Well it’s time you did.  You’ll find out just how much fun it can be.  You may even like it enough to spank your husband when he misbehaves.”

 

“Okay.”  And with that Paula took the brush, took a stance and swung.

 

Swat.  Swat.  Her hits were very light.

 

“That will never do.  Swing hard and hit his ass like you mean it.”

 

Swat.  Swat.  Swat.  Three more hits that were harder but no where near Jennifer’s.

 

“Those love taps don’t count.  Swing really hard.  If you don’t we may just have to give you a few so you know what hard swats feel like.”

 

Well I guess that was enough incentive for Paula to really get into it.  Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  And those really hurt.

 

“That’s it.  Now you are getting into it.  Give him a total of twenty.  And she did.

 

“Okay girls.  Now you see how it is done.  Richard.  Now it is your turn to choose a girl.  Crawl on your knees to the girl of your choice, hand her the bath brush and ask her to please apply twenty very hard swats on your naked ass.  But we will save Suefor last.”

 

Could things get worse?  Now I had to ask the girls to give me a hard spanking with the brush on my very sore naked ass.  I didn’t know how many more girls would have a turn.  So I decide to choose Karen, the smallest girl there.  Boy was that a mistake.  I didn’t realize it but Karen works out in the weight room four days a week.  Her swats were harder than Jennifer’s.  And they brought tears to my eyes.  I didn’t know how much more I could take.

 

“Okay Richard.  Choose your next girl.”  And so it went until there were only two girls remaining, Sue and Judy, that neighborhood bitch that caught me.  Judy is a big woman.  Somewhat overweight and, in my opinion, a slob.  We’ve never gotten along.  If it was her legs that were spread, I would have never gotten in trouble.

 

“That leaves Sue and Judy.  Crawl over to Judy and ask her paddle you ass.”

 

Dreading every second, I did as I was told and crawled over to Judy.  “Judy.  Please use this bath brush and apply twenty very hard swats to my naked ass.” I couldn’t believe I was asking this woman to do this to me.  But I did it.

 

“Well Richard, these girls don’t really know how to swing a hair brush.  But I do.   I used to have a sissy boyfriend and there was many a night that he slept at the foot of my bed with an ass that radiated heat form the spanking that I delivered.  Crawl into the middle of the room, stay on your knees and touch your head to the floor.”

 

I did as instructed.  I knew this was going to be bad but I had no idea just how bad.  She straddled my body facing my ass and gripped my body with her legs so I couldn’t move.  And then she swung.  Whack!  Whack!  I couldn’t believe the pain as she swung.  Maybe it was because she was working on a super sore ass, but her swats were worse than Jennifer’s have ever been.  I couldn’t help it.  I screamed when she hit me.  By the fifth I was in tears.  By the twentieth, I could barely catch my breath I was sobbing so badly.  I was a sobbing mess with an ass that had passed the point of red.

 

At this point, Jennifer stepped in.  “Well Sue, since you were the offended party, I was going to let you give Richard as many swats as you thought he deserved.  But, after Judy did such a marvelous job, I don’t think her can take anymore.  So, rather than spanking him now, I will give you a rain check.  At some time in the future, you can ask Richard to bring out the bath brush and you can give him a many swats as you like on his naked ass.  And you can do it any where you choose and in front of anyone you  choose.  Is that okay with you?”

 

“Yes Jennifer.  It is.  With the state of Richard’s ass right now, I don’t think he would get the full effect that I would like to deliver.  Plus, I really like the idea that I can punish Richard on his naked ass whenever I want and in front of whoever I want.  And I think I know the perfect situation.”

 

“Okay Richard.  Seems as though Sue is going to let you off tonight.  But I can’t wait to see what she has in store for you in the future.  Now, to finish you punishment, you need some corner time.  When you are not serving us, you are to stand in the corner with your ass exposed.  Now thank Sue for not paddling you tonight.”

 

I was barely able to crawl over to Sue.  And with tears streaming down my face and between uncontrollable sobs I managed to say “Thank you Sue for having mercy on my very sore ass.  And I want to apologize again for looking up your skirt.”

 

“Apology accepted.”

 

And that is the story of my party spanking.  A few days latter, when the pain and bruising started to subsided, I began to fantasize about what Sue had in store for me.  But that’s another story.

Totally Unrelated to Spanking : Random Feel-Good-Ness

 

None of us thinks about the same thing all the time, thank goodness. I, like most of you, spend a bit of time engaging in things which are absolutely unrelated to spanking (although I try to keep it to a minimum), and sometimes enjoy things which are totally useless and nonsensical.

Since we could all of us use more silliness in our lives, I’ve added a few things below which you might enjoy…

 

First, one of our most revered singer/songwriters, the amazing Dolly Parton. Even folks who don’t care for country and western music would have a hard time finding something bad to say about this talented and funny woman, and after seeing this video I love her even more: 

 

Next, a somewhat older video, but one that never fails to make me laugh hysterically and inappropriately. If you need me to explain why this video is hilarious, then you’ve not looked closely enough…

 

 

And finally, this guy, who’s just awakened from anesthesia following surgery and doesn’t recognize his wife of many years…

 

 

‘The Boomerang Effect Times Two’ EDITED

 

The ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest turned out a lot of really good stories, and this one’s no exception. Enjoy ‘The Boomerang Effect Times Two’!

–  Dana

“THE BOOMERANG EFFECT TIMES TWO”
Even at my very worst, I never expect to lose, so what in the world could have gone wrong last night, and where exactly did I mess up??? First let me start off by telling you that I am currently in my room at the Ramada Inn, soaking in a tub filled with Epsom salt to help heal my injuries. Yes my backside is lit up like a Christmas tree, but that’s just the least of my concerns. I’ve been spanked plenty of times before but never like this. By now I’m sure the video has gone viral, and there is nothing that I can do about it. The good thing is that I’m still alive, the bad thing is that I’d rather be dead than be humiliated the way I was, but I suppose I had it coming. I guess I should start from the beginning. As everyone may or may not know their are only two guilty pleasures that Mr. CM loves to partake in. A good spanking whether giving or receiving and a hot woman, whether giving or receivingAnd for the past eight years I have had my share of both. Primarily with Javier and Sylvia, my good friends..correction ex-friends that I often played with. We were true blue Philly Spankos…attending various parties around the city when time allowed. Thru them I was able to connect with spankos from all over the East Coast. But of course my insatiable appetite for hot women led me to have a secret affair with Sylvia, and Javier was left in the dark completely. I did feel bad initially but the sex was incredible and I couldn’t help myself.
I realized of course that this affair could not go on, and eventually I tried to pull away but Sylvia wouldn’t have it! She told me that, I was the best lover that she ever had, and that there was no need to spoil a good thing. She promised to never tell Javier. Even so I decided to end it, but I had to do it spur of the moment so that Sylvia couldn’t talk me out of it. I called her last night before the annual Dark Horse Dominas Bash. I told her that the affair was over and that I was telling Javier the truth. “No you can’t do that“…she said in a hostile voice, “it will destroy my marriage“. “Sylvia, I’m sorry but this has to be done“….”I can’t take the deception anymore“. With that, I was confident that no matter what happend, I would atleast have that burden lifted off my chest. The Dark Horse Dominas Bash is an annual gathering of local Dominas and their house slaves, as well as kinky couples, and specially invited singles. It’s a celebration of the Dominas in all their glory. And yours truly was an invited guess of Domina Charmin Brown.
I arrived late as usual and found the event to be spirited as always…the drinks were flowing, and a few asses were glowing. A good start to a more than memorable night. I decided that I would wait until after the Bash to tell Javier the sad truth of things. No need to ruin the night early. I mingled with a few old friends and had a few drinks when I saw Javier come towards me. He looked rather happy, almost cocky as he smurked and asked me to go with him to a private back room. “Javier what’s up”..I asked him. “Just come back here with me right now!”…he replied. Not sure what to expect when I got to the back room, I found Sylvia their waiting. “What’s going on”…I asked again. He smiled devilishly at me, and said,..”Sylvia told me everything, and wow I can’t believe it, I mean I’m shocked and honored at the same time..after 8 years, you actually want to be collared and owned by us as are submissive”. “WHAT!”…”and you want to do it here in front of everyone at the Bash”. Damn Sylvia told him that garbage and this idiot actually believes it. But before I had a chance to even tell the truth, someone came from behind me and covered my mouth with a rag, and what smelled of chloroform. When I came to I was totally out of it, but quickly came to realize what was going on. I had been stripped completely naked, and was strapped down over a spanking horse. I couldn’t speak due to the ball gag in my mouth. I had been set up by Sylvia and there was nothing I could do about it…my worst nightmare had come true. The entire gallery of people at the Bash were all watching as Sylvia shouted..”look, our sub is finally awake everyone”..there was a lot of laughter after that and the finally crowning took place. Javier and Sylvia officially collard me and made me their sub. As the crowd began to applause, I noticed the cameras in the gallery. They were actually filming the whole thing. I was mortified, how could this happen to me, I had to escape somehow. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Javier appeared with his infamous leather “POPPI PADDLE”. I had seen him use it on many men and women in the past, but now it was me on the receiving end. “Now it’s time for me to officially light up my new subs backside with my POPPI PADDLE”…the entire place cheered with joy and laughter…”since my sub has some balls in his mouth, you will all have to count for him”..WHACK!..”One”…WHACK!..Two”…WHACK!..”Three”. I screamed in pain but only a murmur came thru. I received 20 whacks from Javier and another 20 from Sylvia. And now with it all being caught on camera, I was officially the bitch of the Bash. How could this happen to me. I looked over at Sylvia as she grinned at me. I could read her lips..” now your really all mines”. Soon after I lost consciousness again. When I awoke I was back in my hotel room with a splitting headache and a very sore backside. There was a note left on the table for me written by Sylvia. “Dear Chris my new sub…I’m sorry that things had to workout this way, but you gave me no choice…drastic times call for drastic measures, so I did what I had to, in order to keep the peace. And now you belong to both me and my husband how ironic. I’m sorry for humiliating you the way I did, but we both know that you had it coming, the boomerang effect is very powerful…hope you heal up soon, as Javier and I can’t wait to break that bottom of yours again…as always, your new owner…LOL”. So here I am, A once proud switch reduced to a submissive sissy by my own friends. Damn…what a night!

‘Megan Becomes a Top’ : Spanking Party Star contest entry

 

Readers,

An excellent short F/F, F/M story entry to the  Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, ‘Megan Becomes a Top’ is a fun read!

Enjoy~

–  Dana

 

My name is Megan and I have been involved in a relationship with my 29 year old roommate Alexis for over three years.  Alexis is a blond bombshell who is over 6′ tall and has the firm body of an athlete.  She is a lawyer and aware that her stunning looks influences many men on juries who ogle her in court.  Because of this she dresses in tight pencil knee length skirts, stockings, heels, and silk blouses under her suit jackets.  Alexis doesn’t like men and feels that most are pigs who would benefit from the firm hand of a woman.
Alexis pays all of the bills and it is my job to keep our home neat and clean, take care of the laundry, cook, do the dishes, shopping, and to stay within my budget.  If I neglect any of my duties I find myself face down over her knee for a sound no nonsense spanking.  At 5’4″ tall and 110 lbs. I can kick and squirm all I want; but, Alexis has no trouble keeping me firmly in place over her lap.  I sometimes think that if my bottom wasn’t so cute I would avoid some of her paddlings.
I hate Alexis’ paddlings as much as I love her and she enjoys administering them but I obediently submit.  She is an expert spanking disciplinarian and many men and women have spent many unpleasant moments across her lap; and, as lovely as her lap is no one wants to go across it twice.
Alexis’ next surprise was two tickets to a spanking fantasy party in Las Vages.  She assured me that I would be giving the spankings and not on the receiving end.  I told Alexis that I had never given a spanking and that even though it sounded exciting, I wasn’t sure that I could give a good spanking.  Alexis reminded me that I had witnessed her paddling a neighbor caught peaking into our window.  I remembered squirming in my chair during his paddling knowing exactly how much her paddlings sting.  That same evening I witnessed our friend Carolyn strap her husband and the same neighbor.  Alexis explained that because of all of the time I have spent over her knee- I would have no trouble administering a proper spanking.
Alexis and I checked into our hotel and we were given name tags indicating that we were tops or spankers.  It was an  exciting feeling being Alexis’ equal and not submissive to her.  After freshening up in our room we went to the convention center where booths were set up around the perimeter.  The booths were occupied by lovely ladies of all ages with banners above their booths indicating professional disciplinarian, spankologist, spanking therapist, spanking disciplinarian, behavior therapist, and etc.  Vendors also had booths.  At one of these, “Cane-Iac Spanking Toy Store”, Alexis purchased a strap, “The Traveler- Dana’s Brutal Traveling Strap” 12″ x 21/2″ and a Spencer style paddle.  My heart again skipped a beat and I had another lump in my throat!  Alexis smiled and reminded me that we would be doing the spankings this weekend!
As we browsed around the convention center I met Mason a 20 year old college sophomore.  Mason was a small, slim, well built young man just a little bit bigger than me. He was a spankee but he told me that he had never been spanked.  Mason shared that he never had the courage to ask one of his girl friends to spank him because he was afraid they would think he was a weird creep.  He shared that he wanted his spanking to be a no nonsense punishment spanking.  He explained that he had built up guilt about his past behavior and believed that a sound spanking would be a release for him.  I shared my experiences with Alexis with him and admitted that I never have given a spanking.  I also assured Mason that I could give him the spanking that he wanted.  After all I have been over Alexis’ knee on the receiving end often enough and Alexis only gave painful punishment spankings.  I explained to Mason that if he agreed to be spanked by me that once he went over my knee it would be too late for him to change his mind and he would be a very unhappy boy long before I was finished.
I introduced Mason to Alexis and explained Mason’s desires.  Alexis went to our room and returned with her Spencer style paddle . Alexis seldom kicks back and she was dressed in her courtroom attire.  I was wearing my skin tight  yoga pants that showed off my cute behind and a white tank top that barely covered my black bra.  Alexis pulled up two straight backed chairs facing each other and sit in one.  A crowd started to gather around us.  When she crossed her legs I could hear the soft swish of her nylons.  When she smoothed her skirt and put the paddle on her lap my heart again skipped a beat.  This was her routine before putting me over her knee.  Alexis smiled at my discomfort and assured me that I was doing the spanking.
A large crowd gathered around us as I sit across from Alexis and took her paddle.  Mason meekly stood by my side and confessed he felt a lot of guilt because of his past behavior and needed a good spanking.  I think all 300 at the convention center had their eyes upon us as I lowered Mason’s pants and briefs and draped him across my spandix clad lap.  I adjusted him over my knees so his bottom was directly across my lap.  Before his first spank I reminded him that it was too late for him to change his mind.  He had asked for a severe punishment spanking and that was exactly what he was going to get.  I raised Alexis’ paddle high above my head and with a snap of my wrist brought it down sharply on the middle of his bottom leaving a perfect imprint of the paddle.  Mason gasped and kicked as I delivered a second spank just below the first.  I proceeded to paddle his bottom up one side and down the other as he kicked and screamed.  Next I concentrated the spanks where the buttocks and thighs met as the crowd chanted, “Go Girl Go”.  Long before I was finished he was howling and begging for me to quit.  Being on the receiving end of many punishment spankings I continued his spanking until his entire bottom was cherry red.  I emphasized his last few spanks on the spots that were the sorest.  When I finally stopped he laid helpless over my lap.  Before I released him to do his spanking dance I told him, “Be careful of what you wish for because you might get it.”

‘How Many Panties?’ Contest for DanaKaneSpanks.com members

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After having launched the DanaKaneSpanks.com member site, it became clear yet again that a) being a spanko and b) making spanking videos and even c) being pretty good at figuring stuff out in general – doesn’t mean that you’ll understand a damn thing about computer programming.

As regular readers and correspondents know, I took a crash course in video formatting, operating system limitations, and browser incompatibility. Long story short: there’s no single, universal way to make and disseminate video content while insuring that EVERYONE EVERYWHERE may access it simply and successfully. Some early subscribers had a hard time buffering and/or streaming scenes within the member area, and a few were unable to access the Flash videos at all.

So, with a Herculean effort by a wonderful new webmaster, and several weeks of converting and reformatting ALL the videos (around 180 now, I think), I’m happy to announce that the entire archive on DanaKaneSpanks.com has now been made easily accessible to all subscribers.

How did we do this? I’m glad you asked…

All scenes are now available in both high and lo-res MP4 versions (for slow browsers, dial up connections, and mobile devices), and, best of all,

all videos are now DOWNLOADABLE in both versions! So even if your browser doesn’t love MP4’s, or your Windows Machine working on Firefox won’t stream embedded videos, etc etc, etc – you can still watch the videos, no buffering, no trouble, by simply downloading and watching through your machine’s default video player.

 

THE CONTEST

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To celebrate finally finishing this massive project, I’m holding a contest just for DanaKaneSpanks.com site members. The winning member will receive a free subscription to the website (if your current membership is for 30 days, you’ll get 30 days free. If your membership is for 90 days, you’ll get a FREE 90 day extension.)

 

The contest is simple. I’ve added the photoset “How Many Panties” to the member’s area on DanaKaneSpanks.com. Enjoy the 60 photos taken from a spanking Angel received for bringing way, way, way too many panties when she last visited. When you’re done, try to guess How Many Panties Angel is being punished for. The first member to guess the correct number (kinda like ‘How many jellybeans in the jar?’) is the winner. If no one guesses the number exactly, the nearest guess will win.

*Remember to include your DanaKaneSpanks.com username when sending in your guess, and email it to me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

 

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–  Dana

 

 

‘The Party’ : Spanking Party Star contest entry

 

Readers,

All this month we’ll be enjoying spanking story entries from the ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, and here’s one of many excellent offerings – 

The Party.

 

Enjoy!

–  Dana

 

How do I get myself into these things I mused as I stood naked beside my Mistress knowing that in a few minutes I would be exposed before an audience of, well who knew how many. Despite my nudity I was sweating and my legs were shaking. I looked across at Mistress who was wearing her best “domme” outfit and she gave me an encouraging smile. Looking over to my left I saw a young woman in a similar state of undress who also looked very nervous. I had learned earlier that her name was Elizabeth and like me she was new to these affairs. At least she’s attractive I thought, whatever else happened this evening people weren’t going to laugh at her appearance.Me, well that was a different story, a funny looking bespectacled middle aged man with a beer belly, who wouldn’t laugh? Suddenly I saw Elizabeth tense and realised that the sounds of chatter in the next room had stopped. Then I heard the voice of the M.C. ” Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for coming to this, the 5th annual spankathon in aid of Cancer Research. I hope you are all having a good time?”There were loud cheers and a few shouts of “get on with it”. It sounded like there were hundreds of people out there and I fought back an impulse to turn and run away. The M.C. gave a brief summary of the work of the charity that the evening was in aid of and then came the words I had been dreading. “Without further ado lets met our guests of honour. Please give a warm welcome to Mistress Ava and Simon and Master James and Elizabeth” With that the door was opened and I was, with the help of a little push from Mistress, propelled out into the main room of the hotel.

I was led into the centre of the slightly raised area at the back of the room along with Elizabeth. So far I hadn’t looked up, staring resolutely at the floor ,but encouraged by the fact that there hadn’t been any laughter or derision I finally raised my eyes. There were about 70 people in the room, and there seemed to be a roughly even mixture of men and women. Some were dressed in, for want of a better term, fetish gear but a surprising number seemed to be in there normal everyday clothes. The M.C. who was dressed as a circus ringmaster, top hat and whip included, stepped forward.  “Right lets get this evening going, If you would like to spank either of volunteers it will cost you twenty pounds. Using the hairbrush or slipper will set you back thirty quid. Especially for our Scottish friends we have a selection of tawses which will set you back five pounds a stroke and for those of you who prefer a more swishy implement we have a number of canes or riding crops which will cost ten pounds a stroke. I’ve been assured by Mistress Ava and Master James that both of these bottoms can take a serious amount of punishment so lets put that to the test. So form an orderly queue, on the left for Elizabeth and the right for Simon, and don’t forget it’s for a very good cause”. Two queues of people clutching their wallets formed, noticeably more on the left but I had expected that after all who wouldn’t want to spank the firm rounded cheeks of Elizabeth. Then I saw my first customer, a middle aged lady wearing the outfit of a headmistress. ” I’d like to spank him and then give him 6 of the best” she said to Mistress as she handed over eighty pounds. I gulped, I had sometimes been spanked by friends of my Mistress but very rarely and never in front of so many people. Gingerly I lowered myself over her lap feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The first smack arrived and although it stung I relaxed as I realised it wasn’t going to be any worse than the spankings carried out by my Mistress. A quick 30 smacks later and I was being ordered to stand up and then bend over the bench in the centre of the room. As I made my way over I glanced at Elizabeth who was receiving a sound thrashing with a hairbrush from an elderly gentleman who was very red in the face. I hoped the excitement wouldn’t be too much for him, someone having a heart attack would put a bit of a downer on the evening. However I had my own problems and I bent over the bench and grasped the legs. My punisher was swishing a vicious looking cane through the air and had the look of someone determined to do some damage to my tender bottom. The first stroke showed that she was an experienced user of canes and each of the following strokes ignited a burning sensation in my cheeks.  Then it was over and I returned to the centre of the room. Well that wasn’t too bad I thought I think I’ll survive the rest of the evening. Then I realised that my next customer was a man! When she had asked me if I would provide the male part of the entertainment Mistress had explained that it might involve being punished by a man but I had put the thought aside, now it looked like I would have to face it. “I’d like to spank him and then use the hairbrush” he said handing over the money. He sat down on the chair provided and gestured for me to get over his knee. I hesitated, I had never been spanked by a man what would it be like? Gingerly I lowered myself down and shivered as he ran his hands over my buttocks. I didn’t have long to wait as my first ever spank from a male hand landed on my left cheek. It didn’t feel any different to a spank from a man but I still felt a little uneasy. Soon his hand was replaced with a hairbrush and this was somehow easier to take. My bottom was starting to feel quite sore by the time he had finished and I returned to the centre.
And so the evening continued, poor Elizabeth was clearly the main draw as she was receiving about 3 punishments to each one of mine. As her beautiful bottom got redder and redder and wealed with cane stripes I could only admire her fortitude. She took everything she was given with the odd grunt and occasional squeal if a particularly hard stroke hit her but she was still smiling. Whilst Elizabeth had had far more punishments it was noticeable that mine had tended to be more severe. The majority of people seemed to want to spank her than cane her. I could sympathise with that, her lovely glowing cheeks looked eminently spankable. I on the other hand had received far more canings and strappings than I had spankings. I had so far received 50 strokes of the cane and 80 of the strap. After decades of beatings from Mistress my buttocks didn’t tend to mark up that much but they were definitely looking the worse for wear. I prided myself on being able to take a lot of punishment from my Mistress but I was grateful that the evening was coming to an end. Then I heard my Mistress mutter “oh no” and I looked over to see a very determined looking woman striding towards us, From the reactions of the crowd it was clear that they knew her and I noticed some muttering amongst them. She stopped to chat with the M.C. who then came over to talk to Mistress Ava. She shrugged and looked at me. The M.C.. then stepped up to the microphone “Ladies and Gentlemen, Mistress Sapphire has offered to pay £500 pounds to give Simon 50 strokes, she has also said that if he can take the whole 50 without being tied down, without standing up and without asking for it to stop she will double that amount. So Simon do you accept the challenge”? I thought about how sore my bottom was already and almost declined. Then I thought about the family and friends that I had lost to cancer and knew that I had to try. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be able to take that sort of punishment but I was going to give it a go. Okay I said as I walked over to the bench and bent over. I could sense the eyes of seventy people on me and my bruised behind and felt excited and terrified at the same time. The first stroke whistled down and the impact made me gasp. It was clear that his lady meant business. Strokes followed in rapid succession and it felt to me that they were increasing in severity with each one. I gasped and moaned with each agonising impact but I was determined to last as long as possible. I could feel the eyes of the audience on my bottom and felt aroused by that fact. I glanced over to where Elizabeth was standing, still naked and rubbing her bottom ruefully. Seeing me looking at her she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Then I glanced in the other direction and saw my Mistress looking extremely worried. I knew that despite her severe demeanour she was worried about me so I a gave her a weak smile and she smiled back. At that moment the hardest stroke yet hit and I gave out an agonised yell and almost shot to my feet. Somehow I managed to control the impulse and remain bent over the bench. I had lost count but I heard the M.c. say thirty. I used a trick I used during particulary severe punishments from my Mistress and started working out the percentage of strokes still to come. Unfortunately even in the pain I was in it didn’t take much concentration to work out a percentage if the number of strokes was 50 so that wasn’t much of a distraction. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the ever increasing pain in my buttocks. Surely she had ripped my cheeks to shreds particularly the right cheek as she was right handed and that cheek was taking the bulk of the impact. Suddenly I realised that the audience was counting loudly and that some were shouting encouragement. 45, 46, 47, 48, 49 came the shout and I realised that I had only 1 more stroke to take, 50! I had made it but I knew better than to rise before I was given permission. There was loud cheering from the crowd and the woman who had been beating me told me to rise. “Well done” she said and shook my hand. My Mistress strolled over affecting a casual air but I was cheered by the fact that she had clearly been worried and concerned for my welfare. “Very well done” she said “every year she makes that beat at the end of the evening when the slave has already received a number of punishments, you’re the first one to take the lot”. Suddenly a number of the crowd appeared beside me and dragged me over to the bar. A number of drinks appeared in front of me and it was only when halfway through the first I remembered that I was still naked. This had to qualify as the weirdest drinks I had ever had, naked with a bunch of strangers and a very sore and welted bottom. Then thee M.C. took to the stage. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure I can confirm that this years event has raised a total of £8500 pounds for Cancer Research, the best total ever. Thank you all and lets give a special cheer for our brave volunteers, Simon and Elizabeth”. A loud cheer rent the air and I received a number of pats on the back. Some of the audience also gave my bum a quick squeeze but I was so happy I didn’t mind at all. Yes I had a very sore bottom and a considerable number of people had seen me naked but I had enjoyed the experience and raised a considerable sum for a charity very close to my heart. Was this the best evening of my life? Probably not but it was close.

 

Fun follow-up to the ‘I’m worried about Amanda Bynes…’ post

 

Okay, this video isn’t at all about Amanda Bynes (who is, apparently, truly very ill), but Justin Bieber – another of the young celebrities I mentioned needing discipline.

In this ‘Between Two Palms’ interview/spoof, Zach Galifianakis, the host, asks young Bieber several ridiculous questions and receives several ridiculous answers…the whole thing’s pretty silly.

But watch the whole video, because close to the end, wait for it…

 

Zach takes his belt off.

Spanking PSA : Spanko Terminology for Newbies

 

Readers,

I’m sure that this has been done before, and probably more thoroughly than I’ll manage here, but we do have newcomers to the spanking community every day and not everyone knows where to look for basic information on the ins and outs and all-arounds of spanking.

So. I thought that it would be a fun idea to do a series of posts to offer some basic (and not-so-basic, eventually) stuff for newbies to peruse. I’ll invite experienced players to expand on my posts in the comments area below, so that your collective wisdom can help inform others…remember, we were all clueless about all of this at one time.

It seems that a good place to start is with some basic terminology. Even though this stuff appears to go without saying to some of us, even the most common spanko terms may be confusing to newbies. With that said, let’s cover some of the most common spanking terms..

(Please keep in mind that some folks will define a few of these terms somewhat differently, depending upon their personal experience/preferences, and it’s important to discuss these things with anyone new with whom you play/communicate.)

 

Spanko – Short for ‘spankophile’, it’s a term which we use to refer to ourselves and others with an interest in spanking and domestic discipline/corporal punishment. (Note: Spankophile does not appear in the dictionary, nor am I trying to overcomplicate a simple term. These words and explanations are here to help NEWBIES when they see words they may not understand (in our parlance).)

Top – A person, of any gender, who only gives spankings but does not receive them.

Bottom – A person who only receives spankings but does not give them.

Switch – A person who both gives and receives spankings. Some switches may refer to themselves as a “50/50” switch (meaning they equally enjoy both top and bottom roles), or a “mostly-toppy” switch (meaning that they like to bottom occasionally but prefer to top), etc. etc.

*Note: Switching can also refer to the act of spanking someone or being spanked with a switch, as in “Go cut me a switch.”

Corporal Punishment – This occurs when one person uses physical touch, either with hand or implement, on one or more parts of the body, with the intent to cause another physical discomfort.

Discipline – This occurs when one is held accountable, through corporal punishment, for negatively-perceived behavior.

Punishment – See Discipline. Usually, the difference between these two terms is subjective to the level of negative behavior and the agreement of the parties involved.

Maintenance – These spankings usually occur on a regular or semi-regular basis, and are most often for the purposes of keeping one ‘on the right track’, so to speak, either mentally, physically, emotionally, or all of the above.

Non-Corporal Punishment – Often used in tandem with spanking, these activities include corner time, mouth-soaping, writing/reading assignments, and many others.

Role Play – Within the context of a spanking ‘scene’, role play refers to the top, bottom, or both, taking on the persona of another person or time. Examples include: teacher/student, boss/employee, etc.

Limits (or Hard Limits) – This is usually meant to indicate ‘no-go zones’, and are subjective to the player. Example : “My hard limits include bondage, canes, and thigh spanking.” This means that the example person does NOT want bondage or canes utilized during spanking play, nor do they wish to be spanked on their thighs.

We’ll take our time to cover the myriad terms, sayings, and situations we use within the spanko community, but if you’ve a question about any basic spanko terms (or have any to add), please share here.

– Dana

Spanking Party Star contest entry : ‘The Surprise Party’

 

Readers,

I know you’ll love this entry to the  ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, titled The Surprise Party….I did.

–  Dana

 

THE SURPRISE PARTY

My wife spanks me. As strange as that image might seem to some, it is that simple. She doesn’t walk around the house dressed in a leather cat suit brandishing a whip and we don’t have any kind of a master/slave relationship. There is no dungeon equipment hidden behind a secret door in our basement. We don’t engage in any complex fantasy role playing. Dawn spanks me. When she thinks I need one, my wife simply puts me across her knee for a good old fashioned spanking.

And it works for us. It works very, very well. I have the kind of personality that lacks discipline and Dawn loves me enough to provide some. Aside from this one aspect of our life, our relationship is an equal partnership. We collaborate on household decisions and matters pertaining to our children and our business. But when it comes to my discipline, Dawn has complete control. When she provides me a list of chores, I am expected to attend to them. Other wives may have to continually nag their husbands to complete household repairs but mine asks me only once. If she has to tell me the second time, it is her hairbrush or her strap that does the talking for her. There is seldom a third time. When I get overly sensitive or moody, ten minutes positioned over a pile of pillows on our bed as she uses her cane to reprimand me rarely fails to get me out of my funk. Disrespecting Dawn earns me my hardest spankings. Disrespecting myself is a close second. We are extremely happy. Our friends notice it. Our kids notice it.

We married young and over 20 years later, our love life was as vibrant and passionate as it ever had been. We spent as many hours together as life would permit and revelled in it. Spanking keeps me in line and keeps us intimate as a couple.  As much as her discipline sessions hurt at the time, I have grown to both anticipate them…and relish in the glow afterwards. As odd as it sounds, I can feel the love in her hands as she disciplines me.

Dawn had always spanked me long enough and hard enough to get her point across, but she was also in tune with my physical reactions. She could sense when I had reached my threshold. Soon after my pleading and squirming reached a certain point, she felt the lesson had been learned and her spanking would end. I would kiss her hand and thank her for loving me enough to discipline me. I meant every word of it…and I lived to show her that I meant it with my actions also.

When the internet rolled around, we found out we were by no means alone. In fact we connected with many other couples who shared in our lifestyle. Web browsing lead to emails, emails to phone calls, phone calls to dinner dates, and before we knew it Dawn and I were getting together with other femdom spanking couples on a regular basis. Mostly it was a weekend here or there with a few couples along with one annual gathering involving a larger number of husbands and wives. For the most part it was all pretty light hearted.  Gatherings included some mild spanking games flavored with lots of great fellowship and laughter.  While there was the occasional firmer spanking session from another wife, for the most part all of my genuine discipline spankings still happened at home. It was at one of those annual gatherings when that changed.

It was a Saturday morning. There were seven couples that year, all of us very familiar and very open with each other. We had laughed plenty by that point. There had been lots of games and every husband had felt a degree of swats from each wife with vast assortment of implements. Our bottoms were certainly kept reddened but by no means overly abused. We had almost reached the point where just our being together as a group had become more enjoyable, more important, than the spanking aspect. All of the husbands would soon find out that our wives had decided to add a bit of a twist to that year’s celebrations. I found out right after breakfast.

As we husbands put the finishing touches on the kitchen clean up, Charlene entered the kitchen. Charlene was considerably taller and larger than Dawn. She addressed the husbands with the same authoritative voice she often used with her own husband. When she told them to go outside and collect some firewood for the evening bonfire, none of the men disobeyed. When she told me to stay with her, I didn’t disobey her either. Charlene was a sweet and caring woman, but she also gave off a clear impression that she was not to be disrespected. Her husband had confirmed that she could indeed deliver a memorable paddling when crossed. None of us doubted his account of her severity.

When the kitchen had been vacated, Charlene led me into the large adjoining living room. The remainder of the women were seated comfortably on the sofas and plush chairs that lined the perimeter of the room. The center of the room had been cleared of everything but a large leather ottoman. On top of it sat a broad oval hairbrush and a considerably larger bath brush. Dawn looked at me and smiled. None of the other ladies said anything.

Charlene sat on the ottoman and called me to her side. When she spoke, she spoke as if it was just the two of us in the room. Her voice was firm and no-nonsense.  She proceeded to inform me that the ladies had decided that each husband would receive a disciplinary session from one of the other wives. Mine was to be from her and I was about to get it right there and then. She went on to list a detailed account of the infractions Dawn believed I deserved to be punished for. I looked towards my wife. Dawn was no longer smiling. Charlene chastised me and told me to pay attention to her and her alone. I quickly returned my gaze to her direction. She went on reciting the litany of my shortcomings and outlining the expectations that my behaviour would change. After what seemed like an eternity of humbling scolding, she picked up the hairbrush and told me to bare my bottom and get over her knee. I complied, knowing full well I was about to get a very good tanning.

Charlene wasted no time. The brush fell the second I was over her lap. Quick and harsh. She was a very hard spanker. Unlike Dawn who usually gave a number of lighter warm up smacks, Charlene got right down to business. She was strong and her strokes were rapid and full force right from the onset. She began with five or six spanks to the same spot on one cheek. Then the brush descended the same number of times to the opposite cheek…before returning to a spot close to the original strike zone with yet another series of blows. And so she went on, a sequence on the right side followed by a sequence on the left side, back and forth, back and forth, until my entire backside burned. Only then did she take a break. A respite just long enough to adjust my position, raising my bottom more over her left knee, allowing her to swing her powerful right leg over my calves to prevent my continual squirming and kicking.

And the spanking resumed. Charlene then diverted from her previous method. Instead of multiple strokes to a singular spot, the brush now fell randomly, each spank to a different spot on my behind, sometimes alternating from cheek to cheek and other times finding different targets on the same side. The force and speed of the spanking did not slow down, if anything she seemed to increase the tempo.  She was also including the tops of my thighs with this second round. I was nearing my limit. My vocal pleas to both Charlene and my wife were becoming more desperate by the moment. I assumed Charlene was reading my reactions when she finally ceased with the spanking. I was more than relived as I awaited her to release the leg hold and instruct me to stand. Much to my chagrin, my spanking was far from over.

Charlene held me firm and once again went over Dawn’s list of infractions. After each item she asked me if I understood and intended to address the problem. I choked out a “Yes Ma’am” to each. When she was satisfied with my responses, she got right back to work with the hairbrush. For a good ten more minutes that brush rained down, side to side, top to bottom in its relentless mission. At some point I realized Charlene was speaking to the other wives. She was explaining how she had discovered long ago that the most effective discipline spankings went on long after her husband wanted them to stop. Indeed it was only after he had reached his threshold that the real punishment began.

 

She was right. Long before she finished that final hairbrushing I had both physically and mentally handed control over to her. Her leg still pinned me down, but I had completely ceased any struggling and had resigned myself to accepting whatever amount of punishment she felt I deserved. I was being disciplined. Nor did I hesitate when she finally released me, stood and commanded me to lay prostrate over the ottoman.

She finished her spanking with twenty slow strokes of the bath brush. I was instructed to count each of them off. Dawn sat on the floor in front of me, holding my chin in her hand and gazing into my face as the brush hit home. When Charlene was finished, Dawn added another twenty of her own. I was not permitted to get up off the ottoman for another ten minutes. I had to lay there with my blistered bare behind on display as the ladies discussed what they had witnessed.

All of the husbands received a similar treatment before the weekend was out. The implements and the positions changed to meet each particular wife’s taste in discipline, but all of the men were just as surprised and just as thoroughly spanked.

That weekend, that party, that punishment only strengthened our relationship. I remembered what Charlene had told me and worked to make myself a better husband. When I fall short, Dawn’s knee and her hand are always there to remind me. I am blessed to have a wife that loves enough to spank.

END

 

You say it’s your birthday. – What a coincidence…

 

…it’s my birthday too.

(Insert that cheesy birthday song here.)

October’s my birthday month, and this year I’m turning 41. I’m still waiting for that upset/obsession about being over 40, but as it hasn’t happened yet I cannot comment on what the fuss is all about. I know that, by societal mores, women are suddenly *of a certain age* when they are no longer in their thirties, and they’re not supposed to be happy about it. (It should be noted that I am deliriously happy to be ANY age, because that means that I’m still here. This is a recurring theme for me, apparently. Attendance.)

Other things of note:

When you’re (a woman) over 40, all of a sudden folks think it’s a compliment to say “Wow. You don’t LOOK forty (or fifty, or whatever)!”. 

That’s not a compliment.

What the hell do you think forty (or fifty, or whatever) is supposed to look like? Should a woman no longer thought of as ‘youthful’ all of a sudden develop a dowager’s hump and conspicuous upper lip hair? Must we all sag and bag and droop in inappropriate places? That sounds more like 80 than 40, doesn’t it?

Once we’ve left our most-sensibly-timed childbearing years behind, we are also supposed to be less sexy, in practice and in perception – somehow, by process of elimination of viable pregnancy and gestation (which, I cannot stress enough, is NOT a bad thing), our hotness factor is somehow inexplicably reduced. Here, I challenge any woman who’s lived through her 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s (or beyond) to announce that she felt more sexy, sensual, and body-confident in her twenties than she does now. I, for one, am more happy with my physical reality than I’ve ever been – because it’s CONFIDENCE and EXPERIENCE which are really important…collagen’s just a pretty wrapper.

This isn’t to say that vanity isn’t a part of my middle-age reality. I know that I’m 20 years older than I was 20 years ago, and I know that nobody in their right mind would card me for booze at this juncture in my life. I’m okay with both of those things, and with the knowledge that, no matter how others may perceive me – 

I’m here. And I’m happy. And that’s all that matters. (Even if I do sometimes do that thing in the mirror where you pull your cheeks up with your index fingers to simulate a Joan-Rivers-facelift-look.)

 

–  Dana

 

If you’re a gift-giver, below are a couple links which you may peruse:

DONATE to the Nevada SPCA (Where we recently adopted Buddy, our sweet little elderly MinPin. Hundreds of rescued dogs, cats, and other pets daily.)

DONATE to the Salvation Army (They do good things, right in your community, every day.)

My Amazon.com WishList

 

Spanking Party STAR story contest winner!

 

Readers,

It is my pleasure to share with you the winner of this month’s ‘Spanking Party Star’ story contestMy First Party.

This was likely the most difficult contest judging to date. As you’ll see throughout the month of October, there were several excellent stories submitted, so I read and reread until I was certain I’d made the right choice. 

In the case of ‘My First Party’, not only is the story well-told and the characters and dialogue funny and believable, but the author’s taken the time to educate the reader – spanko terms, implements, relationships, etc – throughout the telling of the story. I hope you enjoy it, and all the rest, as much as I have.

 

Thanks again to ALL the willing authors who’ve worked so hard over the years to make the writing contests fun and competitive!

–  Dana

 

MY FIRST PARTY

By Randy Lee

 

I got out of my car, collected my purse and workday tote bag, and walked toward the steps to my second-floor apartment, pointing the remote behind me to lock the car.  I hadn’t taken five steps before sweat beaded on my forehead and was about to trickle down my face.  I unlocked my mailbox, retrieved my mail, and started up the stairs.

“Hi, Randy.  I’m sure glad the weekend is finally here.”

I paused, turned, and saw Sandra Barnes, my three-doors-down neighbor, who was climbing the stairs a few steps behind me.

“Wow, me too,” I agreed.  “This has been a real rough week at work.  As if just being busy weren’t enough, there’ve been so many difficult customers and just as many difficult bosses to contend with.  I’m really looking forward to being able to relax.”

“I’m with you there,” Sandra replied.  “I’m going to a party later.  Just the thing to wind down from a hectic week.

I reached the top of the steps and looked down at her.  “I’ll think good thoughts about your head tomorrow,” I offered.

She looked puzzled as she reached the top.  “My head?” she asked.  “What do you mean?”

I explained, “You know, a hangover.  I don’t drink anymore, but I still remember what it feels like the next morning.”

Sandra paused.  Searching for the right words, she said, “Um, well, it’s not that kind of a party.  In fact, there’s no drinking at all.”

“A party with no drinking?  Well, that’s a new one on me.”

Sandra cocked her head and looked away for a moment, her brow knit in concentration.  A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she again looked in my direction.  Hesitating briefly, she said, “You and I are pretty close.  Come over to my place for a minute.  I’ll explain.”

I followed as she walked to her door.  Unlocking it, she invited me in.  We plopped our gear on the sofa, and she said, “Have a seat.  Want some tea?”

“Yes, please,” I said.  “It’s hot out there.  Tea would really hit the spot.”

“You got that right,” she agreed.  She opened the refrigerator door and reached for a pitcher of the most refreshing beverage on earth, setting it on the counter.  She took two large tumblers from the cupboard, added ice from the freezer bin, and filled the glasses with tea, setting one in front of me and the other across the table.  She returned the pitcher to the fridge and sat down.

I looked at her.  “Okay, now what’s so top secret?”

As before, Sandra hesitated, evidencing the same suggestion of a smile, but her gaze was steady.  “It’s a spanking party.”

My eyes must have gotten as big as saucers.  “I beg your pardon??!!”

“You heard right,” she reassured me.  “I belong to a group of people who get together once a month for a spanking party.  Some of them spank, some get spanked, and some do both.  Some people, especially new ones, do neither.”

I realized my jaw was nearly on my chest.  “Sandra Barnes, do you mean to tell me there are people out there who like to be spanked?  I mean, people besides me?”

Now it was her turn to stare.  As close as we were, as much as we knew about each other, she was as surprised as I was.  “Are you saying you’re a spanko, too?”

“Spanko?  I’ve never heard that word before.”

“It’s short for spankophile.  It means someone who likes spanking, either giving or getting or both,” she explained.  “So which are you, a Top or a Bottom?”

“Top or Bottom?”  It sounded like English, but she was speaking a foreign language to me.  “What does that mean?”

“A Top is a spanker.  A Bottom is a spankee.  A Switch does both.”

“I guess I’m a Bottom.  I like to be whipped.  Spanked, you call it.  So ‘Switch’ doesn’t mean what weapon is used?”

“Oh, no.  Many Tops spank with their hands.  Some use paddles or belts or other toys.”

“Toys!!??  If somebody came at me with a paddle, ‘toy’ is not the first word I would think of.” I thought for a few moments.  “Although I have had a belt and a riding crop used on me.  It was kinda rough, but I wanted it.  And I liked it.”  By way of clarification, I added, “There were always bruises.”

“So you’ve done it more than once,” Sandra asked.

“Yes, a number of times.  Maybe twenty times.”

“But ‘toy’ wasn’t the word that came to mind?”

“No.  It was not a game.  It was consensual, but not sensual.” For a brief moment I was lost in memories of a former time.

Sandra brought me back to the present.  “Were you always the one that received the spankings, or did you sometimes give them.”

“I was always on the receiving end, so to speak.”

Sandra smiled an acknowledgement of the pun. “At our parties, our aim is to have fun.  We do this because we enjoy it.  Bottoms enjoy getting spanked, and Tops enjoy spanking them.  If it gets unpleasant, the Bottom says so, and the Top changes tactics.  Either that or the Top is asked to leave.  Well actually, told to leave.  It’s a rule.”  She was quiet for a minute.  “Wanna come to the party?  I could make a phone call and see if it’s okay.  I’m sure it will be.  You don’t even have to play if you don’t want to.

“Play?  Is that what you call it?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed.  ‘Play.’  That’s what you do with ‘toys.’  I bet you would enjoy it.  No one will coerce you into doing anything you don’t want to do.  You can just be an observer.  I think you would be surprised how much fun you’ll have.”

“Where does this take place?  I’m imagining a dungeon somewhere.”

Sandra laughed.  “No, it’s not a dungeon.  This group meets at the home of some members, a married couple.  More like a mansion, really.  This house has eight bedrooms, six bathrooms, two large living rooms, and the usual den, dining room, kitchen, etc.  And a four-car garage and ten acres.  And indoor and outdoor swimming pools, one of each.”

I was amazed.  “Wow, Sandra.  That sounds like quite a mansion, all right.  “Yes, I’d like to go.  If there is a fee involved, I’ll gladly fork it over.”

She answered, “There’s a fee for the party, and there’s a one-time fee for membership in the group.”  She told me the amounts.  “And they do require cash.”

“Not a problem,” I said.  “I happen to have that much on me.  What do I do?  I’ll need to change clothes.”  I got up to leave.

“I’ll get hold of one of the people in charge and get it all set up.  You go shower and get something to eat if you want to.  They’ll have munchies at the party.  Either way, brush your teeth.  Be back at 7 and we can ride together, or you can follow me.  The party lasts till 2 in the morning, but I usually leave about 11.  Oh, and just wear something vanilla.”

“You mean white?”

Sandra laughed again, this time at my lack of knowledge.  “No, it just means ordinary.  Not a costume or anything suggesting spanking.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  I’m sure I looked confused, but not as confused as I felt.

“Take your tea.  You can bring the glass back later.”

“Yeah.  Sure.” Dazed, I grabbed the glass and my tote bag and went out the door, heading for my place.

I walked the thirty-odd steps to my apartment, thoughts spinning around in my mind like it was a blender.  Okay, Randy.  What have you gotten yourself into this time?  Well, she said I could just observe.  She said I don’t have to participate.  What did she call it?  ‘Play?’  This is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard of.  But an hour ago, my craving was the strangest thing I’d ever heard of.  Yeah, an hour ago, and a year ago, and twenty years ago.  This may just be what I’ve been looking for all this time.

I unlocked my apartment door and went in, relocking the door behind me.  I parked my tote bag and purse in their usual places and headed for the bedroom, kicking off my shoes.  A long, satisfying drink of tea went a long way toward slaking my thirst.  I padded around in socks, shedding an article of clothing every few steps.  These I gathered up and tossed into the dirty-clothes basket in the corner.  I stopped in front of the closet, whose doors were always open unless company was coming, and gazed at my wardrobe.  Vanilla.  What’s vanilla?  Ordinary.  How about dark slacks and a casual top?  Yeah, that would be fine.  I reached for hangers containing navy pants and a blue and white flower-print shirt with a straight hem and hung them on a hook on the bathroom door.  I went to my bureau and opened the underwear drawer.  If I just observe, I’ll keep my clothes on.  But if I change my mind, am I going to undress?  Will I keep my panties on?  Should I choose attractive undies?  Will anyone care?  Probably not.  I took panties, a bra, and socks from the drawer and laid them on top of the bureau.  Then I went into the bathroom, reached to turn on the shower, and stripped off my remaining garments.  Having shampooed my hair that morning, I decided it wasn’t necessary to do it again, so I put on a shower cap.  Checking that the water was warm, I stepped into the back of the tub and closed the sliding door.  I quickly scrubbed all over, using the bath brush on my back.  Turning under the shower head to rinse off the residual soap, I contemplated what the party would be like, noting that my body was already intrigued by the idea of a whipping.  I turned off the water and slid the door open, pulling a towel from the towel bar on the outside of the door.  I took the shower cap off and shook it, replaced it on its hook, and stepped out onto the bath mat.  I dried off, hung the towel back on its bar, and went into the bedroom.  After the warm shower, another swallow of tea cooled and refreshed me.  I drained the glass, wiped the moisture off the outside of it, and stuck it in the top of my purse so I would remember to take it when I returned to Sandra’s.

I put on the undergarments and outfit I had selected.  With black oxfords, I was dressed.  I decided to forgo makeup except for my eyebrows, which were getting paler with the passing years.  Brushing my teeth was the last item on my to-do list.  With that accomplished, I studied my face in the mirror.  Randy, have you absolutely lost your mind?  Well, Sandra’s going.  I’m not any crazier than she is.  No, I guess you aren’t.  But you gotta admit, this is the zaniest Friday night of your life.  So what?  What’s life without a little drama, especially high-spirited, fun drama?  Satisfied with my preparation, I gathered my purse and the empty tumbler, turned off lights, and locked my apartment door behind me.

 

I walked to Sandra’s door and knocked.  A lusty “Come in” sounded from within the apartment, so I knew that my friend was not far from the door, most likely in the kitchen.  Letting myself in, I saw that she was dressed much like I was.

“Your outfit’s just fine,” she said.  “See?  You’re already learning vanilla.”

“Thanks,” I replied.  “Here’s your glass.”  I set it on the counter in the kitchen.  “You make great tea.  So everything is all set for me to go to the party?”

“Sure thing.  What do you want to take to drink?  I have bottled water, ginger ale, and diet cola.  And, of course, tea.”

“Water would be good.  Thanks.”

“You’re quite welcome.  Getting spanked is thirsty work,” she joked.  “Not that you necessarily will.” She reached into the fridge and brought out four bottles of water, placing them in a lunch-sized cooler.  “Okay, looks like we’re all set.”

“All right,” I said, moving toward the door.  “Can I carry anything?”

“Nope, I got it.”

I opened the door and went out.  She followed, locking the door behind her.  We descended the steps in the bright Texas sun, which at 7 p.m. was still hotter than West Hell.

When she got to the bottom of the steps, Sandra asked, “Do you want to ride with me or take your own car?”

“I’ll accept the gracious invitation to go with you,” I said, joining her on ground level.  It’ll help me not to be so nervous.  Besides, I don’t expect to get bored and want to leave.”   I smiled, and she laughed.  “So how far away is this place?”

“It’s only about 9 miles.  You’ll be surprised where it is.”

We left the parking lot and headed toward downtown.  After a few blocks, Sandra turned right, in the direction of a city park.  She drove around it and continued on a four-lane street toward the outskirts of town.  We passed the high school and then a shopping mall.  A few miles later, we came to what was known as the “hospital district,” a rather pretentious moniker for the area surrounding the town’s only hospital.  It was new, however, and two generous endowments had provided for creating and maintaining state-of-the-art equipment and leading-edge technology in several specialties.  The facility had the potential to become a showcase for modern medicine, though on a small scale.

We drove past the emergency entrance, and Sandra observed that there were no ambulances and only one police car.  I voice the hope that it would be a slow night for ER personnel.  Beyond the hospital grounds, on both sides of the four-lane road, were recently constructed housing developments with interesting architecture and lawns that were well cared for.  A mile or so later, Sandra turned right, into a drive flanked with beautifully maintained shrubbery and flowers in an array of colors.  We approached a tall gate, and Sandra drove up to a call box to gain access to the property.  I imagined we were about to enter a gated community containing expensive dwellings.  Sandra pushed a button, and a male voice said, “Good evening.”

Sandra replied, “Hello, I’m Sandra.  Elements.”

The voice answered her, “Hello, Sandra.  Proceed.”  The gate moved slowly to the right, allowing us to enter.  Sandra drove through the gate and followed a road wide enough to be two-lane, on each side of which was an expanse of newly mown grass.  As the road wound and curved toward a large structure some distance in front of us, I realized that this was not a gated community; it was a gated HOUSE.  I was looking at the ten-acre grounds of the mansion.  I thought of the lyrics to a Broadway song, “What a setup! Holy Cow!  They’d never believe it if my friends could see me now.”  As we got closer, it was evident that part of the lawn to the side of this dwelling had been designated as a parking area.  Even without marked boundaries, drivers had parked their vehicles in surprisingly even rows, with enough space between each two cars to open the doors fully.

We reached the end of the grassy parking area, where Sandra pulled in beside a dark red sedan.  “Well, I see Allen is already here.  He’s the one I called to make sure it was okay.” She shifted the car to PARK and turned off the ignition.  “I would suggest you leave your purse here.  That way you won’t have to keep up with it.  Besides, there’s probably not anything in it that you’ll need.  Oh, wait:  You will need your driver’s license and money.  I’m just taking my car keys, and I keep ‘em in a pocket.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied.

“Good.  We can put them in the trunk.”  I opened my purse and got out my driver’s license and the cash I would need.  Then we got out of the car, Sandra unlocked the trunk, and we put our purses in it.  She closed the trunk and locked the car.  We turned toward the front door of the house.  “Are you nervous?” She asked.

“A little.  Well, maybe more than a little.” I admitted.

Sandra chuckled.  “So was I, the first time I came to one of these parties.  It won’t be strange for long.  In no time at all you’ll settle in.”

We reached the front porch and went up the steps.  Sandra rang the bell.  The door was opened by a tall, slim man with dark hair just turning silver at the temples.  On his green golf shirt was a name tag that said “JOHN,” beneath which was a solid blue circle.  “Hi, Sandra,” he boomed, hugging her as he pulled her inside.  I followed, and he closed the door.  He leaned down to kiss her cheek and then looked at me. “This must be the friend Allen called me about.”

“Yes, indeed,” Sandra replied.  Turning to me, she said, “Randy, this is John, the master of the house.”  She gestured toward me.  “John, my friend and neighbor Randy.”

He took my hand in a gentle handshake.  “So pleased to meet you, Randy.  Sandra tells me you’re new to the lifestyle.”

“Yes,” I agreed, having no idea what he was talking about.

My neighbor rescued me.  “What he means is the Spanko lifestyle.  Yes, Randy’s new to the lifestyle, but not the fetish.  She was into spanking some years ago but just didn’t know other people were.  She’s never been to a spanking party before.”

“Well, you’re certainly welcome, Randy,” John said warmly.  “We have a real friendly group.  Let’s get you registered, and there’s some information we need to make note of.  Come along.” He led Sandra and me to the kitchen, where a woman sat at a table with a notebook and pen, a sheet of self-adhesive name tags and a sheet of different-colored adhesive circles with some missing, and a locking money box.  “Evelyn, we have a new member.  Sandra brought along her neighbor.  It’s been cleared with Allen.”  The woman had printed “SAN” on one of the name tags and stopped to greet us.

“Yes, he told me.  That’s great!” she said to John.  To me, she held out her hand.  “Hi, I’m Evelyn.”

“I’m Randy,” I answered, gripping her hand briefly.

“Have a seat,” she said.  “Did you bring your driver’s license?”  She continued printing “DRA on the name tag and attached a red circle under the name.

“Yes.  I have it right here,” I said, digging into my pocket.  I handed it to her and sat in a vacant chair.

Evelyn alternately looked at my driver’s license and the page of her notebook, writing down the information she needed.  “Do you know about the fees?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Sandra told me.  Is this the right amount?” I asked, handing her the bills I had stashed in my pocket.

“Yep, right on the nose,” she confirmed.  “Glad to have you here tonight.  What’s your position?” she asked, reaching for another name tag.

Again ignorance silenced me, and again Sandra came to my rescue.  “She’s a Bottom, but tonight she’s an Observer.”

After printing my name on the tag, Evelyn peeled a green, self-adhesive circle from a sheet and placed it carefully under my name.  “There,” she said.  “You’re officially an Observer.  And Sandra, here’s yours.”  After peeling the backing off them, she handed us the name tags, which we pasted to our shirts.

“Well, let’s get you introduced around,” John said to me.  “Come this way.”

He led us into a large, high-ceilinged living room where several small groups of people sat on sofas and in armchairs, chatting on different subjects.  He went up to each group and introduced me.  I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh in an adjoining room.  “Now I’ll introduce you to my wife,” John said, leading us in the direction of the sound.  Only two people were in the room, a woman with her dress up over her back and her panties down around her knees, and a man across whose lap she was lying as he repeatedly spanked her with his hand.  Her arms were folded under her head, her chin resting on the uppermost hand. “Hi, Honey,” she said cheerily, followed by “Ow, Keith,” as she looked back at the man.

“Aw, did that hurt?” said her punisher, rubbing her bottom gently.

“Hi, Joyce,” John greeted his wife, planting a kiss on her hair.  “I want to introduce our new member, Sandra’s friend Randy.  Randy, this is my wife, Joyce.”

“Hi, Randy.  Forgive me for not getting up,” she apologized, “but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right,” I said, smiling.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

Then John instructed, “Now, Keith, you know Joyce only likes to be spanked when she deserves it and when she doesn’t.  And she only likes it hard or harder.  Keep that in mind, will you?”

“Sure ’nough, John,” Keith agreed, smacking Joyce more forcefully, which made her bury her face in the bedspread.

“Jnmm?” she said, the sound muffled by bedclothes.

“Yes, dear?” her husband answered.

She lifted her head toward him and observed, “You’re not helping.”

“Okay, Hon.  I’ll just run along and do some more introductions.”  He patted her shoulder gently in parting.

As we moved toward the door, John explained, “Don’t worry, Randy.  She loves it.  Joyce and I have been married for 34 years, and we’ve known Keith for 20.  He knows she likes it hard, but he won’t overdo it.  She’s in good hands.  Or undergood hands, you might say.”  I chuckled.

We followed John out into the living room.  Ever the tour guide, he suggested, “Let’s go upstairs and see what kind of action there is.  It’s usually a lot.” As the three of us trooped up the grand staircase, I thought how bizarre the scene was that I had just witnessed.  A guy was spanking another guy’s wife, and she and both guys were as happy as larks.

 

We got to the top of the stairs and heard a variety of sounds of hitting going on.  In the first room on the left, there was a queen-sized bed.  Three of its sides contained women who were being spanked, two by men and one by a woman.  The two Bottoms being spanked by men were prone on the bed while their Tops were standing up and using leather implements of differing types on their bare buttocks.  On the far side of the bed, the woman Top had her victim across her lap, spanking her with a rather small, brown-and-tan-striped wooden paddle that brought repeated flinches and protests.

“Ouch, Vivian.  That hurts,” she wailed.

“Of course it hurts, Kim.  It’s a spanking.  It’s punishment.  It’s supposed to hurt.  How many is that?”

“Twelve,” Kim answered.  She sniffled.

“And how many are left?”

“Thirteen.”

“Very good,” Vivian acknowledged.  “Hold still.” She swung the paddle again, causing Kim to flinch.  And again.

I looked at one of the other women.  The man spanking her was using a doubled-over strap that made a loud slapping sound.  The woman’s panties were pulled up so that both cheeks were exposed and fabric was between them.  She was lying still and looked quite serene.  “Hi, John,” she greeted our guide.  “Have you played yet?”

“Hi, Lani.  No, not yet.  Right now I’m showing our new member around.  Randy, this is Lani.  Lani, Randy is a neighbor of Sandra’s.  They’ve lived three doors down from each other and been pals for five years, and today they learned something new about each other.”

Lani smiled at me.  “Hi, Randy.  I hope you have a good time.  This is a great bunch of people.  I see you’re an Observer tonight.  That’s fine.  No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Thanks,” I replied.  “It’s certainly different.  I’m not used to any of this.”

“That’s okay.  All of us attended our first party once upo—OW, Curtis!  Is that what you were trying to get me to say?  All right, you got your wish.”  To me, she resumed, “As I was saying before I was so painfully interrupted, we were all new and going to our first party once upon a time.  Soon, you’ll be an ‘old hand.’ ”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” I answered.  Seeing that John had turned and was moving toward the door, I said, “See you later.”

John said, “The woman doing the spanking in there is Vivian.  She’s a Top, and she’s Kim’s Domme.  I imagine Kim got herself into trouble, although being her Domme, Vivian can spank her anytime she wants to, for whatever reason.”

We moved down the hall, peeking into different rooms as we went.  We passed one room where a man wearing a T-shirt stood beside the bed, bent over with his hands flat on the bedspread.  I saw that his pants and undershorts were down around his ankles.  A woman was using a switch of some kind on his bare bottom with much force and just as much accuracy.  Several parallel lines marked the skin, and she was in the process of adding another one below them.  “Eight,” he counted.

I asked John, “Another Domme?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied.  “Laura is a Top, but I think she’s just giving Eric what he likes.  He likes it when his Top makes him count.  They’re both regulars at our parties, but I don’t think they have a Domme/sub relationship.”

“What was she hitting him with?” I wanted to know.

“A cane,” John said.  “It looked like a Delrin cane.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Canes were originally rattan.  Delrin is a synthetic material that resembles rattan in weight and size, but it’s virtually unbreakable.  It’s very bendable, though.”

John then suggested that we go back downstairs to socialize some more.  At the head of the staircase, I noticed a table with snacks on it, including cheese and crackers, a fruit plate, and cookies.  John grabbed a few grapes, Sandra and I each took a cookie, and we started down the stairs.  When we got to the first floor, I saw another table with similar snacks on it that hadn’t been there earlier.  I snagged another cookie.

John turned to me.  “Well, what do you think so far, Randy?”

“It’s all so strange,” I said.  “I had no idea this kind of thing existed.  It just never occurred to me.”

Sandra, who had been quiet all during our brief tour, voiced her agreement.  “I never knew it existed, either, until I got into the same kind of conversation you and I had today.  It’s opened up a whole new world for me.”

John said, “That’s true for all of us.  Our group can be found online, but you have to know where and how to look.  If you just google ‘Elements,’ you’ll pull up the periodic table!  You can’t find us by accident.  You have to be looking.”

“Speaking of which,” Sandra said, “I’m going to hunt up Keith.  We have a ‘play date’ scheduled.  I’ll see if he’s finished with Joyce.”  She moved toward the first room we had visited.

“Randy, why don’t you wander around and mingle?” John suggested to me.  “You can ask questions and get to know some of the people.  And remember, if you decide you want to be more than an Observer, and your bottom needs a Top, there are several available, including me.”

“Thank you, John.  I know you’re making such a gracious offer out of the goodness of your hand—I mean heart,” I replied, grinning.

“Ah, now I see you’re getting into the ‘swing’ of things,” he retorted.  “See you later.” He followed in the same direction Sandra had gone, just as Joyce was coming out of the room.  She reached up to hug her husband as he put his arms around her.  “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” she answered.  “After I get a drink and rest for a while, will you do me next?

“My dear, I would do you anytime, anywhere, and love every minute of it,” John lovingly assured his wife.

As they started walking into the kitchen, I went to the room where Sandra had gone.  She was on the near side of the bed, her slacks and panties down to her knees, lying across Keith’s lap.  He was just about to begin spanking her.

I decided to go back upstairs.  I paused at the foot of the stairs for a cracker and cheese and then continued up to the second floor.  In the room we had visited earlier, Lani was hugging Curtis, her Top, and thanking him.  The other man and the woman he had been spanking were gone.  Vivian and Kim were sitting on the far side of the bed, where Kim had lain earlier.  She was crying, and Vivian held her, smoothing her hair and softly talking to her.  I left the room and moved down the hallway, exploring.  The man who was being caned earlier was now lying prone on the bed, being whipped with a belt.  I heard him say “nineteen” as I walked past.  The next room I came to was vacant, but the light was on.  Proceeding down the hallway, I came to a room occupied by six women.  Three were Tops, and the other three were Bottoms.  The Bottoms were on the near side, the foot of the bed, and the far side, and the Tops stood over them, each holding a leather strap.  One of the Tops was instructing the women about the spankings they were going to receive. It looked like some sort of ritual, because the three Tops were dressed alike and the three Bottoms were naked.  I was both frightened and mesmerized.

I went back downstairs to the room I had just left, where Keith was spanking Sandra with his hand.  Her chin rested on her hands.  She was absolutely still, though it seemed he was hitting her pretty hard.  I asked if I could come in, and Keith said, “Sure.  You can watch all you want.  You want to come over here so you and Sandra can talk?”  He indicated an open space on the bed close to her head.

I moved over there and asked Sandra how she was doing.

“Fine,” she said.  “It feels wonderful.  This is an excellent way to release the tension of the work week.  Have you come across anything interesting yet?”

“Oh, it’s all interesting,” I answered.  “So interesting, in fact, that I’m getting very jealous.  I’m going to have to become an un-Observer.  I want a whipping so bad I can almost feel it, and the ‘almost’ is driving me crazy.”

“I know that feeling well,” Sandra sympathized.  A light bulb seemed to go on in her eyes.  “I know what you ought to do.  Go upstairs and find Allen.  He was supposed to have taken three gals upstairs right before we got here.  Maybe he can work you in.  You’ll like his style.  He starts slow and easy, which would be great for you since you haven’t played in a while.  Then he gets harder and a little faster, but the way he does it it’s easy to take, even if you’re not used to it.  We always recommend him to new Bottoms.”

“On your expert referral, I’ll do just that.  Thanks, Sandra.”  I turned and left the room, heading for the stairs.  I snagged a few grapes and marched purposefully up the staircase.  I knew that this Allen person wasn’t in any of the rooms I had looked in earlier, so I went beyond those doors to the next one on the left.  I could see two women sitting on the bed, and I could hear spanking happening.  Stepping into the room, I saw that the man had the other woman—the third one—across his lap, spanking her somewhat forcefully.  Her slacks and panties were down around her knees, and he was spanking her bare buttocks.  She squirmed a little with each blow but didn’t make a sound.  He looked up to see who had just walked in, and he froze in mid-spank.

I froze in mid-thought.  Allen.  Allen Saunders, M.D.  My gynecologist!  I blurted out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.  I’m Randy.  Sandra suggested that I see you for a spanking because I’m new.  Allen, right?”  I had never in sixteen years of being his patient called him anything but Dr. Saunders.

He beamed.  “Yes, that’s right.  I’m pleased to meet you, Randy.  And I’m pleased that Sandra would refer you to me.” ‘Refer.’ Doctor talk.  ‘Refer me to him.’

I could see that he was going along with it, so I would do the same.  “So I can just make myself comfortable and wait?”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “Hop up here and wait till Jenny and I are done here.”  He patted the bed behind where he was sitting.  I went around and climbed up beside the other two women.

One of those said, “We’ve already played.  We’re just waiting for Jenny.  Sort of the Three Musketeers.”  I nodded understanding.

After four or five minutes, he stopped spanking Jenny and asked, “Well, how was that?”

“Very nice,” she replied.  “I feel great.”

He helped her climb off his lap and stand up.  He reached for her panties and pulled them up to the proper level as she adjusted her legs to assist.  Then he caught the waistband of her pants, first with one hand and then the other, and began pulling them up, while she again wiggled to accommodate his movements.  He stood up, and they hugged affectionately.  She thanked him for spanking her and he told her how much he enjoyed doing it.  She went around the bed and sat close to me.

Dr. Saunders—Allen—said, “I’ll take a short break to rest and get some fluids in me, and then you and I can start, Randy.”  ‘Fluids.’  More doctor talk.  He went into the bathroom and turned on the water at the sink.  “He was washing his hands between patients!”  Oh, for the love o’ Mike.”

He reached for a hand towel and stood in the doorway of the bathroom looking at the other women and me, drying his hands like some TV surgeon in the OR.  He replaced the towel on a rack and came back into the room.  “Okay.  You ready?” he asked me.

I felt extremely awkward.  “Hold on, now.  Wait just a doggone minute.  I happen to know you’re a married man.  I don’t have any intention of pursuing this activity with a married man.  That kind of scandal holds no attraction for me.”

He frowned.  “I see what you mean.  It could be a really messy situation,” he acknowledged.  “That is, if my wife weren’t sitting right here.”  He indicated Jenny.

She extended her hand.  “Jenny Saunders, RNP.  Pleased to meet you.”

I looked from him to her, and then back at him, and back at her, sticking out my hand like a zombie.  My chin was on my chest for the second time that day, as Jenny briefly gripped my hand, grinning like a possum.

Matter-of-factly, Allen asked, “So do you want me to spank you or not?”

“I guess so,” I stammered.

“Well then, I think it would be nice to invoke an age-old tradition I just made up.  I think you and I should go from room to room, upstairs and downstairs, and invite everyone to gather in the downstairs living room to witness your first spanking here among the ‘Elements.’  ”

“Everyone?” I squeaked.

“Well, sure.  Why not?”

My mind raced.  “What makes you think you can get away with that?”

“Get away with it?” Allen asked.  “Who are you going to tell?  My wife is right here.”

“What about the hospital?  Surely you don’t think they would condone this behavior on the part of one of their prominent doctors.”

“Oh, I doubt I’ll get into too much trouble.  John is the CEO of the hospital, what used to be known as the hospital administrator.  Now, let me make it clear:  You will not be forced to take a spanking from anyone, Randy, but if you want to be spanked by me, those are the terms.”

My last argument had disintegrated.  It was tempting to say I didn’t want to be spanked at all, or to ask that someone else do it, but by now the seed had been planted in every fertile mind in the house.  I wanted it, and this was the only way I was going to get it tonight.  “Okay.”

“Okay what?” he tortured.

“Okay, A—.”  The name didn’t want to leave my throat.  “Okay, Allen.  Will you please spank me?”

“Atta girl.”  Then he whispered, “Such a good patient.” In a normal voice he instructed, “Come along, and we’ll rally the troops.”

Dr. Saunders and I went from one upstairs room to another, informing all occupants of the spanking that was going to take place downstairs.  I was eager, but at the same time I felt trapped.  When we had covered the second floor, we went downstairs and made the rounds there.

When everyone had been apprised of the latest goings-on, Dr. Saunders led me to a sofa that was the center item of the grouped furniture.  As if suddenly remembering the detail, he said, “Oh, there was just one more term I forgot.”

Resigned to my fate, I asked, “What’s that?”

He paused to get the full benefit of the word.  “Strip.”

I figured it didn’t make any difference now.  “Might as well.  You’ve seen me like that before.”  I began unbuttoning my shirt.

As he sat down, a chorus started chanting as if it were a TV show, ‘Ran-Dy, Ran-Dy, Ran-Dy.’ My shirt was off.  Down came the pants.  The chanting was getting a little irksome.

I put my hands on my hips and asked, just loud enough to be heard, “Why’re alla y’all lookin’ at me like I’m fresh meat?”  They burst into laughter as I removed my shoes, bra and then panties.  I lay across Dr. Saunders’ lap.  To him, I said, “This is the strangest day of my life.”

 

Salon.com article : Coming Out About Spanking

 

Readers,

One of my eagle-eyed, news-reading playmates sent me a link to this article, posted on Salon.com 9/9/2013. For most of us, it will read like a roadmap to ‘becoming a spanko’, but to those not familiar with the fetish, it’s a fresh and un-scary introduction into the inner workings of the Modern Spanko.

The author, Jason Webb (a penname), based in Austin, TX, takes his readers through the twists and turns of first interest to full-blown lifestyle – and takes vanillas on an informational, rational trip down fetish lane.

Read the full article below, and feel free to come back here to comment, if you’d like.

Dana

http://www.salon.com/2013/09/09/coming_out_about_spanking/

Adieu

 

Readers,

I first met Cali and Mr. H over three years ago, out in the middle of nowhere desert, to film for a new spanking video production company called The Spanking Court. They were filming at what was, at the time, the coolest spanking location I’d ever seen: several dedicated sets, including judge’s bench, plaintiff/defendant podiums, and even a ‘jail cell’! Not only were the sets great, but the owners, Cali and Mr. H, were just about some of the most friendly and welcoming folks with whom I’d ever worked.

After the first few Spanking Court shoots, they asked if I’d like to become a permanent part of the production – and invited my honey to do the same. We ended up becoming the Court Disciplinarian and Bailiff for the entire run of Spanking Court, doling out spankings to dozens of ladies (and a few men) who ran afoul of Judge Spanks.

Eventually, we moved to the Hollywood Production Studios in Los Angeles, before finally ending up in an enormous custom-built, multi-set space in Northern California – trust me, you’ve never seen anything like the creativity and time that went into this place…amazing. One thing that always stayed the same was the level of work put into this endeavor by our friends and their genuine kindness to anyone with whom they worked.

We had the great good fortune of working with some of the nicest, most professional, and FUN people during our shoots, including the unforgettable Erica Scott, Christy Cutie, Ten Amorette, Cheyenne Jewel, Casey Calvert, and our very own VBB and WW, to name just a few.

Eventually, Cali and Mr. H also created Sternwood Academy – an all-girl’s academy which focused on education, manners, and lots and LOTS of spankings. Again, there were many beautiful and talented participants, top and bottom, and they ended up producing three full-length DVD releases of Sternwood Academy.

A couple months ago, we received a call from our wonderful friends informing us that their vanilla business had taken off like a rocket – great news for them, sad news for the spanking video world – and that there just wasn’t enough time in their current schedule to continue producing spanking content. While we were naturally thrilled for them and their success, we are more than a little sad to see SC and Sternwood come to an end, and will miss the amazing times we had with everyone involved.

Sincerest thanks and enormous love to Cali and Mr. H, and to all the fabulous folks who participated and watched…we had a blast!

–  Dana

Spanko Distractions #7 : Crossword

 

 

Screen shot 2013-09-19 at 9.01.17 AM

 

ACROSS

3 NOT a guy from Delaware.
7 Dual use implement.
9 Hit this.
12 Bad girls and boys get this.
13 Lovable scamp
14 A vacation for your brain.
15 What you’re likely in.
16 The best color.

DOWN

1 What you should be over.
2 An absolute necessity.
4 Not nice.
5 Almost everyone wants them.
6 Let it fit the crime.
8 No peeking!
10 What brats don’t want to do.
11 THE word

A Spanko Blast from the Periodical Past

 

Readers,

One of my adventurous playmates, who’s had his fair share of spanking experience over the years, was kind enough to gift me some of his prized spanking materials collection – several pristine magazines which I hadn’t previously seen. These are classic spanko periodicals, and I am tickled by his generous gesture. So tickled, in fact, that I had to share a couple snapshots here:

He said he’d brought me ‘a couple things’, so I was surprised when he pulled out this stack of awesome spanko history –

with titles like Strictly Woman to Woman Spanking, Over Her Knee!,

I Remember When, and Firm Forceful Femmes:

IMG_20130915_082744

This one stuck out immediately, as it features my spanking shero,

Dana Specht:

IMG_20130915_082821

These magazines are, well….cool….and are full of reminders of our recent spanko past – video previews for the stunning Rebecca Brooks, photos of famous tops such as Christine Justice and Simone Devon, and chock full of dozens of spanking personal ads (WAY before the internet made it easy to hook up with spankos everywhere, anywhere).

Naturally, we started talking about the pre-internet era – ordering VHS tapes through the mail with money orders (those early spanking tapes were $90 apiece!), scanning printed personals for like minds, and the excitement of seeing a Spanking Story in the Playboy magazine or Penthouse Forum.

As I wasn’t even aware of the larger spanko community back then, listening to his stories was a real eye-opener, and I’m curious how many other spanking fetishists have similar tales of cashing the weekly paycheck ASAP, in order to rush out and mail that money order for Nu-West’s latest VHS release…

Were those the Good Old Days, or is this – internet, social media, short-attention-span – the Golden Era?

– Dana

Chores

 

Readers,

We’ve talked before about non-corporal punishment/discipline, so I thought I’d share this photo with you:

IMG_20130829_122527

 

Here’s Angel, surrounded by the FIRST batch of my spanking implements which she was instructed to clean and organize as part of her ongoing discipline. As you can see, the wood implements are piled in front, with leathers to her right and non-traditionals to her left. This does not include the many dozen more canes, delrin implements, large paddles and other sundry items contained in the closet behind her. 

I should mention that ALL of these implements were already clean, as they always are, because I clean them myself after each use. This was a lesson in time-wasting – having to do a task which is completely unnecessary – and how it can be avoided by making the right choices *before* you find yourself in trouble.

I’m pleased to say that not only did Angel survive her cleaning assignment, but my implement closet is now in quite the state of order….although I can’t be certain that she hasn’t hidden at least one.

 

–  Dana

Conversations with Spankos : You’re Doing It Wrong

 

Readers,

A recent Conversation about Fantasy vs. Reality spawned another line of thought – and an excellent one, at that.

What happens if, as a spanko, you’re lucky enough to :

a) be in a relationship

b)have a partner who’s open to spanking, if not an all-out spanko, and

c)have the opportunity to be spanked relatively regularly by said partner

but…

They suck at it?

 

We’ve all had less-than-perfect spankings, where the spanker chose an intensity, rhythm, or implement which wasn’t necessarily tops on our list; I’m not talking about the occasional imperfect scene.

I mean, what does one do when, no matter how many times they try, the spanker just can’t manage to pull a good spanking out of their hat to save his or her life?

It sounds like I’m being glib about this, and maybe a little levity is a Good Thing, because this seems like a Big Problem to me. When practice *doesn’t* make perfect – what do you say? 

Back in the days when my ego would still tolerate a spanking, I threw out a couple “Umm, what exactly are you doing back there” ‘s, and maybe a few “Yeah, this isn’t going to work” ‘s, to boot. A hard spanking was tolerable, but a bad one wasn’t. Ever. (It’s fair to mention that these were not relationship-partner spankings, so I wasn’t terribly emotionally attached to the spanker’s response.)

But what about when the spankee IS emotionally attached to the spanker’s response? What if the spankee, as my aforementioned playmates (who definitely do not have an issue in the how-well-she-spanks dept.), is the only spanko in the equation, and doesn’t want to ‘look a gift spanking in the paddle’, so to speak?

I’m interested in hearing about how other spankos have handled this delicate situation, and I’m sure that your fellow readers are, too…

 

–  Dana

New Spanking Story Contest : Spanking Party STAR!

 

Readers,

Welcome to the new Spanking Story Contest. This month, our Person, Place, and Thing theme will take us to a fictional spanking party, with lots of happy spanko revelers, where YOU are the star of the party…at least for one spanking : 

Write a story about a spanking that YOU either give, or receive, at this hopping spanking party. Are you an adventurous top, an exhibitionist switch, or a first-time party bottom? Are there three people watching…or 100? Use your imagination, and write your story about :

YOU

At your most fabulous fantasy spanking party:

…either spanking or being spanked in front of an audience.

11

Read Before Writing : 

  • No depictions of characters or references to characters under the age of 18 years.
  • This is a Spanking story, not a sex and cursing story. While some leeway is given here, it’s best to keep it clean.
  • Don’t plagiarize, cheat, or otherwise manipulate the contest. Cheaters will be publicly shamed.
  • Characters may be of any gender, and any spanking genre(s) (i.e. F/M, F/F, M/M, M/F, etc.).
  • For this month’s contest, entries should be written in First Person. (i.e. ‘I went to the party’, rather than ‘Sally went to the party’.)
  • Contest will end on September 30th. Winner announced on or around October 1.
  • Note that I alone, subjectively, choose the winning story entry. There is no set standard, but things like proper spelling and grammar, within reason, are required.
  • By entering, you agree to allow me to share/excerpt your story, here and elsewhere, in print and digital media.

The winner will receive a spanking session with me, in my hometown or any of the cities which I regularly visit.

If you’ve any questions, feel free to email me. All completed entries should also be emailed, either as part of the email’s text or as an attachment, to:

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

 

Have fun, and good luck!

 

–  Dana

New Product Testing Video: The Curse of Dana

Well, they’ve gone and done it now. 
Caneiac’s made a new implement – conveyor belt material encased in rubber – called The Curse of Dana. And yes, it’s pretty darned evil. 
The compliant boy featured in this video is a very heavy bottom, and most will find this implement particularly hard to handle. I, however, didn’t feel a thing.

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

Second story of the life of Amy (Historie, Part 2)


Readers,

Here is the second part of the story begun last week, ‘Historie’, by new author, Annika. As the first part received excellent feedback, Annika has chosen to share the rest of the story. Here is part two:


*****

Second story of the life of Amy

The marks on my bottom were visible for a couple of days. I was very aware of them, and avoided to change cloth or take a bath in the present of others. I was embarrassed, but secretly fascinated. And that fascination was a part I was afraid to share with anyone. What would people think??
I still listened to techno, but only with headphones on, and every time the song Confusing was going to start, I skipped it. I didn’t skip the other two songs in fact I paid more attention to them.  And for some reason the songs always placed a big smile on me. The feelings inside of me were very confusing, because on the one hand I didn’t want to get in to trouble again in risk of being spanked, but on the other hand the immense feeling of inner peace, affection, security and even love was what I was left with, and I desperately wanted. I knew exactly what I could do, because my aunt did instruct me in the house rules. But it would be too obvious, if I took a bottle of wine, and stood in front of her and emptied that. The worst thing that could happen would be, if she knew, that I deliberately wanted her to spank me. She would probably pack my things and send me off to Denmark again. And was it really fair towards her? To force her into a situation where she had to cause someone pain?
So I pushed my feelings aside, and focused on the daily life again. Attending school, helping in the household, and being a good girl. My mom back in Denmark was overwhelmed by my grades, and even asked me once, why I couldn’t be like that, when I lived in Denmark……of course I didn’t tell her “Well mom maybe you should have been more aware of your role as a parent instead of trying being my friend, and a spanking now and then wouldn’t have hurt…..or maybe it would have…..”. Instead I just told her a lie about, how different and much better the school system was in the USA. 
I wasn’t scared of my aunt. I respected her, and liked to keep her happy. She was very interested in me and my doings, and was concerned. We talked a lot about things I would never had talked with my mom about, and I felt she stood behind me in any situation needed, I just had to be honest.
My aunt travelled a lot, her work required that, but I was ok with that. She always checked in on me.
It does sound as if the one spanking prevented me from doing stupid things, but fact is, that someone had to tell her about my mistakes before it really would become a problem, and who else than me should tell her?? She didn’t know that we sometimes at school exploited our differences so we had time to do other things than homework. I was good in math, so I delivered school assignments in math some of the others had biology, geography or whatever as their favorite subject. Well we did have to do the tests by our self, and the teachers did wonder why some didn’t seem to hold the standard. I did, so it was one of the well kept secrets.

Alcohol was not a theme in my life anymore, at least not until one day. My aunt was away on a business trip, and I was hanging out with some friends. The parents of my friend weren’t home, and we listened to loud music, played videogames, talked and just had a lot of fun. My friend opened a cupboard where his parents had stashed alcohol. He looked at us and smiled. “So anyone care for a drink…….”. My heart started to pump faster. I knew this was a thing my aunt certainly wouldn’t approve off, and the consequence would probably be severe. She wouldn’t be home before the end of the week, so I only had to make sure I wouldn’t drink so much, that it would be traceable over the phone, when she checked in on me. So like the others I did care for a drink….or two…..Time flew and I never noticed that my phone didn’t ring. I wasn’t drunk or anything, I felt in control, I just didn’t think about my phone. I went home that evening, felt so alive, happy and very much like the old Amy, untouchable.
When I saw the lights were lit in the house, I froze. My brain tried to remember if it was me, who had forgotten to turn them off, but of course I knew better. I started to create an explanation (lie) I could tell her, so she wouldn’t notice that I had been drinking. I took some deep breath and went inside. She was walking around unpacking her things, and when she noticed me she just said “Hi sweety, yes I know, my trip got a bit shorter than expected”. She looked at me, and I just stared back at her, saying nothing. Not even hi, which might have been smart in that situation. Well her smile changed to a more serious expression, when she asked me “what is wrong, you don’t seem right??”. I finally woke up, and replied, that I was just fine, I was just surprised to see her here. She still looked at me but shortly after changed back to a smile. The story I had in my head was gone, it disappeared as soon I laid my eyes on her, and I felt lucky that she seemed to be more interested in unpacking, than noticing me sneaking inside, holding my breath.
I passed her, on my way to my room, and just before getting to the stairs, she suddenly said “Amy, did you know that some alcohol, have a kind of sweet scent to it??” Once again I froze. “Did you really think you could hide this??”. I didn’t reply “yes I did, because you weren’t supposed to be home now…..”. Instead I just stood there overwhelmed with mixed emotions. I was scared, I was excited, and I thank god she didn’t see my face, because I was fighting not to smile.
“Amy I am very disappointed, I didn’t expect this kind of behavior from you, and I wonder what you have been doing all the other times I haven’t been around” “GO to your room, and get ready, and I can assure you, you will prefer to stand up the next few days at school”

It felt like ages before she came, but every footstep I could hear up the stairs, made my heart sink deeper to my stomach. I wasn’t smiling anymore, and I searched naïve after a getaway, realizing there were none. She came in to my room, looking straight at me, and then lifted her hand in which she carried a wooden brush. “this used to be your grandmoms, I inherited it, probably because she knew, I would find some use for it, and believe me I know what it is capable of”…….At that point I wished I hadn’t been holding back on the drinking, I should have drunk myself numb. But nooooo, instead the situation had made me very sober. So no place for me to hide, I had to get through this, with some kind of dignity.
She went over to my bed, sat on it and ordered me over her lap. I tried with a silent, please and pledging eyes, but she just shook her head replying “mh, mh”. So once again there I was, over her lap waiting for the first hit. The sting of the wooden brush was unbearable. She was very annoyed with me, so the rhythm was steady and the strength was hard. There were no breaks, and I think I started to cry after a few minutes. I cannot really tell because I lost traction of time. When she stopped, I started breathing again, but she wasn’t done. Instead she started to give me a lecture about how much damage consuming of alcohol can do to the body and the ability to learn things. She put the hairbrush aside, and then claimed that the rest of the spanking (hand) was for me to remember not to do this again…..as if the first part of it wasn’t enough……In the end my bottom was numb, which I think she knew, cause the last two were given to the top of my legs.
“Amy I know you probably find me very unfair, but this is for your own good, and one day you will understand” “Can I trust you not to get into trouble, when I am away on business trips???”…..”Yes”…….”I am sorry”…….”I know you are…..go to sleep, and a new day will start tomorrow”
I didn’t wear any underpants that night, and I didn’t really get that much sleep either, not because of the pain or the heat of my bottom, I just didn’t understand how on earth, this could be a thing I actually had wanted to happen, how weird was I???…….but at the same time I could breathe, I was focused, I was me…..  
A

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

Your Opinion – another spanking fiction ebook?


Readers,

Looking back on the totality of this blog, I’ve become even more aware of the talent shown in many of the spanking stories you have submitted. Rereading many of them, I’m again amazed at the sheer volume and quality of original spanking fiction that’s passed through the blog, from a lot of really dedicated writers.

So I’m tossing around an idea for a large compilation – an ebook – of great spanking stories.

The book would be a mix of reader-submitted stories and requested new writings from some of my favorite spanking authors.

What do you think, readers? Can the world handle another spanking ebook? I’d love your opinions on content, viability, and design. Especially if you’re a fan of spanking fiction – what draws you to the genre? And what story aspects do you consider integral?

Also, which stories already posted here are your favorites, and why?

–  Dana

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

Vote for the Marital Discipline photo contest

Readers,

The time has come to cast your vote for the winner of the Marital Discipline photo contest!

Below,  you’ll find all the qualifying entrants – male and female – posted in random order, each with an accompanying number. At the bottom of the page, vote for your favorite.

*  Voting ends October 15th.

*  Comments will be moderated – be nice, or go away.

*  Only vote once. Cheaters will be publicly shamed.


This month’s photo contest winner will receive a Marital Discipline with Dana Kane DVD!
*****

Marital Discipline photo contest Entrants:

Bottom # 1


Bottom # 2


Bottom # 3


Bottom # 4


Bottom # 5



Bottom # 6


Bottom # 7

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

F/M spanking fiction writers, share your work with Anastasia Vitsky


Readers,

Anastasia Vinsky publishes a blog called governing ana, at governingana.wordpress.com.
While Ana’s blog writings are now offline – as she’s been offered a book deal for her work – she is now hosting other writers of published F/M spanking fiction on her blogsite on select Mondays.

The feature is called ‘Fika’ (see Ana’s blog for the definition – it’s fun!), and the first installment is called ‘Celeste Jones on eBooks for Newbies’.

If you’re interested in being featured on Anastasia’s Fika Monday’s, send an introductory email to Ana, at:

ana_stasia2007@yahoo.com

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

Factoids: Totally non-spanking-related


Readers,

While I should likely be hard at work on some more interesting blog post, video editing project, or email back-up, my mind is still on east coast time and there’s not much brilliance sparking upstairs this very early Las Vegas morning.

So.

Since it’s nearly my birthday, I think I’ll allow myself a few minutes of mindless self-involvement – although it should be noted that I have been asked about my height and musical preferences more often than not.

So here’s one of those “Things you don’t know about me” things…

1. I am 5’8″ tall. (This comes as a surprise to many of my playmates upon our first meeting, and I’m not sure why. Do I look short?)

2.  I wear a size 8 shoe.

3. Jeans and sneakers are my preferred everyday wardrobe.

4. While most of them are usually covered, I have a LOT of tattoos – and I love every single one of them.

5.  I am the crazy cat lady.

6. Good books make me very happy. I’ve avoided the Kindle craze thus far, as printed pages are a large part of the joy of reading for me.

7.  I’m from Texas. Ya’ll.

8.  I usually cut my own hair. That’s why it looks the way it does. Ha!

9.  Believe it or not, I absolutely HATE to fly.

10.  I don’t wake up well.

11.  Talking on the telephone is not on my list of favorite things to do.

12.  I love to sing, although I am decidedly not good at it. Most all music has the capacity to charm me.

13.  I also love to dance. (See above)

14.  Shopping malls make me claustrophobic.

15.  Most embarrassingly, I buy People magazine nearly every week.


Now, back to spanking…

–  Dana

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

‘Historie’ – a beautiful F/F story from a talented first time writer

Here is an excellent offering from a lovely new correspondent, who’s trying her hand at spanking fiction for the first time.
Please take a moment to leave a comment and some encouragement for our new author.

– Dana

*****

‘Historie’

My name is Amy. I was born in Denmark, and lived there the first * years of my life. My mom, who is an American, chose to send me of to live with my aunt in the USA, because like she said, I was out of control, and she had no living idea what to do with me. 
Of course I didn’t agree with her, because I was just living the life like every other teenager in Denmark. Having a lot of fun, listening to music, attend parties and yes drinking maybe a lot of alcohol. School was, well, a place to hook up with my friends. Teachers where just like my mom, someone who tries to talk sense, someone who sometimes tries to threaten with various of consequences, but never follows through, so why bother listening to any of them. 
It is not like my mom haven’t tried to be strict, and she did spank me once, when I was around 4 years old. I guess she believed that would be enough to keep me out of trouble, because she then just needed to threaten me with a spanking……didn’t work at all, it was empty threats, and by the way I think it really did hurt her more than it did me. 
Well she figured that by sending me to USA, I would have to reorganize friendships, and maybe meet youngsters who would have a good influence on me, school might be taken more serious and I wouldn’t be able to drink alcohol, because of different rules in the USA. My aunt, who she often talked about, because she was such a successful consultant, was a person I only had met to times in my life. I don’t really remember that much about her, besides she had dark hair like the rest of the family. 
When I met my aunt in the airport, I was surprised by her unique beauty. I had expected to see a boring housewife, just like my mom, but she was dressed in a knee long black skirt, a red shirt, that showed her perfect shaped body and high heels, in which I would probably get injured if I tried to walk in them. 
She was looking straight at me, smiling and then she gave me a big hug. A hug I didn’t know I was longing for. So already at that point my world started to break in to pieces. 
I was not usually the shy type, but in her present, I felt very small. It annoyed me, because I was the one, who was in charge back in Denmark. I knew exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it, and what to do to get it. I took another look at her, and tried to convince myself, that I had nothing to be nervous about. She was just my aunt, and was probably not that different then my mom. After all they are sisters….
I couldn’t have been more wrong. When we returned to her apartment, she showed me my room, and told me to unpack, eventually take a bath if I felt like it, and then she would like to talk to me in the kitchen. I did what she said, went to the kitchen, where she was waiting. Again she looked straight at me, and smiled. She explained with her gently voice the rules of the house, and what she expected of me. I just sat there listening to her words, thinking “what am I doing here”. Yeah fine I am not allowed to drink alcohol…..as if I could get some. Focus on school…. well I don’t have anything else to do…..at least for the moment….basically the same song I had heard before…..until she said, “And Amy, I will only tell you this once, I don’t believe in empty threats, if you break a rule, you will receive a spanking”. I instantly wanted to laugh, because hey I was ** just as big as she was. I managed not to laugh because when I got eye contact with her, I didn’t dare to laugh. 
Everything was new for me, so the rules weren’t difficult to respect, I had no interest in getting into trouble in the beginning. I had to find new friends, find out how the school system worked, and figure out where I was in all of this. 
I observed my aunt a lot, and she didn’t seem that strict. She was actually very funny, open minded, and relaxed in some way. She seemed to be in balance with herself, which had a very comforting effect on me. I started to accept that I was going to live here, and started to see my room as my place, a place where I could start doing things I used to do back home in Denmark, like listening to music, music which might not be every ones favorite. Techno, was the kind of music I used to listened to. Music, that soon got a very different meaning to me.
 I was in my room listening to it. It was loud, because that’s just best like that, and after a few songs, my aunt came to the room. She asked me to turn it down, I did, but after a few songs, one of my favorites was played and I turned the sound up again. She came turned the music off, looked firm at me, and said “this is the last time I will ask you to turn it down, if I have to come again, you will get a spanking”. Then she walked out of there. SOOO it was up to me now, would I let her dictate what I should listen to and how loud, and would she really spank me? After all I was not a little child, and who knew maybe she was like everyone else…..so the music started to play again, not loud in the beginning, I could barely hear it myself, slowly it got louder. Nothing happened, so I took place at my desk, smiling because I was once again in control. I didn’t hear her entering the room…..the music was too loud……but I did notice the sudden silence in the room, after she had turned it off. Inside I was shaking, I was afraid to turn around, I got hot and cold at the same time, and the little girl in me, just wanted to beg for forgiveness, but the big girl said no way, you face her, and win this battle. She broke the silence, again with a controlled voice, telling me to turn around and look at her. I didn’t want to, but my body just reacted on the command. She went over to my bed, sat on it, and told me that she did warn me, but I obviously wanted to test her, so I left her with no other choice then to spank me. In fact she was going to spank me to the rhythm of my so called music. Maybe I would understand why that music gave her a headache. So three songs should do it, now where I am not that used to be spanked…..Three songs…..I knew all of my songs on the disc, and knew that most of them, only lasted for 3 min. I could win this. I might be able to get through this without crying because I am tough. 
She commanded me to get over her lap, I did. She then turned the music on. I held my breath, and had no idea what was coming to me. The first song, called Liebe by Ayla, which means Love in German, one of my favorites, was playing. 2.55 min. Sadly it’s a fast beat, but all of the songs have a fast beat, so I was really struggling not to start cry, which I felt like doing shortly after she started. I had never felt a pain like that, and I desperately tried to focus on the music to forget the pain. First song was over. She asked me to drop my pants, I tried to say something, but she just looked at me, and repeated “drop your pants, or do you want a fourth song??” I dropped my pants, got over her lap again, and the music started…..Her hand spanked my bottom perfectly to the rhythm of  L´esperanza by Topmodelz. She was fair though, because every time the beat wasn’t pumping she took a break. It just doesn’t happen that often……I managed it through the second song, and was convinced I would win this I was already near the end. What I didn’t realize or noticed was that the music shuffled, so the next and last song was from the soundtrack Blade called Confusion. When it started to play every single part of me gave up, this was going to be 10 minutes of hell. After very short time, I started to beg like a little girl, promising I would never play that kind of music again. I would do anything just for her to stop. The tears where pouring out of me and I could barely breath. Then it was all done. She lifted me off her lap, so I was sitting on my knees in front her. I looked down on the floor, still crying like a little baby. She gently stroked my hair, and used her hands to make me look at her. She was calm, as if it was the most natural thing that just had happened. She then said “Amy, I hope you understand now, that I don’t use empty threats, I care about you, and it is my responsibility that you will become a fine young woman. You can listen to your music, but you do not live here alone, okay??” I nodded. She then kissed my forehead, and left my room. 
Here I was, with a really sore bottom, it was dark red and burning. And another piece of my world broke, because why wasn’t I angry at her, why didn’t I hate her, why did I suddenly feel like belonging somewhere?  
   
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

New! October Spanking Story Writing Contest

For the month of October, the Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest will be:

The Spooky Spanking Story Contest


Imagine two Trick-or-Treaters,



on a country road at night,



and a mysterious book.


Now, go off and write a great, original spanking story, including all the details above – and use your imagination!


As is custom, the winning author will receive a spanking session with me – his or her ‘prize’.
The winner will be announced at the end of the month, and all qualifying story entries posted throughout the month of November for your reading pleasure.


And remember, Good Boys and Girls follow The Rules:

* NO references to characters under 18 years of age.
*NO overtly sexual situations or foul language.

Spanking scenes may be of any genre – F/M, F/F, M/F, M/M, etc.

Feel free to include as many or as few additional characters as you like, so long as the primary characters and characteristics are there.

By entering the contest, you agree to allow me to share, edit/excerpt your story, here and in other publishing platforms.

Send your entry to DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com.

Good writing, and Good luck!

–  Dana

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

Another year, another chance to thank you.


“They are passing, posthaste, posthaste, the gliding years – to use a soul-rending Horatian inflection. The years are passing, my dear, and presently nobody will know what you and I know.” – Vladimir Nabokov


October is my birthday month, and this year I am turning forty. 



Surprisingly, I do not find this even remotely intimidating (although forty-one may bring on a whole other group of emotions), and am looking forward to the myriad interesting things which the world and my body have in store for me in this second half of life.

This year, like every other, I am grateful for my (ever-so-small but fierce) family, and for my iron ring of loving and thoroughly-loved friends. I am also grateful every day for the wonderful playmates I’ve made through the years, and for all the cool and intelligent people with whom I have had the pleasure of communicating online and through this blog. You all enrich my life in ways that I cannot properly express. 

Thus far, this blog contains somewhere around 390 posts, over 100 original, reader-submitted spanking stories, nearly a dozen writing and photo contests, and many thousand of my own spanking-centered, rambling words.

I hope that each of you, kind enough to spend a little time participating in this blog, is aware of my genuine affection for you, and my gratitude. Thank you all.

– Dana

*****


(I only do this next part once a year, so indulge me. If you’re offended, click HERE.)


If you are interested in celebrating the impending birthday of a quite-possibly-virtual stranger, I humbly suggest the following two options, in order of importance:

Donate to Foreclosed Upon Pets, a Las Vegas animal rescue organization committed to saving the thousands of pets that are being abandoned in Las Vegas when homeowners lose their mortgages. These people are doing absolutely amazing work. (Or donate to your local animal charity instead.)

Or, peruse my Amazon wish list.


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

Another FREE spanking video featuring The VBB and his Wonderful Wife


Readers,

As severe as The Very Bad Boy’s delrin punishment may have been, within just a couple hours he was asking for more. And just when you might be thinking that I am too severe…his Wonderful Wife takes over and administers quite a hard spanking on his somewhat unmarked right cheek (since the left was out of commission) with wooden implements and even more delrin! Then she invites me back in to help her finish off the VBB’s bottom – again.

Of course, with this level of silliness on his part, we had to film it. And we had to share it with you. Believe it or not…he ASKED for this.

We all had a whole lot of fun, in spite of the somewhat serious infractions on his part, and we all hope you enjoy watching the videos.

–  Dana

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

New: ‘Marital Discipline’ Photo Contest!



Since the ‘Pic Your Bum’ contest generated several fun photo entries, and many, many votes – let’s have another, shall we?


‘Marital Discipline’ photo contest!


Take a photo of your bottom, post-spanking – or have your partner take one for you.
Send your photo entry to me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.


The winner of the ‘Marital Discipline’ photo contest will receive a Dana Kane Marital Discipline DVD, via US Mail.



* Your photo MUST BE post-spanking. While severe marks are not required (or recommended), some noticeable level of pinkness, at the least, must be visible.

* Self-spanking is allowed, if you are not one of the fortunate few who has a regular spanking playmate.

* Entrants may be of any gender.

*As in the previous ‘Pic Your Bum’ contest, all photo entries must contain a written statement – in this case, ‘Marital Discipline’ or some variation, so that it’s obvious that your entry photo was taken specifically for this contest.


* Be creative! The voting will be done by other blog readers, so use your imagination.

* The contest will last two weeks, after which I will post up the qualifying entries (anonymously, of course). Then readers will be given one week to vote on their favorite photo entry.

Have fun!

– Dana


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

DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday site update: 9/23

Live Session Video: Itching for a Spanking

ItchingforaSpanking1

You Cannot say F*ck in My House
Fuck2

POV: Come to Bed, Honey

POVCometoBedHoney-001

 

For more preview photos, scene descriptions, and download links, click the title links above or visit:
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Fantasy Island contest entry – F/M spanking stories

Here is another fun entry for the ‘Fantasy Island’ Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest – enjoy!

*****


My name is Carolyn and I am a 47 year old widow of a man who was 26 years older than me.  We had no children after 21 years of marriage and our estate was worth over 500 million dollars.  We even own an island 20 miles off of the coast of Tahiti.  I was 26 years old when we were married and was smitten by Douglas’ charm and class.  Our sex life left me wanting but Douglas was always kind and considerate.  I kept busy with volunteer activities and frequent visits to the gym where the men ogled me. I am 6′ tall in my stocking feet and weigh 140lbs.  with a well toned body.  I am told that I am very attractive.  I have red hair and brown eyes.  

After Douglas’ death my sexual desires were becoming an obsession.  I loved my husband but he was gone and I had desires that needed to fulfill.  One of Douglas’ employees was a 26 year old man who I would have fallen for when I was 26 years old.  Jonathan was a classical bad boy.  He was 5’5″ tall and not very athletic.  He was more pretty than handsome.  He had risen to a position of power in one of Douglas’ companies and commanded a very high salary.  

Alexis is a lawyer who specializes in sexual harassment cases and she was representing on a contingency basis some of my employees.  These employees complained about Jonathan’s unwanted sexual advances and his crude remarks.  She arranged a meeting with me and presented her case.  There was no doubt that our corporation could be liable for his behavior and that litigating the case would be futile so we agreed to a settlement.  

Alexis is a 29 year old blond bombshell.  She was over 6′ tall and had the firm body of an athlete.  She was involved in a relationship with her 25 year old roommate Megan.  Alexis didn’t like men and felt that most were pigs who would benefit from the firm hand of a woman.  When I assured h. er that Jonathan would be terminated Alexis had a better idea.  Jonathan would be given the choice of being terminated or going over my knee for a sound no nonsense spanking followed by a severe caning from her.  

I confided to Alexis that I was never spanked and have never spanked; but, I had seen my mother spank my younger brother who was 10 years younger than me and that I always went out of my way to witness his spankings and found them exciting.  Alexis told me that she was an expert spanker and that she had promised her young roommate a well deserved spanking when she returned home.  Alexis insisted that I accompany her home to witness the paddling.  

When we arrived at Alexis’ home her roommate, Megan, greeted us at the door.  She was dressed in tight jeans and a loose t-shirt which showed off her lovely figure.  Megan was 5’4″ tall with dark brown hair down to her shoulders and dark brown eyes.   She looked more like a college coed than a 25 year old.  Alexis ordered Megan to put the straight back chair in the middle of the room and to bring the paddle.  Alexis took off her suit jacket leaving her dressed in a pencil skirt with a white silk blouse, black stockings,  and 6″ heels.  She sit in the chair and smoothed her skirt which had risen to expose the tops of her black nylon stockings being stretched by her garters.  

When Megan returned she was in tears carrying a wicked looking oval paddle about 1/4″ thick with holes drilled in the business end.  As she handed the paddle to Alexis she begged not to be spanked too hard or long and promised to never again use Alexis’ charge card without permission.  Alexis told her that she was going to give her a good no nonsense spanking and that when she was finished that Megan would be a well spanked unhappy little girl and that she deserved the spanking she was going to get.  

Megan was ordered to Alexis’ right side and Alexis unbuckled and lowered Megan’s jeans exposing Megan’s white nylon panties.  As she placed her over her stocking clad knees Alexis adjusted her to her liking so that her bottom was directly across her lap.  Alexis proceeded to paddle the kicking girl over her panties as her t-shirt draped over her head and her jeans were kicked off her legs.  Alexis paused to remove the t-shirt and then resumed the paddling.  Megan’s screaming started in earnest as Alexis lowered her panties down to her knees and told her, “I haven’t ever really started yet”. Another series of spanks landed now alternating cheeks hard and fast.  Megan was gasping, squirming, and tears were running down her face as her spanking continued.  She was pleading for mercy.  Her bottom was bright red and her sobbing was harder, her makeup was streaked and her shoulder length hair was in disarray as she squirmed kicked and howled.  When Megan was finally   left off of Alexis’ lap she danced and skipped around the room holding her well spanked bottom while wearing only her bra with her panties around her knees.  

I was excited at the sight of Megan’s paddling when to my surprise Alexis told me that if I was to give Jonathan a good paddling that I would need to know exactly what a good spanking felt like.  I’m 47 years old and this 29 year old beauty was proposing to put me across her lap and paddle me like a 10 year old.  I knew that the paddling would be painful but the excitement of going over Alexis’ lap was alluring as I obediently draped myself over her knees and she raised my skirt exposing my stocking tops and lovely tush outlined by my garter belt.  I took my spanking no better than Megan but this convinced me that Jonathan needed to learn the same lesson over my knee.   

Our plan was to propose to Jonathan that we would go on a business retreat to my island off of the coast of Tahiti and that our attire would be from different decades of the past.  When we arrived at my island home Alexis was dressed in a stunning skin tight black dress with a pencil skirt, black nylon stockings, and 6″ heels.  I had a green satin gown out of the 30’s skin tight and below my knees with black stockings and heels.  Jonathan was dressed in a double breasted pin striped suit out of the 40’s.

When we arrived at the island Alexis did all of the talking and explained to Jonathan his options in her best legal language.  He would be paddled by me and be given a severe caning from her with a bamboo walking stick or be terminated.  He agreed to be disciplined and signed a waver that she had prepared.  

I went first and remembered how painful Alexis’ paddling had been and was determined that Jonathan’s experience across my satin clad lap would be just as painful.  He was stripped naked and draped across my green satin clad lap.  I told him that naughty boys sometimes need a firm female hand to keep them in line and that the little boy inside you needs a good spanking.  I am much stronger than Jonathan and had no trouble turning him over my lap for a good spanking.  I spaced about one second between spanks and could hear his squeals and promises to be good, kicking and sobbing,  after the first couple of spanks.  I felt a strange pleasure and release as I used Alexis’ paddle on his naked bottom.  He squirmed over my knee as I watched the red outline of her paddle with the holes in it appear on his bottom.  His bottom turned pink and then red and he was kicking like a 10 year old.  When I finally left him off of my silken lap he hopped around the room holding his bottom and continuing to cry just as Megan had done.   It was the first spanking I had ever given; but, he was as well spanked as Megan had been.  

Before he gained his composure Alexis secured his wrists and ankles in leather cuffs and placed a pillow over the back of the straight backed chair that I set on while spanking him.  He was then forced over the pillow and his wrist cuffs were fastened to the front legs of the chair and his ankles to the back legs.  He was helpless yet comfortable.  Alexis and I enjoyed a glass of wine while he gained his composure. Alexis explained to him that she paddled her roommate as hard as he was just paddled for much less serious offensives and that he was now going to be caned the same way lawbreakers are in Singapore.  Alexis in her pencil black dress, black stockings, and 6″ heels was stunning as she switched the bamboo cane through the air.  He was to receive 6 strokes and after each stroke Alexis waited over a minute for him to calm down before the next stroke was delivered.  It took almost 20 minutes to complete his caning.  Alexis proved a master.  Not one stripe on his bottom crisscrossed another.  There was a perfect stair step of stripes covering his bottom.  Alexis rubbed ointment on his welts and left him over the chair while we enjoyed another glass of wine.  

During the remainder of our week on the island Alexis and I dressed in gorgeous sexual costumes from decades past.  Corsets from the turn of the century under our long skirts and dresses, pointed bras under our tight sweaters from the 50’s, and short flapper dresses from the 20’s while Jonathan was allowed no clothing until we were ready to leave.  Alexis and I rubbed ointments on his bottom daily and warned him that  if there were any more problems at work that he would be brought back here for a severe horsewhipping that he wouldn’t forget.  

To my surprise when we returned to the states Jonathan asked me out and we have been dating.  I’m not sure if he realizes that since my experiences with Alexis, Megan, and him that the idea of spanking him is exciting and after all I am old enough to be his mother.   Its only a matter of time!

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

Fantasy Island story entry

The ‘Fantasy Island’ Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest really got some imaginations going…and here’s a little whodunit for you all, spanking style.


*****


It was a sunny day in the little cottage, out in the middle of the private wood, and Ms Kane was luxuriating with a well earned drink in the shade of the umbrella.

In front of her were Sarah, and Dennis, naked, and tied to trees, face first, their sobs mingling with the bird song.

Both their bottoms, and to a lesser extent the back of their legs, were bright red, slightly bruised around the edges, and giving off even more heat than the sun provided.

Spanked, caned, and birched, they had excepted Ms Kanes invitation, well demand, that they accompany her to her summer house on the island, fully expecting a punishment spanking for their misdeeds, but never expecting an open air punishment.,

“am i not kind enough that i allow the cooling breeze to cool down your dreadfully hot bottoms”? asked Miss Kane

“yes miss”,
“thank you miss”, the couple said in unison, afraid that any other answer would lead to another punishment spanking.

Ms Kane rose from her lounger,put her knitting to one side, said excuse me one minute, to the couple, and entered the cottage to get another drink, and some water for the woodland ornaments arranged outside, tied to the trees. She looked through the open window at them wigging their bottoms, almost in unison, to try and get even more cold air to their flayed derriers.
She heard the tinkling of her mobiles,made by her last class at Sternwood.
The blue,and green, and clear glass, in various shapes, hung from string and wire from the ceiling all over the cottage.
Creating shafts of colour and light,and gentle ‘tink’ noises in various notes,as they gently moved in the summer breeze.

Then she heard it. A faint whispering coming from behind her locked study door, she quietly removed her keys from her pocket, and crept forward, she put her ear to the door, definitely whispering.
She shouted 
“i know your in there, i have a walking stick,and you dont scare me.” Miss Kane said with all her vocal and tonal inflections learnt after so many years of controlling unruly classes.

As The whispering continued, she put the key in the lock, turned it, and burst through the door, closing it behind her. She would show them.

There was nobody in the room…
The small window was still open but nobody could have climbed through that.
The rest of the windows were locked.
Ms Kane rushed over to check that they were locked.
The whispering seemed to continue from behind her desk, but before she went over, she smelt it.
That burning smell of paper.
She looked at her side table, and there were the ashes of something. Putting her stick down on the desk, she rushed over and saw the faint outline left on the bottom of the spine of the book.
Journal, she read out loud, to herself..
her favourite book was a pile of ashes.

“I know your there, and so help me i shall beat you for this..”
In a fury she rushed over to the desk.
Looking around the corner she saw… nothing.
she looked around the room…under the table… nothing.
She knew there was no secret passages, the cottage had been built to her specifications, some 20 years ago.


So how had the people she heard whispering escape..
And who had set fire to her spanking journal?
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Delrin Punishment for The Very Bad Boy


Readers,

The Very Bad Boy has now received his Delrin punishment. As you know, Angel received hers weeks ago, so it was about time to get VBB’s out of the way, too. I honestly hope that this is the final punishment that either of them receives from me.

He wasn’t allowed to roll the fuzzy dice, as Angel was kind (cruel) enough to leave a dry-erase die that I could write my own chosen numbers on. So, the lowest number of strokes that the VBB could possibly receive from each of my eleven (yes, I found another in the closet) Delrin implements was 12. The highest was 25. 

During the entire duration, his Wonderful Wife stood just out of camera range, keeping a close eye on him.

The VBB managed to bite his tongue throughout the ordeal, keeping back his usual bratty talk. This allowed him to slip somewhat sneakily into a very large bottomspace where likely nothing could’ve reached his limits. Much aftercare was provided him immediately afterward.

This is a very hard corporal punishment session. During the last round of strokes – with a particularly evil and painful Delrin cane – skin breaking does occur

With all this said, it is likely that the punishment will result in somewhat-cooperative behavior on the part of the Very Bad Boy – for at least a day or two.

– Dana


Please, if you do not enjoy severe spankings – do not watch.

Click the screenshot above to open the picasa video viewer in a new tab.


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

Sunday site update DanaKaneSpanks.com: 9/16

Angel’s Spankotherapy: Procrastination

Procrastination1

(Extended and Short versions available.)
Live Session Video: Sexual Harassment Bartender

SexualHarassmentBartender-001

For more preview photos, scene descriptions, and download links, click the Title Links above, or visit 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

More Sarah Gregory F/F spanking coming soon!


I recently had the pleasure of working with the adorable Sarah Gregory for the first time. Sarah and I met at the Chicago Crimson Moon party this summer, and hit it off immediately, so working together on her September visit to Las Vegas was a no-brainer. 



You’ll find some of the scenes we shot on my most recent blog update, HERE

We also had a great time shooting scenes for an upcoming ageplay release from Sarah. She portrayed an incorrigible brat of a daughter whose father brought her to Ms. Kane, in desperate hopes of teaching her some sorely-needed manners. Keep an eye out for this one, as Sarah’s role-play is outstanding!
Photos courtesy Miss Sarah Gregory.

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

Fantasy Island contest entry ‘Carl’s Date’

‘Carl’s Date’ is a cautionary tale for scheming boys who try to play tricks on strict co-eds. Another fun entry in the ‘Fantasy Island’ Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest. Enjoy!

– Dana


*****

Carl’s Date


 Carl was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father made scandalous tons of money during the high tech crest in the 90’s, then got out before the market fell. As a junior at San Diego State University, Carl had it made. He was smart enough to maintain his grades, belonged to the best fraternity and dated the prettiest girls available. Generally, Carl was looking for fun, not relationships, so he never lingered with only one.
   One day, at the fraternity house, Carl was bragging to his buddy Andy about his soon-to-be date with Amie. Now Amie was the captain of the women’s soccer team, a serious student, with a body that rivaled any girl on college.
   Andy laughed, “Carl, you are way out of your league. Amie will not be impressed with your cash and we all know that your personality won’t get you far.”
   Now it is difficult to tell what Carl possessed the most, cash or confidence. He said,” I bet that, in our first date, I’ll make love with Amie easily. Would you want to make it for a thousand?”
   “I don’t have that kind of cash, but I’ll tell you what. You put up a thousand. If you win, I’ll be your man servant for the rest of the semester. I’ll wash your clothes and bring you food.” Andy countered.
   “It’s a deal!” Carl said.
    “How can I be sure of your success?” asked Andy.
   Carl immediately began typing on his computer. Immediately twelve pictures appeared on screen. “These are the security cams for my dad’s island home. I will take Amie to go fishing and we will end up here near the end of our date.”
    Carl touched one picture, immediately the master bedroom filled the screen. “For better or worse, you will know the outcome of my date.”
   The next day, Andy began getting nervous. He strolled by the soccer field and found Amie. Andy spilled the beans. He told Amie about the bet and the cameras. She smiled and told Andy, “When we set sail, get all of your fraternity brothers, their dates, and see if you can invite most of Carl’s previous dates to a viewing party. I will give you a show Carl will never expect.”
   Early Saturday morning Carl picked up Amie. “I’ve have my dad’s boat fueled up for a day fishing. We can have dinner at our own island. You’re going to love it!”
   Usually this was enough to seal the deal for some of the dates Carl had been on. When they arrived to Carl’s thirty six foot Hatteras, Amie seemed impressed. ”Oh Carl, this is as nice as most fishing boats I’ve been on. I hope you know where we can find all the fish.”
   As Carl eased the boat out of her slip, into the bay, he said, “I’ve usually had good luck catching what I go after.” He broke out a cooler full of cold beer.
   “I know,” said Amie, “let’s make a bet, you know, for the largest fish caught. I can’t compete with you for money, but maybe we can find something to wager,”
   “What did you have in mind?” asked Carl.
   “Tell you what; we will weigh each catches, whoever catches the most pounds, may spank the loser. One whack per pound.” Amie smiled.
   “Agreed!” Carl leapt at the chance to spank Amie’s perfect behind.
   As the morning passed they began fishing. The beer flowed and Carl had three healthy fish that totaled eighteen pounds. Amie was beginning to worry when suddenly her line began flying off her reel.
     “That’s a big one!” shouted Carl, “Do you need help?”
    “I’m fine. I can’t trust you with this fish. Your butt is doomed when I land this one” she replied.
   As it turned out, truer words were never spoken. Amie pulled in a huge tuna! After it was in the boat, Carl began turning toward his island. The bet worried him, but the other bet was still to win. He pulled on to the island.
   “Let’s weigh the fish!” squealed Amie, who knew the outcome. Her fish was 83 pounds Carl’s was 17. “That’s 66 swats!” she sweetly smiled. Across the dock was a large field of bamboo. There was a sharp knife on the dock for cleaning fish. Amie took it and cut a four foot strip of limber bamboo, about ½” thick.
     “This should be fun!” She smiled. “I’ll give you a break Carl. I will race you to your house front door for 33 of the swats.”
     Carl weighed his prospects. Amie was the captain of the soccer team, but Carl was pretty in shape, plus he still had his confidence. “You’re on.” Carl said.
   “At your mark”
   “Go!” Carl barked. And off they ran. They were pretty even for the most of the race, but at the last ten yards, Amie burst like she had a new spark of energy. She easily made the front door by a couple yards.
    “OK Carl, it’s time to pay up. I’ll only give you 33 right now. We’ll save the others for later. Please lean over this chair on the porch.”
    Carl grabbed the arm of the chair and bend over. Amie hugged him from the back her breasts up against his back reminded Carl the reason for this trip. She smiled and reached to grasped Carl’s belt and unfastened his pants while lowering them to his knees.
     Meanwhile at Carl’s fraternity house, not another person could fit in the game room where they had Carl’s computer wired to the three big screens. All of Carl’s frat brothers, their dates and all of Carl’s previous dates were enjoying the entertainment which was just beginning. 
     Amie gave Carl his first stroke with her bamboo cane, a mild one. Carl thought,” This isn’t going to be so bad.”
     The second stroke was a little harder. “Carl, why don’t you count each stroke so I don’t lose count?”
   “We can start with three”, with that Amie gave Carl the first of a really hard stroke.
   “Three, Jesus!” Carl was shocked by the pain. “Four!” this had ceased being fun. “Five” “six, seven, eight” tears began forming in Carl’s eyes. After fifteen, something strange happened. Carl began enjoying his punishment. His rear was on fire, yet he felt really alive. After nineteen Amie said, “This one’s is going to hurt more” She then laid on to one stroke that almost had Carl passing out.
    The cane was laid on the wall and Amie began caressing Carl’s behind. She wiped off his tears and gently pulled his pants up. “I’ll give you the thirteen strokes back if you go and get my bag and the fish while I begin supper.”
    Tenderly Carl walked toward his boat. He began wishing for softer underwear. So far the trip had been one defeat after another, yet Carl had to admit that he was having the time of his life. He was regretting his bet with Andy, thinking Amie deserved much more respect than he hadn’t given her before. Carl cleaned Amie’s fish; put most of it on ice, and took enough for their meal to the house along Amie’s bag.
   As Carl approached his house he smelled something good. He walked in and Amie was in the kitchen. On the stove were greens and a pot of herbal rice.
   “Where did you get these?” asked Carl.
   “They were in the fridge, I think someone has been here recently.” Amie smiled.
   Carl placed the tuna on the counter. “Let me grill us a few tuna steaks. It will take me ten minutes to start the grill and another five for the steaks. How would you like yours?”
   “Rare works for me. Can I grab a quick shower?” Amie asked as she grabbed a new beer.
    “Please, make yourself at home.” Carl took some charcoal toward the patio.
    When the coals were hot Carl threw the steaks on just Amie walked out. She had on one of Carl’s dad’s shirt and apparently that was all. “This was one outstanding woman.” thought Carl while he set the table on the patio.
    Carl served the rice and greens with the tuna and they began eating in silence. He couldn’t have asked for better weather and the meal was awesome. The spanking was almost forgotten till Carl sat down to eat. He winced and Amie chuckled,” Are we having problems sitting?”
    Stoically, Carl smiled and replied, “No, there must be a splinter on this bench.”
    “Good, I was planning to give you some more for dessert.”
    “Amie, I have to confess a little secret.” Carl said
    “Are you going to tell me about your bet with Andy?” Amie asked. ‘He thought he might lose so he told me Thursday.”
    “Son of a bitch!” Carl was crestfallen. “Why did you even go?
    “One, for the chance to teach you a lesson, and two, I’ve seen you on campus all year and, from a distance, I kind’ a liked you. To be honest, I’ve had a great time today. To this point you have been honorable, except for the cameras.”
     “I was getting ready to tell you about the deal Amie. You have been great and I feel bad the way I set this date. I did everything wrong and I’m sorry. If you want to go back, I’ll start the boat up right now.” Carl never felt this low.
     “So you’re trying to forfeit your bet?” Amie asked.
     “No, Andy can have the money.”
     “No, silly, our bet! I still get to spank you another sixty six swats! And now you really deserve them.”
    Funny, but Carl agreed. He smiled when he felt the warm glow on his bottom and got up to clean the table. “Where do you want me to lie?”
      “I got this shirt in the master bedroom. There’s plenty room there. I just have one question for you. Do you want your fraternity house to watch you getting spanked, or you making love with me?”
      Carl walked into the den where a large panel full of lights blinking. “These switch on the top kills all security cameras.” He reached out and flicked it off and all lights on the panel went off.
    Amie began unbuttoning her shirt “Pants off and on the bed! I’ll get the bamboo.” Amie was thinking she could get used to island living. Carl was running to the bedroom with his pants below his knees.



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

‘Pic Your Bum’ Contest Winner!



I must admit, I’m pretty chuffed with the ‘Pic Your Bum’ photo contest.

While there may have been only a small number of brave entrants, the voting response was surprisingly robust. Each entrant received a respectable number of votes, but three managed to pull well ahead of the rest.
Of those three, two ‘Bums’ were in a near-dead heat up until the last minutes of the contest.

Total number of votes: 174


And the winner of the ‘Pic Your Bum’ photo contest – and a DVD copy of Sternwood Academy (featuring lots of great actors, spanking models…and me)  is:


Bum #6
pb6



Congratulations to the winner – he’ll be receiving his Sternwood Academy DVD via US mail.

 
And there’s another photo contest coming soon!
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Travel Update: Rochester, NY


I will be making a return visit to Rochester, NY, on Friday and Saturday, September 28 & 29, 2012.

Those interested in disciplinary consideration should email danakanespanks@gmail.com.

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

Free F/F spanking video, featuring Sarah Gregory


My sweet friend Sarah Gregory was here recently, and we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show our enthusiasm for our friends at Caneiac.com. And what better way than a fun little spanking video featuring a few of their implements?

Three leather implements, and two wood – mind you, Sarah’s not a fan of hard play, so a couple of these were a little tough for her. She’s SUCH a good sport!

We hope you enjoy watching

– Dana

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

‘Trusting Brandy’ : A Fantasy Island story entry

This fella has no idea what he’s gotten himself into, in this fun F/M spanking story…
‘Trusting Brandy’ is another excellent entry to the ‘Fantasy Island’ Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest– enjoy it!

– Dana


*****



                                        Trusting Brandy


Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

She wasn’t answering him. Jake could feel the boat slowing and Brandy had not spoken since just after they had left the resort’s dock. His intuition was getting the best of him. He had not heard his wife’s voice for too long now. He loved her completely, but she had a tendency to lean more towards the naive side of life. Who had she hired? The part of the world had more than a few locals eager to prey on the careless nature of tourist. Damned their anniversary, and damned her “surprise” gift, he had had enough. As the boat slowed even more beneath his feet, he reached to pull the blindfold off. 

He did not. Before he could react, another hand ripped the blindfold away. More hands followed, two on each arm pulling him backwards and another pair securing his legs. By the time Jake’s eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the day, he was helplessly being carried in a horizontal position towards the rail of the boat. He searched frantically for Brandy. She was nowhere to be seen. Then he was swinging, and then he was flying. Lastly he was in the water. 

He sank briefly, felt his feet touch bottom, and pushed off to regain the water’s surface. Already the boat, the boat that held his wife, his life, was speeding away. He screamed her name, and was shaken a bit by the terror he heard in his own voice. Impulsively he began a desperate and useless attempt to swim after the watercraft. His effort, and his hope, quickly faded. He was a weak simmer in the best of situations, now against the tide and weighted down with this absurd tuxedo, all he could do was watch the boat quickly vanish from the reality of his horizon. 

It was as he turned away from the waves to catch his breath that he saw the island….and the woman. 
By the time Jake reached the shore he was as close to exhaustion as he had ever been. He had pushed hard, and even with the tide on his side it had taken him much longer than he had hoped. The last quarter mile had been shallow enough to run, but not shallow enough to run well. 

Still he pushed hard, for the woman drew closer he could see her elegance. Her white dress was flowing in the ocean breeze, melting into brim of her sun hat, creating a contrasting frame to highlight the short raven hair and darkly tanned skin. He could see her jewelry sparkle in the sunlight. A woman who wore stones big enough to sparkle on the beach was the kind of woman who most certainly owned a very good cell phone. And so he pushed on hard. When he finally reached her, he fell to the ground at her feet, gasping for air enough to power his lungs to speech. 

 She looked down upon him and smiled. “Welcome to my island” 

At last Jake found his voice “Please,..my wife..they took her..please.. a phone”. 

She reached down, took his chin in her hand and tilted his head to meet her gaze. The smile remained, but he saw harshness in her eyes. Her tone was pleasant, yet unmistakably firm. “We need to get you out of this sun. Come”. 

With that she turned, and gracefully strode graceful towards a gazebo a few hundred feet up from the beaches edge. By the time Jake had found his faculties, she had ascended the structures stairs, placed her thin walking stick on a wooden table and began to pour herself a drink. 

When he finally reached the platform she spoke again. “Please remove that wretched attire. You look like a wet penguin. There are few penguins in the South Pacific. Here is something a little more suitable for the men of my island to wear” She reached out her hand towards him. In it was a primitive looking loin cloth. 

Jake ignored her gesture. It would be the first and last time he ignored her. He turned away from her, held the gazebos railing and searched the waters for a trace of Brandy’s boat. “Please Ma’am; please may I use your phone. My wife has been…” 

His words where lost mid-sentence. The woman quickly reached down, retrieved her walking stick, and with the speed and grace of a gazelle, brought the wicked implement down full strength across the seat of his damp trousers. 

“Brandy is fine, Jake! For her sake it would be in your best interest to display some of the manners and respect. Now do as I told you and remove your clothing!” 

She had his full interest now, both mentally and physically. She knew where Brandy was, thank God, there was hope. Slowly, his eyes ever shifting from the woman’s determined face, to the formidable length of bamboo in her hand, Jake peeled away the wet tux. When it was off, after she motioned him with the stick to hang it over the railing, he slipped on the loincloth. With his hands at his side he awaited further instruction. 

“That is a much better boy. Thank you.” 

She went to the table, set down the walking stick, pulled a chair away from the table, and seated herself. 

“Come here, across my knee” 

Jake obeyed. Did he have any choice? For Brandy he would put molten lava into his mouth if this woman told him to. He walked to her, and stretched himself across her lap. The woman guided him, her hands motioning him to adjust his position to suit her intention. Once satisfied, she easily flipped up the back of his flimsy cloth, baring his bottom to her ministrations. She traced a finger along the single welt on his cheeks. 

“My, my, that bamboo certainly left its mark didn’t it? Even though those thick pants. Imagine how it will feel upon your bare behind? Not to worry Jake, I will not be using it on you. That pleasure will be reserved for your wife when she arrives.” 

She paused, just long enough to reach for something from the table. When she resettled her body, she made sure Jake caught a glimpse of the brush in her hand. 

“Brandy loves you very much; you are a lucky, lucky man. Her boat should be docking up shore right about now. She will be her in thirty minutes or so to reintroduce you to that very walking stick. So where does that leave you and I? Well, while we are waiting…..” 

She raised the brush high. 
  
               END 

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

Vote for the ‘Pic Your Bum’ photo contest winner


Readers,

Here’s your chance to help me (and your fellow spanking fans) out with a little contest. A few weeks ago, I requested that readers take a photo of their bum, along with the words “Pic Your Bum” to show that the photo was taken specifically for the contest. 

Now I’m asking you all to vote on your favorite Bum Pic. The photos are in random order, and all entrants will remain anonymous, of course. I’ll accept votes for a week, then announce the winner here.

The winner will receive the new spanking DVD release ‘Sternwood Academy’.

* Please only vote once. Cheaters will be publicly shamed.

* Comments will be moderated.

(Good luck to the ‘Bums’!)

– Dana



EACH PHOTO IS NUMBERED. VOTE BELOW.
‘Pic Your Bum’ Contestants: 
 
‘Bum’ #1
pb1
 
 
 ‘Bum’ #2
 
pb2
 
‘Bum’ #3 
 
pb3
 
 ‘Bum’ #4
pb4
 
 
 ‘Bum’ #5
pb5
 
 
 Bum #6
pb6
 
 
 ‘Bum’ #7
pb7
 
 
 

Loading…

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

Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com site update: 9/2

Help with his Erection
HelpErection1

POV: Help with your Erection

POVHelpErection1

 
Spanking and Foot Worship
SpankingFoot
Cheating Schoolgirl
CheatSchoolgirl1
POV: Bedwetter
POVBedwetter1

For more photos, scene descriptions, and download links, 
click the title links above – or, go to:

HERE.


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

‘Fantasy Island’ Story Contest Winner


I think you’ll all agree that the ‘Fantasy Island’ Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest has generated some very detailed, thoughtful, and imaginative tales. I will post up all entries throughout the month of September, and you’ll be delighted at the island spankings taking place in each. 

While all of the entries were really quite remarkable, I was particularly taken with one titled “Tropical Island” – this month’s winner. Twisty and magical, this is a spanking story with a literary imagination of it’s own. 

You’ll be happy to read that the author will receive, for his hard work and creativity, a very sound spanking.

Enjoy!

PS. My sincerest thanks to the wonderful writers who continue to populate these contests.  Even though not everyone can win every contest, these talented people take the time to imagine, write, edit, and share their spanking fantasy stories with us all. 

–  Dana

*****
Tropical Island 


It was all very strange – she couldn’t remember getting here – wherever ‘here’ was, or indeed anything that had gone before, yet she knew she was wearing an exclusive yellow shantung dress and £275 Christian Louboutin shoes. She also knew, without knowing how, that she was wearing a matching set of What Katie Did lingerie and a pair of almost colourless – and extremely expensive – seven denier Gerbe Voile stockings.  

In front of her, the sea was that wonderful Mediterranean blue that only ever seemed to exist in films, while spotless white sands disappeared into the horizon both left and right. Behind her were palm trees and a narrow road leading to a large, white, colonial-style building, which she just knew she was staying in.  
Quite why she was here, at the beach, in such unsuitable clothes, she couldn’t begin to imagine – and why, despite all she did know, she couldn’t even remember her own name. ‘This is curiouser than Alice,’ she thought – or perhaps even said out aloud. It was difficult to tell as everything felt so unreal. She didn’t feel any pain or discomfort and couldn’t remember being in any kind of accident that might have caused amnesia – and if she had been in one, why was she here, rather than at home – assuming, of course this wasn’t her home …?  

Her thoughts were interrupted when a middle-aged man appeared, almost like a Demon King in a pantomime, at her side. He, like her was not really dressed for the beach, although his white linen suit, his Sea-Island cotton shirt and his panama hat (Did anyone wear panama hats any more? she wondered) were of the very best and his sandals, while not new, looked beautifully-made  – and probably hand-lasted. He carried a walking-cane of yellowish-brown bamboo but didn’t seem to need its help – it just went with the whole picture so well.  

‘Good day, young lady,’ he said, doffing his hat to her and bowing ever so slightly from the waist, ‘How nice it is to see you again.’  

‘I’m sorry,’ she replied, ‘but I don’t seem to remember you – or anything else very much, to be honest. Are you sure we’ve met before?’  

‘Oh, yes, Miss, indeed we have – on several occasions. We don’t always look the way we do today, however, and that’s probably confusing you somewhat.’  

‘Well – who did we look like? The last time we met, I mean.’  

‘Hmmm – let me think …. It’s more than just looks, to be quite honest with you; we are sometimes quite different people, yet underneath all that, always the same people, if you follow … but I can see you don’t, Shall we sit down on this nice little bench seat here and I’ll see what I can do about telling you all there is to know.’  

She hadn’t noticed the delicate, wrought-iron and painted wood bench seat – or the little table, along with two glasses and a jug of something that looked deliciously cold. Was she going mad – or had she been out in this lovely sunlight for too long? Oh, well ….  

He poured a drink for them both and settled back, saying, ‘Now let me see – the last time we met – you were a schoolgirl – your name, if I remember correctly, was Erica Bradshaw, and I was Miss Helen Byrne-Jones, the head teacher of a 1950s English girls boarding school called St Walpurga’s – and I had just given you twelve strokes of the senior cane on your pretty little bare bottom, with your knickers around your knees.’  

‘Y-you were a woman – a teacher …?’  
‘Yes, my dear – and you were a naughty, eighteen-year-old minx who had pushed her luck once too often and a little too hard. I can remember it as if it were yesterday. The time before that, I was an over-worked and overwrought business woman and you were my lazy Lesbian lover. I had to give you six good ones with the Lochgelly tawse to encourage you to pull your weight around the house instead of spending all your time reading BDSM fiction on the internet and -er – playing naughty games, if you get my – anyway, happy days.’  

‘Hmmph – for you, no doubt. Do you always get to whack girls? Are you some kind of pervert who gets his kicks from another’s pain?’  

‘As a matter of fact, I don’t – always whack girls, that is. Now, that’s taken you aback, hasn’t it? I was once – no, twice – a fearsome lady, a Head of Household by the name of Mistress Karen, who kept her husband Ron very firmly in his place with frequent application of a Lexan paddle to his bare backside. You were, of course, Ron – in those particular cases and I – well, I’ll leave that to you to work out.  

‘So – you are telling me ….’  
‘Yes – that I am Spanker and you, my dear, are Spankee; those are our fixed roles which can be moulded as our creator thinks fit.’  

‘Our C-creator?’ she said, involuntarily looking skyward as if to catch a glimpse of the same.  
‘Oh, no – not ‘Creator’ with a big ‘C’, just creator – our author, as he likes to think of himself; others might disagree with the term.’  

‘W-we are characters in a story?’  
‘That’s right. May I get you another drink – it will stay at this amount and perfect temperature until our creator remembers to do something with it, so we may as well enjoy it while we can.’  

‘Er – thank you, I will have another. W-where are we – and why are we here, do you think?’  
‘I would say we are on some idealised tropical island, probably a semi-prepared scenario for a competition of some sort; this isn’t his usual kind of thing, and I am assuming he is setting the scene with us. That’s probably why you are dressed for a night at the opera when a swimsuit, a sarong and a sun-hat would have been much more suitable attire.’  

‘Swimsuit, sarong and sun-hat – lazy Lesbian lover … they are both examples of  – what is it – alliteration, aren’t they? A writer’s trick?’  

‘Quite so, my dear – O.C considers himself very literate and loves to indulge in a little wordplay; sometimes he even drags in some portentous but often not quite appropriate Latin phrase to show how smart he is; he can’t seem to help himself. Sadly, these little tricks often displace much idea of a good story, apart from when we get to a list of “Whack!”s, followed quickly by “Ouch!”es, which is what all of his stories are about, really. That, and a half-hour in the corner with your bare, bruised bottom on display.’ He almost winced as he trotted out yet another clumsy alliteration.  

‘And I – I am here to be whacked – is that it?’  

‘You have it in one, my dear – spanked, caned, tawsed or paddled – or any combination of the four. He did have a minor flirtation with dressage whips, but that was a long while ago – in fact, he hasn’t written anything at all in quite some time, although what he calls “impact play” occupies his thoughts an awful lot.’  

‘So, what will happen, then – if you don’t mind telling me. Will you just put me over your knee and spank me – is that it? Will you be using that wicked-looking walking cane on me?’  

‘Oh, no, my dear, I wouldn’t think so for a minute. Our creator isn’t very good, but he isn’t a brute; this cane is merely a prop, and almost certainly part of the scene he is setting. And even he has to have some kind of reason for me to spank you.  

‘What kind of reason?’  
‘My, you do ask a lot of questions, young lady – you are making me quite thirsty again,’ he said, pouring another drink from the jug; the level of liquid didn’t change by as much as a millimetre.  

‘Essentially, there are only a few distinct stories in all literature. Some authorities – if that is a suitable word – claim there are twenty. Others, Booker, for instance, maintain there are only seven, while there are those who have identified – or at least claim to have identified, thirty-six. It seems to be very much a case of “paying your money and taking your choice”, but there are generally acknowledged to be nine sub-plots involving spanking, if that’s any help to you.’  

‘Well, it’s a good job we have somewhere to sit and a seemingly endless supply of this delicious drink to get through while you tell me about them – do go on – I am intrigued.’  
‘Before I begin, may I ask your name, Miss? It would make things much easier if I didn’t have to keep calling you “Miss”, “young lady” or “my dear”.’  
‘Why, of course – I should have said earlier. My name is … now that’s odd – all I can think of is [a].’  
‘Oh, the lazy bugger! He calls himself a writer? – why, he hasn’t even given us proper names yet and is still using place-markers – how ever he hopes to get this published, even on-line, is quite beyond me. It would appear that I am [b], by the way.’  
‘You were saying, Mr [b] ….’  
‘Oh, yes, the plots. Well, we aren’t in an office situation, so you probably haven’t been dipping in to the petty cash or using the company ‘phone to chat to your aunt in Saskatchewan in company time. Nor are you a schoolgirl – this time, at any rate, nor a frustrated but horny lady who just fancies getting her bottom warmed for the fun of it.’  

‘Well, that’s three out of the way!’  
‘Yes, so on we go. You haven’t been abducted by some whip-wielding wacko to be a plaything for his perverted pleasure – oh, my, here we go again! – yet more shoddy alliteration. We really must try to get a better author, or at least improve the one we have. Where did we get to?’  

‘Five’  

‘Oh, yes. Well, we don’t appear to be part of “the family that spanks together” or the blushing bride being “instructed in her new duties”. I may just be an uncle you have been sent to spend some time with in order for him to “adjust your attitude”, or your boss – “if you want to keep your job, Miss [a] …”. That leaves us with only one more option, the “professional spanking service”, but I think that one is best left alone, don’t you?’  

‘Yes – but I’m not crazy about any of them, to be honest. Then again, I suppose we have to be here for something – a competition, you said you thought it might be?’  
‘I think that’s the most likely reason, and that the wayward rich girl being sent to spend some time with an older relative, in a place she can’t easily leave, in order to “learn some respect” is probably the best we can speculate upon at pre ….  

***  

Ken Thompson closed the file named ‘Story 11 – Notes’, opened a new window on his laptop and typed in:  
‘Tropical Island Competition Entry’  
by saucy_scribe  

Part One – Coming to the Island  
The Cessna Caravan, belonging to the ABG Group of Companies, had been adapted from its normal, freight-only role to carry four passengers in addition to its monthly payload of supplies for the small tropical isle owned and inhabited by Raymond Gardner, among the richest men on The Times rich-list, and his hand-picked staff.  

Today, his niece, Caroline Andrews, was flying in to spend some time with her uncle Ray – not that this would have been her choice of holiday, however; her parents, scandalised by Caroline’s dropping-out of University and her subsequent wild partying that had cost a lot of money to keep out of the papers and away from the beady eyes of the police, had decided to send her to live with her mother’s brother for a month.  

He was a well-known businessman and had a no-nonsense reputation; if anyone could bring Caroline around on to the right track, it was Raymond Gardner – and, for a month, Caroline would have  nowhere else to go ….  

The Captain announced the narrow runway was in sight and that the passengers, Caroline and Norah Phillips, her governess/nanny/minder/prison-guard – Caroline was never quite certain which of these hats she was wearing at any particular moment – should fasten their seat-belts and prepare for landing.



Norah touched Caroline’s arm gently, saying ‘Wake up, Caroline – we are almost at your uncle’s island. Did you have a nice little snooze?’  

‘Er – yes, thank you, Norah, but I had the strangest dream ….’  

The chunky little turbo-prop with its large, soft tyres, came to a stop on the white, sandy runway and suddenly hands were quickly unloading the supplies and refuelling the small aircraft. A middle-aged man wearing a white linen suit, a Sea-Island cotton shirt and hand-made sandals was waiting, just outside the landing-area, for the two women who would be his guests for the next month. He waved to them with an ornate bamboo walking-cane ….  

‘Now come along, Caroline, and stop day-dreaming! We have to see about getting our things taken up to the house and then I think we could both do with a good long soak and a rest before dinner. Why don’t you wear your lovely new yellow dress and those fabulous CL shoes and wow your uncle Raymond? Tomorrow, we’ll put on our swimsuits, sun-hats and sarongs and hit that gorgeous beach! Caroline – Caroline …?’  

END  

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

Travel Update: NYC/Albany/Toronto (and Memphis!)


I will be revisiting my lovely playmates in New York City on Nobember 12-14, followed by Albany, NY, and Toronto. 


Also, I’ve added a return trip to Memphis, TN, on October 12-13.


For disciplinary consideration, please read the Appointments page, then email me directly at:


danakanespanks@gmail.com.

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

Your Opinions: What makes a spanking movie entertaining?


The new survey, “Your Opinions: Spanking Movies” has had an excellent response. Want to see how your answers stack up next to other spanking movie fans?


Of  334 currents responses:


Which spanking movie sub-genres do you enjoy? (Number of respondents, followed by percentage of overall responses. Remember that, on many survey questions, respondents may choose ‘all that apply’ – so percentages will add up to more than 100%.)


Female Top/ Male Bottom          277 85%
Female Top/ Female Bottom 149 46%
Male Top/ Female Bottom          74 23%
Male Top/ Male Bottom         26   8%




How hard a spanking do you like to see?


Light, gentle, barely pink                                            5     1%
A little harder, but no marks                                  16   5%
Stinging, thudding, and wiggling. Light marks.          38 11%
A good, hard spanking. Moderate marks.                   183 55%
Punishment, pain, heavy marks.                                   82 25%



In a role-play scene, which types of top/bottom scenario do you enjoy?

Marital Discipline 181 56%
Teacher/Student 176 54%
Doctor(or Nurse)/Patient 62 19%
Boss/Employee 130 40%
Mother/Son(or Daughter) 128 39%
Aunt/Nephew( or Niece) 162 50%
Ageplay 57 17%
Other






45 14%


Bottom behavior: What types of behavior do you enjoy seeing the bottom display?

Stoicism 54 17%
Whining/pleading 143 44%
Bratting 79 25%
Wiggling/struggling 211 66%
Crying 203 63%
Arousal 108 34%
Other 23 7%


The Demeanor of the Top: What personality traits do you enjoy seeing the top display?

Loving, Calm 132 41%
Concerned, Nurturing 132 41%
Scolding/ Lecturing 220 69%
Angry/ Vengeful 81 25%
Sensual 112 35%
Maternal 121 38%
Other

Spanking Movie Wardrobe: How do you prefer to see a female top dressed?

Business Attire 195 61%
School-type wardrobe 103 32%
Retro/ Vintage 100 31%
Bedroom Wear 115 36%
Costume/Fantasy (Superhero/heroine, historical figures, etc.) 28 9%
Blue Jeans/Casual 136 43%
Matronly 81 25%
Sexy 134 42%
Other

Implementation: Which implements do you enjoy seeing used?

Hand Spanking 216 67%
Small Wood Paddle 153 48%
Large Wood Paddle 133 41%
Leather Paddle 123 38%
Leather Strap/Tawse 159 50%
Belt 139 43%
Cane 147 46%
Hairbrush 211 66%
Bathbrush 125 39%
Rubber Paddle/ Strap 76 24%
Slipper/Shoe 54 17%
Other 30 9%
48 15%


24 8%


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

Story contest and photo contest ending soon!


The August Person, Place, and Thing writing contest – ‘Fantasy Island’ – will end on August 31. The winner will be announced first of September. Story writing winners will win a spanking session with me, and all qualifying entries will be posted for your reading enjoyment during the month of September.


The ‘Pic Your Bum’ photo contest will end September 3. I will then post up all qualifying entries and give readers one week to vote on the winner. The ‘Pic Your Bum’ winning photo will receive a DVD copy of ‘Sternwood Academy’ via US mail.


If participation in the ‘Bum’ contest warrants, I will continue holding non-writing-type contests, with the next winner to receive a Dana Kane Custom DVD.

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

Spanking PSA: Safe Words


“Red. Yellow. Green. Mercy”….”That’s too hard. It hurts. Please stop”….

Balderdash. Nonsense. Tosh. Rubbish. It is NOT too hard. It’s supposed to hurt. No way, Jose.

Safe words are useless to me. Allowing my spankee to relieve him/herself of the discomfort of a spanking by spewing random words into the room is a Hard Limit. 

There’s no strength or pride gained from these words; no moment of understanding between top and bottom. This is not a game – you cannot yell ‘red light, green light’ to make your spanker stop dead in his or her tracks.

Spanking – even punishment spanking – is about consent. 
It’s also about trust. 
If my playmate has so little trust in me that he must have a special word at hand to gain control of me at a moment’s notice, then it’s likely that we have not gotten to know one another well enough just yet. If I am uncertain of his full consent before the spanking begins, well…it’s not going to happen.


Instead, I require that my spankee engage me – with his eyes and his voice – and politely request a short break. I believe, and have seen through my own experiences, that requiring the bottom to make eye contact and verbally express his inability to ‘take it’ requires a lot more chutzpah than bleating some random word or phrase into the floorboards. I am convinced that holding the spankee responsible for his or her own discipline is an empowering and uplifting circumstance.

Also, by removing the safe-word option, the bottom has the opportunity to say all those things which, under safe-word circumstances, would likely leave the spanker wondering whether they’d gone too far:

“Please stop, please!”
“Ohmygod, it hurts! That’s too hard!!”
“I don’t think I can take it!”
“Okay, okay…I changed my mind..”
I have heard all these and more. Begging, cajoling, outright insistence that I stop immediately…
All simply reasons to spank harder, scold more convincingly, and manhandle my spankee. 

If you need a break, twist your little neck around, look me straight in the eye, and ask for it. Otherwise, your protestations and safe words will fall on deaf, spank-obsessed ears.

–  Dana

Disclaimer: These are my opinions. They may or may not reflect your preferred play style or opinions. If not, let’s just agree to disagree.


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

DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday update: 8/26

 

Live Session Video: PottyMouth

 

PottyMouth2
 
 

 

This naughty boy curses entirely too much! I tell him that I am tired of his pottymouth, and that he’s going to receive 100 strokes from my rubber paddle.
To keep him from getting himself in even more trouble, I shove a pair of my panties into his mouth..making it impossible for him to curse, try as he might.
After he has grudgingly taken his very hard 100 strokes, I decide that more are in order. Many more.
Then I pick up his leather belt, studded with metal conchos, and land it over and over across his swollen bottom.
 
(Click the title link for more preview photos and download link.)

 

*
 

 

Angel’s Delrin Punishment is also now available for download.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

‘The New Governess’ F/FM scene with Dreams of Spanking

This is a fun, strict scene shot with Pandora Blake and Mike Stryker. 
From Pandora, on Dreams of Spanking:

“I wasn’t sure if I dared to produce this scene. And then I thought, to hell with it, I want to see Mike Stryker paddled in lipstick.
I hope it should be obvious to anyone familiar with this site that none of us, Dana Kane included, approve of her character’s stance in this scenario. Dana Kane was a great sport in playing the evil, repressive governess, and I think she had fun with it, despite it being a long way off her personal views. Mike and I certainly loved being pitted against her in a battle of wills. For the record, all of us at Dreams of Spanking wholeheartedly support radical gender hacking and freedom of self-expression. I also hope that this film touches on the futility of trying to “cure” anyone of their self-identity.
Many spanking stories seem nostalgic for the conservatism of a remembered youth. I thought it would be fun to knock that idea about a bit, and show a conservative disciplinarian who is not only in the wrong, but also pursuing an exercise in futility. Plus, it gave Mike and I (who both have a playfully flexible approach to our own gender presentation) the chance to drag up a bit. This is the least sexy outfit I have ever worn in a spanking video and it was absolutely liberating. And Mike is fabulously, hilariously camp.”
Photography: Tricia Sullivan

Watch the preview video on the Dreams of Spanking website, and leave Pandora and her wonderful crew a comment.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Travel Update: October 20, 27



I will be visiting my friends and playmates in Texas in October: San Antonio on Saturday the 20th, and Houston on Saturday the 27th.


Please read the Appointments page before emailing:
danakanespanks@gmail.com

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

‘Suite Revenge’ : A fun spanking revenge story!


Written by one of my lovely playmates and friends, this story is a fun spin on something quite possibly close to real life…

*****


SUITE REVENGE

Peggy Pritchett sat at her desk at the Merrymount Residential Suites. The crossword puzzle was giving her some difficulty, although most of the answers were 3- and 4-letters; and the “Real Housewives of Atlanta” show was giving it, and Peggy’s concentration, quite a challenge. She wasn’t particularly attractive, and her well-padded derriere lopped over the edges of the chair a bit; but ultimately, it was her personality, and the way she treated her employees and customers, that gave her the lowest marks.

“What,” exclaimed Daniella Kaufmann, “you can’t possibly be serious?” Daniella was trying to check into the luxury suite she had reserved several weeks ago. “I’ve never heard of a hotel that won’t accept cash,” she continued, trying not to lose her dignified composure.

“I’m sorry Ms. Kaufmann, but I don’t make the rules here, my supervisor does,” said Leslie, a sweet young woman who was trapped in the middle of her boss’ policy.

Daniella was like the polar opposite of Peggy, in practically every respect. Gorgeous face, athletic, beautifully-toned body (accented by stylish $300 jeans) and an even more stylish, bodacious body. And quite an IQ to go with it all, with a winning personality and an extraordinarily positive attitude toward life, to boot.

“I’d like to speak with your supervisor, then,” said Ms. Kaufmann.

About ten minutes later, Ms. Pritchett emerged, angry at being pulled away from the Atlanta housewives. “Yea, whada you,  want,” she says to Daniella.

“Listen ma’am, I’ve come a long way for a very important meeting that’s scheduled to begin in 45 minutes. My corporation, DK Enterprises, a Fortune 500 company, of which I am CEO, made a reservation for a first-class Suite at your hotel, the caterers will arrive any minute now, as will the Board of Directors and our guests, and your associate is telling me that you won’t accept cash payment?”

“That’s right, lady, only credit here,” says Peggy, scowling.

“Look,” continued Daniella, “this country has been trying to run on credit, to its incredible detriment, and so much so that even our government has been trying to cut down the huge deficit this has caused. There’s simply no justification for your position and I am politely requesting that you waive your policy for us,” and with that, she waved several hundred-dollar bills at Peggy.

“Nope. Ain’t no way I’m guna make no ‘ceptions, for you or nobody,” came the response.

Unable to contain herself, and on the verge of tears, Daniella Kaufmann stepped outside. She lit up a cigarette and sighed to herself, “damn, I had just given these things up.”

As luck would have it, just at that moment, Steve Miller, Executive Director and the brains behind DKE pulled up, in his sporty S-2000, right in front of Daniella.

Seeing his Daniella in distress, he jumped out of the car and bolted to her side. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

Still visibly shaken, she explained everything to him. Then the catering truck pulled in.

Steve looked directly into her deep, but slightly watery eyes, and told her, “Don’t you worry, sugar, I’ll take care of everything, first for you, and then for DKE.”

He hugged her, went back to his car and produced an ice-cold bottle of raspberry tea, DK’s fav. “Yummy” said Daniella, and the sparkle to her eyes started to re-emerge.

“Daniella, leadership is practically your middle name; but sometimes these ignominious women need the masculine touch. Have some tea, tell the caterers to start unloading and I’ll take care of everything else, ok?” Steve could push a hidden, little submissive button on her. She lowered her eyes and graciously consented — she liked him a lot.

Steve entered the hotel’s reception area, where he found Peggy. “Let’s go into your office for a moment, Ms.. what did you say your name was?”

“Pritchett. Peggy Pritchett,” she blurted with a bit of fear in her voice, and she led him into her “office.” To Peg’s consternation, the housewives had finished their episode.

“Ah, Merrymount, I think we can work this out,” said Steve calmly.

“Ain’t nuthin guna be worked out, no credit card no room, plain and simple,” said Peggy with all the authority she could muster.”

“Would you excuse me for just a moment, ma’am,” queried Mr. Miller.

“Sure..” came the response.

Steve stepped out of Peg’s office and got on his iPhone. 5 minutes later, Peg’s phone rang. A few minutes after that, Ms. Pritchett emerged.

“Could you please come back into my office, Mr. Miller,” she asked, very timidly.

“Why, but of course,” came the response.

“Seems as though Merrymount is a subsidiary of AGF, and your company owns it, Mr. Miller?”

“Precisely!” Knowing exactly how he had hammer-locked this tidbit employee, Steve went into action.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Peg.” You will give Ms. Kaufmann your finest suite immediately; the caterers are waiting.”

“Yes, sir”

“At 5pm, you, and that nice girl who works outside, Leslie..?”

“Yes, Leslie.”

“The two of you will come and be part of the meeting. Is all of this perfectly clear,” he said with incredible, but soft-spoken authority.

“Yes, sir.”

******************************

The meeting began promptly at 4:30. Daniella Kaufmann, CEO, Steve Miller, Executive Director, eight members of the Board of Trustees, and 2 models, Cheyenne and Mona, were in attendance. Secretary Frank Zenoni read the minutes of the previous meeting, which were approved. Treasurer Mike Kona presented his report, glowing and approved.

About 20 minutes into the meeting, Daniella took over. Her charm, intelligence, wit, and yes, sexuality, as always, won everyone’s attention. But it was her organizational skills that carried everything through so smoothly.

“Before I introduce our new product line, let’s have libations and cuisine!” she said, with a big grin on her face. Well, the company being so successful, why not celebrate? And what a spread it was. Open bar including premium liquors, and the finest of appetizing.. smoked sturgeon, lox, whitefish, sable..  Cold cuts, salads, and even tables devoted to the vegans and those requiring a gluten-free meal. Something for everyone.

 While the group was relishing consuming their favorite cuisine and libation, Daniella again took over.

“And now, while your appetites are being whetted, nurtured, and tantalized, I would like to introduce our new product line to you. As most of you know, one of our many ventures is to produce some of the finest, most effective spanking implements, in this or any market. Our research tries to find anything that could possibly strike a naked buttocks and produce the kind of effects that those who have this predilection yearn for.”

At just that moment, the suite’s doorbell rang. Steve went to the door and there were Ms. Pritchett, looking most contrite, and Leslie, her friendly desk girl. “Well, look what we have here, one nice girl, named Leslie, and one not nice one named.. um, Ms. Piggish,” announced Steve. “That’s Pritchett,” blurted Peg. “Oh, well, for now, we’ll just refer to you as Ms. Piggy (laughter..  and humiliation).

Daniella realized that her Prince Valiant, Steve, had provided her with a golden opportunity to extract retribution, and revenge! Without missing a beat or a cue, she started Act I, Scene 1. “First, let’s have our lovely models, Cheyenne and Mona, get comfortable.” The stunning ladies removed their wrap-around skirts in a flash, showing everyone their hot bodies, now clad only in their thong bikinis. Talk about rear ends that just seem to yearn to be spanked! “We had planned to test out these newest implements on your stunning posteriors ladies, but I think it’s time for you to turn the tables and let Ms. Piggy be the guinea!” Uproarious laughter, more embarassment. “So, what are you waiting for girls, let the games begin,” shouted Daniella, gleefully.

Mona and Cheyenne hopped into action, grabbing Peg’s arms and wrestling her down to her undies in record time. Before anyone could say, “Moi?,” she was over Cheyenne’s knee. Cheyenne, no novice at delivering a spanking, began with fairly crisp smacks over those rather thick undies. After a couple dozen of those, she 86ed the ugly undies and began working on the bare. Peggy started to yelp a bit and Daniella cut her off, “Oh come on, we’re being really nice to you by giving you this warm up.” The flabby cheeks started to glow pink and, strangely enough, they looked better!

Cheyenne, whose hand was starting to feel what Ms. Pritchett’s butt was, turned her prey over to Mona, who let loose with quite a flurry. After several dozen spanks, the pink was reddening a bit, with a strawberry or two. Daniella went over to Leslie and whispered, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Ms. Kaufmann clapped her hands, in rhythm with the spanks, and said, “Are we ready to reveal our new line of products?” “YES!” came the unison response from the spectators. And with that, Steve rolled out a novel looking bicycle, with remote control and.. cuffs! “Ladies and gentlemen, DKE has bought the rights to this ingenious device from a researcher working on something called the B.A.C.O.N. project. Mona and Cheyenne were familiar with it and they dragged Peggy, now totally nude, over to it, securing her wrists and ankles with a touch of the remote. They positioned her rump perfectly for the testing of these implements. And just to make her life a little more unpleasant, they turned on the bike, forcing her to pump those pedals, which made those cheeks ever-so-tempting to punish.

Steve pulled back a purple satin cloth to reveal about a dozen new implements of all sorts. There were paddles made of imported woods in various sizes, from pocket-book size to deadly. Riding crops, buggy whips, straps..  it was a spankophile’s cornucopia.

“Now I’d like each of you to pick out whichever titillates you the most, and try it on our special guest, Ms. Pissit,” said Steve. “It’s Pritchett,” exclaimed Peggy. “You shouldn’t correct me,” said Steve, who grabbed the large Malaysian wood paddle, raised it high, and brought it down with a WHACK, right across the sweet “sit spot.” Peg screamed. Her cheeks reddened almost immediately. “Well, I guess we’ll use this one somewhat judiciously; after all, we’re not sadists,” chortled Steve.

One by one, the guests tried each and every implement. There were paddles made of the finest leather that produced sounds truly musical to the ear. Canes that swished and left perfect “lines” across the buttocks. And riding crops that left beautiful marks. After about 15-20 minutes of this, the members were satisfied with nearly all of these beautiful toys. A few had some criticisms, which were duly noted so that the products could be further refined and retested.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please,” announced Steve. It was hard to stop everyone having such a good smacking time but the group acquiesced.  “There is one last thing on the agenda here that we must attend to. You see, a wrong must be righted, and our CEO, Ms. Kaufmann, and this lovely employee of Ms. Piggy, have both been subjected to abuse in the workplace. Therefore, I think it only fitting that Daniella choose whichever implement she feels will be most effective and deliver 10 of the best, whilst Peggy count each blow and apologize to Leslie.” He was greeted by cheers, applause and whistles from a crowd anxious to witness this charming scenario.
Steve went over to his darling associate and whispered, “Now I really want you to potch that tuchas good, darling.” Steve knew that those Yiddish words, which mean smack that ass, roughly, would find a soft spot in Daniella’s soul.

Dana brought the souped-up bike to a halt and positioned the target for herself. Then she carefully selected a paddle. It wasn’t the biggest, thickest or heaviest, but it may have been the one that produces the most sting and burn. Leslie positioned herself, at Steve’s direction, directly in front of Leslie, so she could watch carefully observe her reactions.

SMACK, came the first blow, catching Peggy completely unprepared. “I didn’t hear ONE, I’m sorry Leslie,” so we’ll have to re-do that one. Ready,” asked Steve. Sniffling, Peg said yes. SMACK! “One, I’m sorry Leslie.”

“Look at her when you say that,” ordered Steve

TWO was even harder. Peg was fighting the tears. By the time Daniella got to FOUR she had given in to it all. Daniella felt this and, for once in her life, the satisfaction of knowing that someone was getting what they deserved, and would most likely not be repeating this abominable treatment of others. Whacks FIVE through TEN were delivered like a real professional. Daniella was no novice to delivering a perfect paddling, with major reddening but no skin breaks or bleeding.

Ms. Peggy Pritchett was released from the device. She immediately went to Leslie and apologized. Rubbing her raw ass, she went over to Daniella, apologized and thanked her.

Steve put his arm around Daniella. “What say, as soon as our meeting is adjourned, we go out for some Thai food, sugar? I’ll do the ordering.” Oh, yes, purred Daniella.

Both of them knew that Peggy Pritchett would not be sitting at her desk again for quite some time.

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

DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday site update: 8/19

 

Cousins Caught in the Closet
CousinCloset3

 

I’ve agreed to watch my sisters’ brats while they take a well-needed break. These two cousins are so bad –  the minute I turn my back on them, they’ve snuck into my implement closet and tried spanking each other – with a cane and wooden paddle! Dragging them out of the closet, I force them both up against the wall and bare their naughty bottoms for a hard caning (for him) and paddling (for her), simultaneously.
When they start to argue about whose fault it is that they’ve been caught, I lose my temper and pull off my belt, landing it on their already sore bottoms over and over again.

 

(Click the title link for more preview photos and download link.)
 
Live Session Video: The Panty Thief
PantyThief3
 

Marital discipline roleplay with a cute, young playmate.

What is he doing with my panties?! Wait, some of these aren’t even mine..they’re too big for me..
Has he been wearing panties?
Watch me catch him playing with panties, force him to put them on, and then spank his bottom good and hard.

(Click the title link for more preview photos and download links.)
Ass-Centric
Asscentric2

Sexy F/f spanking video with Dana Kane.
She’s posed herself just as I asked, eyes covered, and ass up. I slide my hands into pretty white lace gloves, massage, spank, and tickle her bottom with feathers.
After removing the gloves, I rub massage oil into her pink bottom’s swollen skin, then spank her hard with my bare hands while sitting on her legs.

Lots of sexy whispering, rubbing, tickling, and fingernails…

(Click the title link for more preview photos and download links.)
 
 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

New ! "Pic Your Bum" Photo Contest


Since the writing contests are so much fun, and I’ve had an enormous amount of positive feedback from them, it seems only right to continue the trend.

While I receive many excellent entries to each story writing contest, I’ve also received many emails from readers who just aren’t confident enough in their writing skills to enter. So I’ve decided to host a new set of contests, for those of you who aren’t natural writers, and to give away some fun spanking-related prizes to the winners. 

The first new contest will be:

‘Pic Your Bum’


This one should be a LOT of fun:

Take a self-shot photo of your bottom. Your photo may be either pre- or post-spanking, clothed or nude, and funny, interesting, sexy, or whatever else you come up with.

Include in your photo a piece of paper on which you’ve written “Pic Your Bum” (so I know that the photo is you, and taken specifically for the contest).

All entries will be posted here on my blog, and other readers will choose the winner.

Please, no overtly sexual or obscene imagery.


The winner will receive, via US mail, a DVD copy of Sternwood Academy.


Sternwood Academy is a finishing school for young ladies needing to be taught the social graces of high society, higher education, and stern discipline – all of which is taught through “the seat of education”! This 101 minute High Definition DVD is going to the head of the class! Starring Feenix Spanks, Dana Kane, Coach Michaels, Cali Katarina, Cheyenne Jewel, Ella Darling, Heather Green, Alex Reynolds, and Lucky Sky.


Email your photo entry to me at:
danakanespanks@gmail.com

Remember, your entry means that you agree to allow me to share it.

Good luck!

– Dana

The contest will run for a couple weeks, with entrants posted up just after the first of the month, in September. Then readers will be given a week to vote on the winner.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Conversations with Spankos (Ch.12): Bratting


Since bratting has been somewhat of a theme in my personal life of late, I thought that it would make an excellent topic of conversation today.

If you’ve seen the recently posted Angel’s Delrin Punishment video (and others), you are well aware of my personal opinions on things like bratting, ‘topping from the bottom’, and Asking For It. These are, in my opinion,titles we use for those times when a spanko wants/needs a spanking and won’t just come out and say so. Yes, the bratting is part of the fun – and some spankings would be much less enjoyable without a bit of it – but the outcome for the bottom is the same: a sound spanking.

And where would we tops be without playmates who are willing to misbehave in order to gain our attentions?

Many of my playmates tell me outright that they’re unapologetic brats, and that they have all intention to use those brat skills to push my buttons, so to speak. This always tickles me to no end. Without their hard work and attention to detail I would rarely have the opportunity to state indignantly “How DARE you do that, young man (or young lady)?!”

But sometimes line-crossing occurs; playful bottoms become so engaged in their fun bratting activities that it is sometimes forgotten that this isn’t entirely a ‘game’. To my mind, there must be some inherent top/bottom-perspective respect – from all parties – for the protocols of power exchange. This means that, at some point, bratting must be dealt with, and without prejudice, anger, or resentment. 

This is an excellent time for you (tops, bottoms, and especially switches) to give your perspectives on bratting – is this behavior which you encourage or actively participate? What do you feel are the reasons that spanking play is so often associated with brat behavior? Is the brat persona real, or manufactured?

 –  Dana

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

Sternwood Academy now available! (Preview video and photos)



Ladies and Gentlemen,

Welcome to Sternwood Academy.




This is a fantastic new project on which I’ve been working with my friends at Alpine Sierra Studios. In it, several naughty schoolgirls are taught how to be proper ladies, and to comport themselves with dignity and respect. When they do not, serious discipline is in order.



Watch as Coach Michaels, Feenix, and I take these young ladies in hand:
(Featuring Cali Cutie, Alex Reynolds, Cheyenne Jewel, Ela Darling, Heather Michaels, and Lucky Sky.)





Sternwood Academy is available on High Definition DVD, at PaddlesandPanties.com and Amazon.com.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Travel Update: October 9-12


Tuesday through Friday, October 9-12, I will be re-visiting  my playmates in Chicago, Detroit, and St. Louis. 

Please read the Appointments page before emailing:
danakanespanks@gmail.com

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

Angel’s Delrin Punishment – (Free Spanking Video)



 


Angel has been bratting, publicly, for the past few months, on social networking sites like Twitter. 

 


After allowing both Angel and The VBB enough rope to hang themselves, so to speak, I decided it was time for punishment.

 


The following video is Angel’s Delrin Punishment:

(What follows is real punishment – not brutal, but certainly not for the squeamish. And Angel’s tears are real, too…)

–  Dana

If the video does not play immediately, double-click the image below to open it in new browser tab.

 

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

DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday site update: 8/12

Dana Kane – Bad Sport

BadSport1I have been waiting for over twenty minutes, and now he’s made me miss an important business meeting…because he’s been playing games! His laid-back attitude just makes me more angry, and I snatch the large sport paddle from his hands, bend him right over, and administer a hard, fast paddling. He won’t keep me waiting again.

(Click on the title link for more photos and download link.)

 

Angel’s Spankotherapy: Road Rage (Episode 2) 

SpankotherapyRage3
Episode Two in the series Angel’s Spankotherapy: Road Rage.
Angel admits that her therapy is working thus far, so we dive into the next subject – her inability to control her emotions while driving. We speak for several minutes, about the specific situations she gets into, and then follow with her impact therapy: 100 strokes with a braided leather strap. Road rage is dangerous, and Angel must learn how important this lesson really is.

All Spankotherapy Episodes are available in both Short and Extended Versions. Both versions include the same spanking scene, with the Extended version including the full, twenty-plus minute dialogue.

(Click on the title link for more photos and download link.)

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

Brief Encounter spanking story: ‘The Gambler’

Anthony has sent along another excellent story for the Brief Encounter story contest, and, although he wasn’t eligible for the prize – it’s a great read. Thanks, Anthony!


– Dana

*****

The Gambler


by Anthony


It was finally Ryan’s stop. There was a prolonged screech then he had
to nudge a pregnant woman and three tourists out of the way with his
knee to get out the train doors. The thing is, he thought, if you
didn’t work in the City, you bet your nattiest bermuda shorts that you
didn’t belong on the commuter train during rush hour.


The train wooshed its goodbye, hurtling away to its next destination.


Uh-oh, wait! He turned and beckoned to the almost vanished train.
Something was wrong here. Really wrong.


What should have been a bustling train station, his station, the
station he frequented each work day for better or worse, was
completely empty. Empty as in not a living body within sight.


A white painted sign on the pitted and tagged concrete wall adjacent
to the tracks exclaimed: Nowhere Station.


Nowhere Station?


What the hell had he stepped into now? Furthermore, what deranged
person put graffiti on the wall of Nowhere Station?


That was when he heard the sound. Sound was a charitable word for what
was most certainly a guitar in great pain somewhere down the tunnel:


And the sons of Pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers’ magic carpets made of steel.
Mothers with their babes asleep,
Are rockin’ to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.


Good God. His day was worsening by the second. Against better
instincts he started walking toward the noise, apologizing to Arlo
Guthrie for what he’d find.


Rounding a bend in the tunnel, he saw a upper-middle-aged man in a
worn herringbone sport coat seated on a concrete step, picking at the
guitar.


“You know, if you don’t practice, it plays hell on your fingers to
start up,” the man said, focusing on his strings and not looking
Ryan’s way. “Kind sir,” the man finally looked up at Ryan, “I broke a
string – would you have five bucks so I can get a replacement?”


Ryan considered offering him a twenty to take up a different
instrument, but said “Where am I? Please tell me you’re a figment of
my imagination.”


“You have arrived at Nowhere. Don’t you think I’m real?”


Ryan just shook his head.


“Are you comin’ or are you going?”


“I take that train every day,” Ryan said. “I’ve never had this happen.”


“I gave up the smokes,” the man said, strumming absentmindedly, almost
pleasantly. “That’s what killed him, you know?”


Nowhere Station was humid this day, and the man was sweating
profusely. He slid his pick between a couple strings in the neck of
the guitar and reached for an accent of red color in his coat’s breast
pocket. Ryan considered offering him a clean handkerchief but quickly
recanted.


“He told me a lotta stuff beforehand though, and you know at the time
it always sounds good.”


Suprisingly Ryan saw that instead of the expected handkerchief, the
man had pulled out a clean and folded pair of red panties and was
ready to wipe his brow with them. The man caught the mistake and shook
his head. “I been doing that more, lately. Like to say it’s because I
gave up whiskey, but there’s a small chance it might also be age
related.”


He laughed and pulled muddied linen from some other crevice that Ryan
didn’t want to know about, wiped his brow and returned the
handkerchief. The man waved the red panties in the air, “I keep these
laundered. They have sentimental value for me.”


Ryan was transfixed by the panties, estimating that they didn’t really
appear to fit the man. The man asked “Ever been on the other side,
young fella?”


Ryan looked from the gyrating panties, directly into the man’s eyes.
Back to the panties. Back to the man’s eyes.


“I’m not sure who you are,” Ryan said slowly. “I don’t even know where
I’m at. I never thought I’d say this…but all I really want at this
point in the worst way is to see the gray walls of cubeland and the
world’s most boring financial spreadsheet on the dismal flat panel
display on my desk.”


“The other side,” the man continued. “You know what I mean? You don’t
always have to give, you know? You can also be a winner on the
receiving end.”


“After I met him on the train coming here and we parted company,
abruptly,” the man reflected, “I thought I’d turn good overnight. Just
like magic.” He laughed. “You know, old man meets young man. A taste
of some advice and then I’m a shark too.”


“Well, I started hanging out here more often, and I met a lot of good
people.” The old man looked at Ryan. “People like yourself that would
drop in for a bit, then leave for Somewhere Else Station.” He added,
“You won’t be staying long here either, my friend.”


Ryan nodded agreement on the first thing the man had said that made sense.


“I didn’t play the guitar so well then, but I always had a deck of
cards with me. So, when they came to the station, always a little out
of sorts, I’d be the Welcome Wagon, the Greeter, and somehow no matter
who it was, we always ended up playing a single hand of poker. For
some small wager.”


“Of course I still got the cards,” the man said, laying the panties
over his leg temporarily and pulling out a boxed deck from his sport
coat pocket, handing them to Ryan.


“I didn’t get good overnight, but I got passable, especially with more
practice. And more confident. I started winning more than I lost.
Anyway, one day a fine young woman dropped in. I remember her
distinctly ’cause she was wearing a bright red dress. Well, and ’cause
of the rest.” He laughed.


Ryan leaned forward, interested despite himself. “Red? You mean red
like the panties?”


That man nodded and continued, “She had short black hair and a lean
frame. Confused like the others, but it wasn’t gettin the best of her.
When I first saw her, she looked short, but then standing next to me,
nose to nose, she musta been at least five and a half, probably three
or four more than that. She was young, but she held herself up in
conversation.”


The man paused his story, scratching at his chin. “I don’t wanna say
bossy, ’cause it wasn’t that exactly. She did have a certain air about
her, though, that made it look like she was used to bein’ listened
to.’


“Anyway, like the others, I friendly-talked for awhile, then when it
felt good I suggested we do a quick, single game of five card draw. I
asked her, I said ‘You do know how to play five card draw, right?'”


“Well, she’d nodded and smiled and told me that where she was from
they played a lot of cards and that it sounded like fun.”


“And get this, my young friend,” the guitar man leaned in toward Ryan.
“She says to me: ‘I’m sure you’ll want to have some type of stakes
involved. I’m afraid I don’t carry much cash, but I do have an idea of
what we could play for.'”


“Well, then she nearly knocked my socks off with a proposition for the
winner. If I won, she said, she’d stand in front of me, and slowly
strip off the exquisite–that was her word, exquisite–silky red
panties she was wearing under her red dress. And that those panties
would be mine for all of time.”


“But get this,” the man continued. “She said the flip side of it was
that if she somehow got lucky and won, and she figured there wasn’t
much chance of that, that I’d have a sore bottom for a week,
guaranteed. Cause she’d take off her black shoe (‘This one right
here’) and bend me over the concrete we’re sitting on right now. Then
she’d lower my trousers and paddle my behind with the sole of that
shoe.”


The man asked Ryan, “Now does that sound like a wager or what?”


Listening to the story, Ryan wondered if guitar man was putting him
on. It was the strangest thing he’d ever heard of and if he ever got
out of Nowhere Station, the happy hour crowd was going to love this
one. Truth or not be damned.


“Honestly, I wanted those red panties bad. I wanted to watch her slide
them down her thighs and over those tight little calves. And to see
her lift each high heel, one at a time, to step out. I wanted to see
how that beautiful red dress clung to her tight bottom as she bent
over to pick up the panties and hand them to me.”


The man reached in his sport coat, retrieved the handkerchief, and
wiped his brow again.


“I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. You’re thinking that
this proves that every so often the good guys do win and that life
does have a few happy stories.”


“Well I let her deal, and it sure started right. I was anything but
out of aces – in fact, she’d dealt me not two of them, but three. And
all that before the draw.”


“Well, of course we weren’t playing draw the way it’s normally done,
with an opportunity to add to the pot, bluff, and so on. And I don’t
know why I did it, but when I saw the three of a kind, I leaned over
to her and said, ‘I much would like to see those panties, but if you
want to fold now, we’ll call it off and forget we ever started this
game.'”


Ryan saw humor flare in the man’s eyes as he continued. “Well,” he
said, “she wanted nothing to do with that. She was going to start what
needed to be finished, and she wanted just one card.”


“To make a long story short, when we flipped ’em I still had those
beautiful three aces, but she had something better. She had a lot of
hearts. Lots and lots of them. Enough that it made my stomach churn.”


“I’ve thought about it since. She wasn’t much surprised about the
outcome, but she did mention how those hearts almost matched her
dress, and the panties that I couldn’t see. But then she said that
what the cards were going to match most would be my red hot bottom
when was done spanking me.”


The man stopped for a bit, cocking an eye at Ryan. “I’ve always kept
my word. And I did so on that day as well. She spanked hard and fast
and I squirmed like a little boy. And the shoes off those dainty
little feet put a lot of hurt in my backside. The only thing she
really said as she paddled me was ‘I’ve done a little bit of this
too.'”


“Well, my friend, the story does have a happier ending.”


Ryan noticed that train tracks below were starting to vibrate, only
slightly now, but the man noticed as well. He nodded at Ryan.


“Happy, just like your story’s gonna end. Anyway, when she was done,
she gave me one last hard smack on the behind, this time with her
hand, which hurt nearly as bad as the shoe, and then she almost had to
scrape me out of a ball. My eyes were running. True to her word, I
couldn’t sit comfortable for a long time. But what she did, as I knelt
there looking at her, she slid out of those silky red panties in the
most graceful way, she lifted them up in front of my eyes, then she
slid them into my pocket as slick as all get out. And I’ve had ’em
ever since.” The man smiled and nodded at Ryan.


The tracks were rattling noticeably and Ryan saw an opportunity. “I’m
late for work,” he told the man, rising to his feet and starting back
where he had departed the train.


As he turned back over his shoulder and yelled “Thanks, but I don’t
believe you!” Ryan heard the terrible guitar burst back into action
and somewhere among the screeching he picked up a few of the words:



if you’re gonna play the game, boy, you gotta learn to play it right.
You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away and know when to run.


before the rest was lost in the roar of the approaching train.

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Travel Update: September 25-29

This week finds me revisiting Pittsburgh and Richmond, and making my first trips to Washington D.C. and Raleigh, North Carolina – Tuesday through Saturday, September 25-29th, 2012.


Disciplinary consideration in these cities is limited. Please read the Appointments page before emailing:
danakanespanks@gmail.com.

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

Spanking Therapy with Ms. Dana Kane, by Angel


Angel has written about the week we’ve spent together, the videos we’ve worked on, and some of her real-life issues which we’ve tackled together..

Spanking Therapy with Ms. Dana Kane
This is my second trip to Las Vegas, as many of you will already know, to film with Dana.  At her suggestion, I agreed that between fun/role-play spankings, we could incorporate “spanking therapy” into our film agenda.
I have never actually officially engaged in “sessions” where the focal point was talk therapy followed by an aversive consequence, such as spanking.  And I would not recommend it with just anyone.  Having known Dana for some time now, interacting with her in person and via e-mails, I have come to realize she is a reliable source for structure and guidance.  She is trustworthy, intelligent, intuitive and she politely but firmly calls you on your bullsh*t – which an extremely uncomfortable position to be in when it’s quite evident any manipulation tactics will be thwarted during the verbal interaction, and then she will spank you for it.  But I was rather curious about the experience and so it didn’t take me very long to agree to it.
In order to make the experience as real as possible for both of us, Dana and I talked about some real-life issues that I need help resolving.  There were some general things she already knew, some things that I told her and others she could have just guessed.  We decided to touch upon those things when I came here, and I suggested some more specific accountability exercises to see how I would fare knowing I would have to face her and report my progress.  For a month she gave me a list of things to do, and things not to do.  I was not able to consistently follow through, probably because the event was so far away in my mind that I wasn’t really digesting the consequences. 
Thankfully, her influence was enough to keep me at least half-way on track, which is often difficult for me.  The idea of her as a boundary enforcer limited my maladaptive behaviors and helped me to keep up with positive ones.  Naturally, this is not a perfect science and I fell short.
 Ironically a lot of this happened the last couple of days before the trip.  Not on purpose.  Those two days before the trip was all I really needed to show her the significance of the behaviors we agreed to address: excessive spending, road rage, procrastination and excuse-making/manipulation. 
Fearing I would miss something for the trip, I ended up spending a lot of money at the last minute because I didn’t take enough time to organize, I had an episode of road rage on my trip to the drugstore to acquire some of these things (sorry Dana, I failed to mention that), I procrastinated with every single thing which left me in a mad rush before the flight.  I over-packed, was charged for the extra checked bag, I left my laptop charger home and had to buy one for nearly $100, I had to spend most of the plane ride hand writing the things I was supposed to print out for her because I forgot to print them.  Then when I arrived, I made many excuses – for which there has been a consistently growing penalty which awaits me soon, among other things.
As for what has already taken place, we have completed the first couple of sessions.  The first therapy session had me quite on edge.  I was extremely nervous and there was little I could do to justify my behavior, and I had to mostly stoically sit there and listen to her challenge and defeat nearly everything I tried to say.  She was entirely right, which I was hoping would not be the case.  But I’m glad it was.  She forced me to recognize things I refused to see and gently enforced consequences without making me feel guilty or “bad.”
 I definitely gained some insight and perspective and now there is video evidence so that I have no recourse if I try to make excuses for reoccurring behaviors.   We talked about the spending both on and off camera, quite a bit, and she made some points I absolutely cannot contest.  We are still discussing it, and I did receive a 5 minute hand-spanking over her lap.
 It wasn’t severe and it’s difficult to make a spanko dislike spanking.  It was definitely hard, and pride-injuring.  There were most definitely aspects of it that were uncomfortable, as it’s quite a humbling experience – but I never felt unsafe or uncared for.  The more uncomfortable it became at certain points, the more I knew she did care – and that’s when you have to submit and embrace that discomfort and let it influence you. 
Ms. Dana Kane likes to spank people, A LOT, and she likes for them to enjoy it.  So it’s probably a little difficult for her to have to administer a spanking not entirely meant to be enjoyed – especially to me, as we do have more than just a business relationship and she knows and understands my overly sensitive and paranoid nature.  She skillfully (and I do believe this is a skill) created a balance for me that I greatly needed, a security – with her gentle nature and her administration of discipline without physically or emotionally harming me.  It was very easy to talk to her, even on camera, and for a moment I forgot we were being filmed, that she was not actually a therapist and that I was going to get spanked.
The second “session” regarding road rage, I was even less intimidated and so comfortable with her that I was able to express myself without fear of judgment – fear of punishment/discipline, yes.  But that’s what we agreed upon.  Fear of judgment, not really.  I was very vocal about my opinions, was allowed to contest what she said without being yelled at or severely admonished.  She made the points she had to make in no uncertain terms and disciplined me for behaviors I should not engage in despite my emotional impulses to. 
She spanked me with a braided strap and I got the warning I would now be accountable to her, which is necessary, because being accountable to ME is quite challenging.  It was painful but she did not push beyond what she intuited I could handle physically or emotionally – and that kind of trust is imperative if someone is going to engage in this kind of a “session,” which I strongly encourage for people seeking real discipline for issues affecting them in their lives that they need help with… whether it’s to truly change the behavior or simply to relieve the guilt that consequently arises from that behavior or maybe even something so simple as to experience the feeling that someone cares.  And Dana does care.  She takes her disciplinary spankings quite seriously.  Her spankings can be extremely fun, but if you are there for real discipline – you are going to receive it.
The next two sessions address procrastination and making excuses/manipulation.  The finale – making excuses and manipulation, I anticipate will be the harshest.  I’m not entirely sure but I suspect she’s been working her way up in terms of discipline, making the punishment fit the crime (so to speak) and physically preparing me over the course of a few days to be able to physically endure the last of it by conditioning my bottom with spankings that have increased in frequency and intensity.  We didn’t specifically talk about it, but at least it feels as if she is taking me through stages of intensity – where the last one session, which will be administered with the birch and a bundle of willow switches will be meant to drive the point home. 
Since making excuses is the root of all of my problems, because I can really rationalize anything (at least to me) – I think this one will be meant to impart a real lesson.  I won’t give away all the details, but she has been preparing me for this session since the second I walked into her home.  The final stage of my own participation will be to have to personally soak the rods I will be punished with.  I’ve already been impacted by the first couple of sessions and am thinking about things with a different mindset. 
Will it be a permanent change?  Probably not quite yet.  But I am in no hurry to forget these experiences, and learning from them can produce a world of good so I intend to keep them close, and I anticipate my bottom will not let me forget for a while.  I am fairly confident all of the sessions will be reinforced as she “thrashes” me after talking to me (which is really the part I am dreading the most because I have no recourse, and if I get accused of making an excuse DURING the discussion on excuses – well, then I’m really in trouble).
I am a little afraid, to be honest.  It’s going to be very uncomfortable for me to talk about this and I am pretty sure the birchings are going to make a strong impression because by the time it’s said and done she’s probably going to run out of twigs.  Perhaps now would be a good time to take a vow of silence.  I don’t trust my own self.  Excuses just come flying out of my mouth and I don’t even realize what I’m saying.  However, I need help with this.  I need discipline, structure and guidance, someone to be accountable to and someone who can gently point out the error of my ways, and discipline me for them efficiently without judging me for them and who will not let me manipulate my own out of being punished.
Ms. Dana Kane is very good at that.  She could probably be very angry with me right now, because I have behaved inappropriately on public forums – failing to realize the boundary that defines “too far,” and completely ignoring the caution sign that clearly states: “You should probably quit here.  Seriously, quit here.”   I’m referring here to the “Delrin punishment,” (which probably everyone reading this will know about) that I am going to receive right after the birching. 
We had a talk about it earlier, and she scared the shit out of me without any single harsh world or raised voice, even.  She merely explained that I was not getting out of it, no matter what and that she’d keep me up until 4:00am in the morning if she had to in order to administer it, had we happened to be running short on time. 
I tried I guess, not so subtly, asking her about what to do if I need to stop.  The answer is apparently nothing.  When she imposes a punishment (which I have been warned about) that’s the end of it.  Naturally, I have consented to lend myself to her care, and I trust her to punish me without harming me.  This is not about business, or a situation in which she would find herself with a client – this is a personal issue, and in this situation (given the nature of our relationship and juxtaposing positions in the D/s dynamic) one that is solved with a spanking…  in this case a monumental spanking that includes every single one of her delrin implements to be administered after a thorough spanking/whipping with birch and willow branches. 
I’m not looking forward to this, but she explained to me concretely why it had to be done.  She used a tone with me that wasn’t at all mean or threatening, but definitely intimidating and not one she uses very often with me.  I’m pretty sure she only used it once and that landed me across her knee with cascading blows with her hairbrush that I did not wish to receive in quite that fashion.
This is more serious than that, I understand.  It’s more serious than a regular punishment and I am grossly intimidated.  But I have an absolutely tremendous amount of respect for Dana, as a person and as a Disciplinarian, and although this punishment is probably going to be extremely painful physically and discomforting emotionally – I, too, understand it’s necessary. 
Some of us push boundaries, like children, to see what we can get away with.  Sometimes we get away with a lot.  Dana was pretty generous with my behavior (and that of TheVBB) before she decided (without our knowledge) that she was going to impose rather unpleasant consequences after we kind of threw ourselves across the line. 
And she’s not mad.  She’s not threatened as a Top (she can’t be topped from the bottom, because she’s a genuine Top) and she is able to find a certain sort of satisfaction in it.  She encourages a little bratting, but we did more than a little and had our share of entertainment during the process when we were far removed from her presence.  I did read (but apparently didn’t compute until now) that she was merely standing by and keeping count of the offenses, of which there are quite a few. 
And her last words to me about the Delrin punishment, after her creative pre-punishment of making me remove the tags off of every single implement she is going to spank me with and then having me put them in a place where they are constantly visible to me, was something to the effect of: “I’m going to have as much fun now as you two had then.” 
There was really nothing left to say after that.  Soon the VBB and myself will be suffering significant blows to both our egos and our backsides – and in the way that those subs such as myself and VBB need accountability in our lives and someone with the ability to discipline us genuinely and lovingly, but sometimes necessarily harshly – I don’t think either one of us could love her any more for it.
Angel
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Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com site update: 8/5

Angel’s Spankotherapy: Excessive Spending
Episode One in the new series Angel’s Spankotherapy: Excessive Spending

Angel has come to me, asking for help with some real-life issues. We spend several minutes discussing her spending behavior, then she timidly goes over my knee for a five minute, bare-bottom hand spanking.

There are two versions of this series available, a short version and an extended version. Each contains the same spanking scene, with the exteded version containing the complete twenty-plus minute dialogue; the short version features an edited dialogue.

For more photos and descriptions, click on the title link above.

SpankotherapySpending3

 

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VBB Open Letter

In the ongoing saga of The VBB, Angel, and their neverending efforts to be the most misbehaving brats in the history of spanking:




An Open Letter to Ms. Dana Kane From the Founder and President of S.A.D    (Subs Against Delrin)

Dear Ms. Kane,
 I hope this letter finds you in good health and in an optimistic and carefree spirit. Both Angel and I enjoy the many opportunities we have had in the past to interact with you and for the times we have played together with you. We both feel honored we share such a wonderful relationship with you and have had the privilege of being counted among your friends. We both share the deepest respect for you and are appreciative for the friendship, mentoring and guidance you offer each of us. We understand such a relationship truly stands on mutual trust and respect. While we highly treasure our relationship with you, we are both very concerned with the current situation that we find ourselves. We understand that in any relationship there are times when misunderstandings can and do arise, it is during these times that true friendship will stand the test of time.  We are both eager to ensure that we maintain a healthy respect and friendship with you
Recently it has come to our attention there may have been some, as you call it, “Line Crossing” in exchanging tweets between Angel, myself, the Wonderful Wife and yourself. We all understand that Twitter can be a fun way to tease and joke around with one another. We also understand there are times when inadvertently something is tweeted that is either unfortunate or maybe considered a bit inappropriate. During these times it is expected that friends would overlook such indiscretions and easily move past said indiscretions without taking anything personally. However, there are occasions that may arise where one party is temporarily unable to move past such an indiscretion. That is when we expect a gentle reminder to be issued that certain tweets maybe coming close to crossing a line. The proper response would be from the offending party to acknowledge any indiscretion and then promise not to commit such an offense again. This way the issue is resolved, friendships are intact and all is well.
 On occasion the one who is offended my unintentionally escalate such an indiscretion and seemly take action that is clearly disproportioned to the said indiscretion.  Both Angel and myself feel that such a case has indeed taken place concerning the recent Tweets that Angel and I have sent. We both feel you may have mistakenly taken our tweets a bit more personally than you ought to. We would have cut back on the tweets we sent if we had only known you were finding them a bit too cheeky. However, since we never received any sort of warning from you that our tweets were “Crossing a Line.” We feel we are being treated unfairly and unjustly with your unprecedented pronouncement of “punishment” which you announced on your blog. We feel very strongly that you may have been a bit rash in your decision to punish us for our tweets and you may indeed be taking our tweets too personally. We would highly encourage you to reconsider this unjust punishment and admit that you have jumped the gun a bit and made such an announcement prematurely. We understand you are very busy and at times your stress level must be very high which would cause you to inadvertently make a hasty judgment call. In the interest of maintaining our outstanding relationship we are both willing to let this matter fall to the wayside and we will gracefully accept your apology for this misunderstanding that has occurred between us. 
 We eagerly await your reply to our open letter and look forward to laying this nasty issue aside and moving foreword from this point. Please be assured that we hold no ill feelings towards you and there is no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed because of this little misunderstanding. Both Angel and I are willing to forgive and forget this matter and not bring it up again. Thank you for your understanding and for your willingness to make this matter right between us.
Sincerely
Mark aka TheVBB – Founder and President of S.A.D International   
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Crimson Moon’s Summer Spanktacular



I had only a short time to spend with this wonderful group of people – a few hours on Saturday night – but am so grateful that I was able to attend. From the minute I walked in, Chicago’s Crimson Moon family welcomed me warmly and made me feel right at home at my first large gathering of spanking enthusiasts. 
Yoni and Mike were both friendly, funny, and obviously dedicated to their members and friends. Each gave a heartfelt speech to the assembled spankos at dinnertime, and it was obvious that the love in the room was 100% real.


I met many of the people with whom I’ve corresponded online, both through email and social networking sites like FetLife. It was cool (and a bit overwhelming) to finally shake hands with so many online friends.


While my visit was short, I did manage to get in a bit of spanking, and boy, was it worth it! The absolutely lovely and hilarious Sarah Gregory was kind enough to ask me to give her a spanking, so I giddily pulled her over my knee for a nice little bare-hand swatting. Sarah is just as sweet and friendly as I knew she would be, and I was tickled to have the opportunity to play with her.


During the first annual Miss OTK USA pageant, I assisted my stellar friend Alex Reynolds for the talent portion, by giving her a short hairbrush spanking while she managed to be painfully cute in her schoolgirl outfit. (I also ended up lending my hairbrush to Yoni for a couple minutes’ use on a pretty lady’s bottom.)


I cannot say enough about this group of people, and am so happy to have had the opportunity to join them in celebrating this thing we do so joyfully.


– Dana

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New Story Contest : Fantasy Island



Readers,


The Person, Place, and Thing spanking story contest for August is:

Fantasy Island


Imagine two well-dressed people…





On a remote Pacific island…





With a bamboo walking stick.

Fill in the blanks, add some fun spanking, and please follow the guidelines below:


  • No characters under the age of 18 years of age.
  • Avoid overtly sexual language, situations, and excessive coarse language.
  • Spankings may be F/M, F/F, M/M, or M/F. 
  • You may include as many other characters as you like, so long as the story is based on your two main characters.
  • Plagiarism is unacceptable.
  • By submitting your story, you agree to allow me to share it, here an on other publishing platforms.


The winner will receive a free spanking session with me in any of the cities which I visit, or in my home city of Las Vegas. If you do not reside in an area that makes it convenient to receive the prize, please enter as a non-contestant so that the winner may actually collect the prize.


Email your stories to danakanespanks@gmail.com.

Good luck!

– Dana

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

Travel Update : September 19-21



I will be making another visit to my friends and playmates in Seattle and Vancouver on Wednesday through Friday, September 19-21, 2012.


For disciplinary consideration, please read the Appointments page before emailing:
danakanespanks@gmail.com.

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

‘Antwerp Central’ : A Brief Encounter M/F spanking story

A late entry to the Brief Encounter story contest, ‘Antwerp Central’ is still certainly worth sharing..

*****


BRIEF ENCOUNTER: Antwerpen Centraal

She looked at her watch and realized she needed to get a move on back to Antwerpen station to catch the 1 a.m. train back to Amsterdam. She could not afford to miss this train so she said her goodbye’s to her friends at the club and headed back. She was completely out of cash from all the barhopping and was thankful to have purchased a RT ticket back to Amsterdam which was safely put away in a locker at the station. 

The square in downtown Brussels was rather quiet with most the cafes closed and only a handful of bars still open. As she approached Antwerpen Centraal, she thought it was rather odd that the building looked so dark? It was the largest station in Brussels and normally bustling with people. She walked up to the main entrance and pulled on the door. The door was locked. She went to a second and third door, also locked. Panic started to set in. “What the hell?” she thought. She walked around to another entrance and thankfully saw a man walking out. Her heart was racing. “Thank you! I was so afraid I missed the last train!” She went running into the station only to find that it was empty. No trains coming or going and not a soul around. She walked to where the lockers were and the area had been locked off with a gate. Her heart was racing and tears began welling up in her eyes. She paced around in disbelief. “How did I Fu** this up?” She walked towards the ticket area to look again at the train schedule. The last train to Amsterdam had departed at 11 p.m. 

“Excuse me young lady, are you alright?” Her heart jumped at the unexpected voice behind her. “I didn’t mean to startle you but I did think it was odd you were running into the station when I came in on the last train this evening. I just wanted to make sure you were okay?” She was so relieved in that moment to see someone AND he was American to boot! He was a tall gentleman, about 60 years old, salt & pepper hair and dressed in a nice grey business suit. “Actually, I’m not okay. I thought the last train back to Amsterdam was at 1 a.m., I have no cash on me and my bag with my ticket is locked up over there in those lockers. On top of that, the next train isn’t until 11 a.m.” she said. “I see,” he said. Let’s sit down and see what we can figure out here. My name is Richard Anderson by the way and your name is?” “Julia. Julia Frances, nice to meet you.” She felt safe with this man and was hopeful that somehow, someway, he’d be able to help her out of this mess. 

“Julia Frances, I don’t want to be intrusive but may I ask how old you are and what brought you to Antwerp? he said. “I’m 20 and I was meeting some of my Rotary exchange student friends here to go clubbing and barhopping. I live in Den Haag but took the train from Amsterdam.” “I see,” he said. “Do your parents know you’re in Belgium tonight?” he asked. “No Sir. My host parents don’t know I’m here. I mean, they’re usually okay with me traveling so long as I go with someone but I don’t think they would have been comfortable with me coming here alone and getting back so late so I didn’t tell them,”she said. “And your Father back home in the States, what would he think about this predicament you’ve gotten yourself into?” he asked. Julia Frances looked down and said “he wouldn’t be very happy.” “Well, if it means anything to you, I have a daughter who’s 18 years old and if I ever heard of her doing something like this,  I’d give her the spanking of her life! Do you realize how dangerous this could have been for you? A young girl, such as yourself, has no business traveling alone to go clubbing and drinking! Now look, I have every intention to take you back to the hotel I’ll be staying at the next few days and I will make sure you’re on that 11 a.m. train myself, but in the meantime, I want you to stand up!” His voice was very authoritive and Julia Frances realized that she needed Richard Anderson to keep her safe and get her home so she got up as he asked her to do. He stood up, took his coat off then sat back down on the bench. Reaching for her arm, he said “over my knee young lady. I know you’re frightened but I’m going to do what any father would do to ensure the safety of his daughter and give you a good reminder to never get yourself into this kind of situation again.” Julia Frances’ heart was beating rapidly as he gently pulled her over his lap. She was wearing a black mini skirt which he lifted up to begin her spanking but as she awaited the first smack, he stopped. “What praytell are you wearing here young lady? GET UP!” Pulling herself off his lap and straightening her skirt out, she said “panties, I don’t understand…” Richard’s eyes turned dark grey as he looked at her. “Is this what you girls are wearing these days?….IS IT?” his voice stronger and harder. “Red, lacey thongs are NOT appropriate for a girl your age and do you even understand the message you’re sending wearing something like this? Back over my knee young lady. You are definitely going to get a spanking you won’t soon forget.” 

Julia Frances hesitantly returned over Richard’s knee. He pulled her black skirt up and pulled the red lace panties down to her mid thighs, well out of the way for his hand to reign down on her soft, white bottom. He rubbed her bottom gently and could feel her heart beating rapidly on his knee. “Now then, are you ready for your spanking young lady?” he asked. “Yes Sir,” she said. He lifted his hand high and gave her a smack to her bottom that echoed throughout the empty station. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!, he spanked her methodically up and down and side to side on both cheeks until he was satisfied with her hot, red behind. The sting was like nothing she had ever experienced and she squirmed to get off his lap but he simply pulled her in tighter and spanked her harder for her struggling. “Please,” she said, “please stop!” After one last SMACK! to the middle of her behind she squealed in pain and he helped lift her off his lap as she threw back her hands to soothe her stinging behind. Tears were streaming down her face and she couldn’t control her sobbing. Richard stood up, looked at her and said “we’re not done young lady.” As Julia Frances continued to sob and look on in horror, Richard unbuckled his belt and slid it out. “Bend over the bench,” he said. “Oh please Mr. Anderson, please! I’ve learned my lesson! I promise!” said Julia Frances. “Over the bench young lady!” he said. With her red lacey panties still pulled to her mid thighs, she bent over the bench and before she could take a deep breath, the CRACK of his belt on her bottom rang out for all the world to hear. “Owwww,” she yelled and she stood upright holding her behind. Richard was quite frustrated with her lack of control so he cracked his belt to her upper thighs. Julia Frances was in full fledged tears but Richard would have none of it and ordered her back over with her hands placed on the bench for the final lick. He made it a good one, landing right across the center of her very reddened behind. With the last lick, Julia Frances crumbled to her knees sobbing like a little girl. Richard put his belt back on and sat on the bench where he pulled Julia Frances up to his chest to give her the warm fatherly hug he would have given his own daughter. “I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson here Julia Frances. Now let’s get you to the hotel and to bed. 11 a.m. will be here before you know it.” 

She got to the platform with 5 minutes to spare. She entered car # 4, out of breath, but happy to be on the train back to Amsterdam. She plopped her bag down on the seat and scooted in towards the window. Across from her sat a businessman, about 60 years old in a grey suit…..
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Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com site update: 7/29

100 Strokes: Lexan Punishment
100Lexan1
Hard punishment is the only cure for him.
One hundred strokes with a large, holed Lexan paddle make his pale cheeks look like he fell off the back of my motorcycle.
He learns to follow instructions, reply ‘Yes, Ma’am’ when asked a simple question… and even his privates aren’t safe during this punishment.
Several close-ups of hard Lexan paddle strokes to the buttocks and thighs.

(Click the title link for more preview photos and download links.)
 
POV: I Would LOVE to Kick Your Ass
KickYourAss2
 
You are a liar. A sneak. And a cheat. I have had enough of you and your lies, and now you’ve made me mad. From now on, you’ll be sleeping on the floor – at the foot of the bed – and doing everything else that I demand. If not, I AM going to kick your ass.
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‘At Stazione Santa Maria Novella’ : Excellent F/M spanking story



This entry to the Brief Encounter story writing contest is beautifully set, and I particularly enjoyed the subject matter. Have fun with ‘At Stazione Santa Maria Novella’.

*****




AT STAZIONE SANTA MARIA NOVELLA
BY THE TIME I FOUND OUR PASSPORTS, WE HAD MISSED THE LAST RAPIDO

TRAIN TO ROMA. WE HAD MISSED IT BY 45 MINUTES. ALEXIS MY BRIDE WAS

NOT AMUSED.  USUALLY I AM ON TOP OF EVERYTHING BUT THIS TRIP, MY FIRST

TO EUROPE HAD BEEN LESS THAN AN IDEAL HONEYMOON FOR EITHER OF US.

HAD I NOT BEEN STILL RECOVERING FROM A NASTY BOUT OF FLU I MAY HAVE

HANDLED THE WHOLE THING IN AN EFFICIENT MANNER.
AS WE SAT IN THE NOW DESERTED STATION, ALEXIS RUMMAGED THROUGH

HER BAG. SHE IGNORED MY NERVOUS CHATTER. HER SILENCE FRIGHTENED

ME.  FINDING HER HAIRBRUSH, SHE BEGAN BRUSHING HER LONG AUBURN
WITH SUCH INTENSITY THAT I JUMPED UP AND BEGAN PACING THE

DESERTED PLATFORM.
“STOP PACING AND SIT !” 

SHE SPOKE SOFTLY BUT WITH A FIRMNESS OF TONE THAT BOTH FRIGHTENED

AND AROUSED ME.  WHEN I  RETURNED TO MY SEAT NEXT TO HER, I SAW IN

HER LAP  THE RED BIKINI PANTIES. THE RED PANTIES WITH THE WHITE LACE

TRIM. THE RED BIKINI PANTIES WITH THE WHITE LACE TRIM THAT SHE HAD

MADE ME WEAR LAST WEEK WHEN WE WERE IN VENICE. 

MY HEART STOPPED AS SHE TOSSED THE PANTIES INTO MY LAP.  MY MIND
FLASHED ON THAT NIGHT IN ONE OF THE DARKENED ALLEYS OF VENICE,  WHEN USING THE SAME BRUSH SHE HAD IN HER HAND NOW, SHE HAD BENT ME OVER, AND WITH SLACKS AND THE RED PANTIES AROUND MY ANKLES
HAD PUMMELED MY BARE BOTTOM UNTIL SHE SAW TEARS.
  ” PUT THEM ON, NOW ! ”  
I KNEW BETTER THAN TO ARGUE. WITH A COLOR IN MY CHEEKS BRIGHTER
THAN THE COLOR OF THE PANTIES I HAD BUNCHED UP IN MY HAND  I
SCURRIED AWAY TO FIND A RESTROOM.

WHEN I RETURNED SHE SAT QUIETLY  SLOWING BRUSHING THE ENDS OF HER
SHOULDER LENGTH RAVEN BLACK HAIR.  THE SILENCE IN THE HUGE AND
DESERTED TRAIN STATION  ONLY ADDED TO MY APPREHENSION.  FEELING
MUCH LIKE A SCHOOLBOY OUTSIDE THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE  I WAITED.
ACROSS THE TRACK AND AT THE OTHER END OF THE STATION I SAW AN ELDERLY WOMAN SWEEPING.  MY HEART SANK.  I AVOIDED LOOKING AT
ALEXIS AND WAITED. FINALLY IT CAME.

  ” ASSUME POSITION NOW !” SHE SAID IN ALMOST A WHISPER.

AS I HAD THAT NIGHT IN VENICE, I STOOD DROPPED MY TROUSERS AND
THE RED PANTIES TO MY ANKLES THEN BENT OVER THE ARM OF THE BENCH AND WAITED.
I DONT RECALL HOW LONG I HAD TO WAIT WITH NERVOUS ANTICIPATION BUT
WILL NEVER FORGET THE SOUND OF BRUSH MAKING CONTACT WITH MY BARE
BOTTOM. IT ECHOED THROUGH THE STATION SWAT AFTER SWAT. I TRIED NOT
TO MAKE A SOUND BUT SOON THE BURN OF THE BRUSH ON MY STILL TENDER
CHEEKS, MADE ME CRY OUT.
  ” MERCY! PLEASE !  I AM SORRY ! “
THE WORDS TUMBLED FROM MY LIPS .EACH PHASE I UTTERED SEEMED SO INADEQUATE TO  WHAT I WAS FEELING. AFTER WHAT SEEMED AN ETERNITY
IT STOPPED. MY ENTIRE BODY FELT THE FIRE AND THE AROUSAL . ***.
  ” COVER YOURSELF ”  SHE SAID IN A MOCKING TONE.
  “THIS IS A PUBLIC PLACE.”
AS I FASTENED MY BELT AND ADJUSTED MYSELF, MY EYES DRIFTED TO THE
END OF THE PLATFORM. SHE WAS STILL THERE  AND WITH HER A VENDOR
WHO WAS OPENING HIS STAND.  HAD THEY BOTH WITNESSED MY HUMILIATION?

WITH A WICKED SMILE THAT SO AROUSED ME SHE SAT AND THEN QUIETLY SPOKE.
“PET ”   SHE SAID,  ” IT LOOKS LIKE THAT VENDOR IS OPENING. DO BE A GOOD
BOY AND FETCH ME AN EXPRESSO “

AS I HEADED DOWN THE PLATFORM TO THE VENDOR, I HEARD ALEXIS
SLOWLY BRUSHING HER HAIR.
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New F/M spanking story, from ‘Brief Encounter’

The Brief Encounter spanking story contest inspired some very talented writers, and I am happy to share those inspirations with others who enjoy reading original spanking stories written by real spankos.  This entry is impressive in it’s detail and language, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time reading.


– Dana

*****

Ben Mitchell checked his watch and let out a sigh of impatience. It was only three after eleven, and the next train was not due until eleven twenty. A gust of cold night air passed through the empty train station, rustling the newspaper clutched in Ben’s hands. Ben wasn’t much in the mood for reading anyway. After putting in five hours of overtime at the brake shop, Ben was eager to get home and get some much needed rest.
Ben didn’t usually stay out this late, but the shop had been a lot busier this month and he’d lost three employees in the past two weeks, so the bulk of the responsibility fell on his shoulders.
It was a bit unsettling seeing the train station so deserted. In twelve hours the station would be bustling with hundreds of commuters, but now it was peacefully silent. Among the vast empty space, Ben noticed the large billboards sprawled across the station walls. These advertisements would normally be concealed by the enormous crowds passing in front of them during the daytime, but now were plainly visible in every direction.
In addition to ads for cell phones, car insurance, and prime-time television shows, one ad in particular caught Ben’s eye. The billboard displayed a gorgeous female model, reclining on her side with her back to the viewer, posing absolutely naked except for a pair of lacy red panties. The brunette beauty looked over her shoulder, staring seductively back at Ben, tempting him to buy the sexy underwear clad tightly around her full, sensuous hips.
Although Ben was not in the market for women’s undergarments, he had to admit the billboard had his attention. The barely clothed woman was a quite fetching sight among the dreary graytrain station. Ben liked that the model was not rail-thin like so many of the covergirls nowadays. The girl in this ad had healthy curves outlining her figure, especially around her hips, buttocks, and thighs. Her rather skimpy panties complemented the full, rounded cheeks peeking out. She had, in Ben’s opinion, a proper woman’s body.
Ben made a mental note to remember that ad, and hopefully find the name of the model in it. He did not recognize her from any other advertisement in his memory, but he hoped this would not be the last time he saw her.
At last a train finally pulled into the station. Ben folded his newspaper under his arm and made his way into one of the locomotive’s many compartments. Not surprisingly, the compartment he chose was empty, save for one person in a winter cap seated at the front of the car. Ben took a seat two rows behind the other passenger and waited as the train sped into motion.
Ben was tempted to close his eyes and attempt a few minutes of shut-eye, but thought the better of it. With his level of fatigue, there was a very real danger of him not waking up in time for his stop. Ben slapped his face with both hands and stared wide-eyed out the window, determined to watch for his stop.
“Excuse me sir?”
Ben was caught off guard by the greeting. The other passenger in his car was talking to him. She was young, in her early twenties, and wrapped in a long blue coat. She’d taken a seat across the aisle from him and now was perhaps the only thing keeping him from drifting into deep slumber.
“Yes?” Ben said wearily.
“Can you tell me if we already passed Hollander? I’m new to this city,” the passenger said.
“No, Hollander isn’t for several more stops,” Ben said. “You should have taken the number six, this one goes the long way.”
“Oh, it figures!” the woman said. “At least I didn’t miss it.”
Ben smiled.
“How long you been in Newport?” Ben asked.
“Just this week,” the woman said. “I’m here for a modeling job, actually.”
Ben should have known. The woman was beautiful. Despite her winter coat, Ben could tell she boasted a very shapely figure.
“Oh, what kind of modeling do you do?” Ben asked.
“Lingerie,” them woman said, shyly.
It should have clicked for Ben, but it didn’t. Not right away. The brown hair, piercing eyes, fair skin. But given that he was seconds away from drifting into Slumberland, one could hardly blame him for not recognizing her.
“Say, I haven’t seen you in anything, have I?” Ben asked.
The woman squirmed in her seat.
“Maybe,” she said. “I just did a shoot for Emilie’s. They’ve been advertising a lot around here.”
And then it clicked. Ben hardly recognized her with her clothes on, but when he took another look at her pretty face and lovely shoulder length hair, a light bulb flicked on above his head.
“You’re not-” Ben began, “the girl on that billboard, in the red panties?”
The woman nodded.
“None other,” the woman said. “I’m Veronica Cruz.”
“Ben Mitchell,” Ben said, extending his hand. Veronica offered her hand and Ben took it, and squeezed it firmly. After years of labor in the brake shop Ben’s hands had become rugged and strong, and often didn’t realize his strength.
“I was just admiring your ad back at the station,” Ben said. “You’re very beautiful.”
Veronica looked away coyly.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“How long have you been in modeling?” Ben asked.
“About eight years,” Veronica said. “It’s always been my love, ever since I was a little girl. I started going to auditions when I was fourteen. I’ve been hooked ever since.”
“Your parents supportive of your occupation?” Ben asked.
Veronica nodded.
“My Mom, yes, my Dad, not so much.”
“What’s your Dad’s problem with it?” Ben asked.
Veronica took a breath.
“He- didn’t want me doing sexy modeling. When I started auditioning I was just modeling dresses and jeans. And then I got older and I started getting offered swimsuit shoots and he hit the roof.”
“So I take it he wouldn’t be too happy seeing that billboard back at the train station?” Ben asked.
Veronica laughed.
“Not at all. But after he divorced my Mom I stopped caring what he thought. Now I’m glad I started doing lingerie modeling. He has to see that same billboard every time he goes to work back home. And I love it.”
Ben laughed too.
“You’re quite the defiant daughter,” Ben said. “I bet you got in tons of trouble as a girl.”
The lights on the train flickered as the train hit a small bump.
“You could say that,” Veronica laughed. “I got grounded a lot a teenager. Always seemed to me it was worth it though.”
Ben nodded in understanding.
“So what else do you do?” Ben asked. “Besides modeling and being a defiant daughter?”
Veronica giggled.
“Well I love reading and horseback riding,” Veronica said. “Actually reading is my other passion. I read at least two books a week. Thick books, mind you.”
“What are you reading there?” Ben asked. He noticed Veronica had a small black book protruding from the gray handbag slung over her shoulder.
“Oh this?” Veronica asked. “Just a how-to guide for succeeding in the modeling business. Not the type I read for fun.”
“May I see?” Ben asked.
Veronica cringed suddenly.
“It’s-” Veronica stammered. “Nothing you’d be interested in. It’s all boring advice for models.”
“I have a lot of interests,” Ben said with a smile. “Come on, let me have a look.”
“I’d rather not,” Veronica said. She pushed the book further into her purse to conceal it, but found there was not enough room. Veronica turned the book to its side and attempted to zip her purse closed, but in struggling to do so, the train lurched abruptly. The contents of her purse spilled out onto the train floor- including the book.
“I’m sorry, let me help you with that,” Ben said.
“No, it’s okay, I-“
No sooner were the words out of Veronica’s mouth that Ben picked up the small black book and took a peek at the cover.
The cover read “One Hundred Erotic Spanking Stories.”
“This is a peculiar title for a book about modeling tips,” Ben said teasingly.
“Give me that!” Veronica said, snatching the book from Ben’s grasp. She stuffed the book back into her purse along with her other belongings and zipped it closed.
“You enjoy spanking stories?” Ben asked.
Veronica’s face turned beet red.
“Sometimes,” she said.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ben said.
Veronica turned to Ben, surprised.
“It’s just something I started reading. Out of curiosity,” Veronica said.
“I like spanking stories too,” Ben said. “I’ve read quite a volume of them. Most of them on the Internet.”
“Oh,” Veronica said.
“How long have you been interested in spanking?” Ben asked.
“A- a while now,” Veronica said. She was silent for a moment, but to Ben surprise, she continued.
“When I was in high school I was friends with this girl Marybeth. She told me her Dad spanked her. I thought that was so strange, but exciting. And I started wishing I had been spanked.”
“Haven’t you ever been spanked?” Ben asked.
Veronica shook her head.
“Never.”
“That’s too bad,” Ben said. “I think every girl should be spanked.”
Veronica tightened her coat anxiously.
“Have you ever spanked anyone?” Veronica asked.
“Yes,” Ben said. “My ex-girlfriend, and one of my female friends in college.”
“Tell me about it,” Veronica said. “Please.”
Ben thought for a moment. He realized he was suddenly no longer exhausted, and in fact newly energized having met Veronica.
“Well, the first time was with a female friend when I was in college,” Ben said.
“Where did you do it?” Veronica asked.
“In my car, in the parking lot outside the restaurant where we just ate,” Ben said.
“Did anyone see you?” Veronica asked.
“I don’t think so, it was dark out,” Ben said.
Veronica’s eyes went wide. She was entranced by Ben’s words.
“So what did you do?” Veronica asked.
“Well, we sat there talking for a while, and then she bent over my lap teasingly,” Ben said. “And she asked me to slap her bottom hard. So I did.”
“Just once?”
“Just once.”
Veronica squeezed her thighs together, while keeping her eyes on Ben.
“Was she- bare bottomed?” Veronica asked apprehensively.
“No, she had her jeans on,” Ben said.
“Oh,” Veronica said, with a trace of disappointment.
“So what happened? You just spanked her once?” Veronica asked.
Ben nodded.
“I was hoping things would go further but we got interrupted. Some people walked by in the parking lot and she asked me to take her home. We never went out again unfortunately.”
“But you spanked some other girls, right? Your ex-girlfriend?” Veronica asked.
“Yes,” Ben said. “Beth, my first serious girlfriend. I spanked her when we were just dating.”
“How did that go?” Veronica asked.
“Well, we were on the couch watching a movie at her parents house late one night. When the movie was over we started kissing. Things heated up, and I asked her if she wanted to be spanked.”
Veronica smiled.
“She said yes, so I asked her to drop her drawers, and she did,” Ben said.
“So she was bare bottomed? When you spanked her?” Veronica asked, clutching her knees in excitement.
Ben nodded.
“She pulled her jeans and panties down and bent over my knee. The room was dark but I remember the way the moonlight looked on her bottom, it was so beautiful.”
“And then what?” Veronica asked.
“I spanked her. I don’t remember how many times, but a lot. I went for about five minutes or so. She was very calm throughout the entire session. She held very still and didn’t talk much or complain. Actually, she asked me to spank her harder.”
“Did you?” Veronica asked.
“Yes, I really gave it to her after the second time she asked. She didn’t mind it at all. By the time I was done her cheeks were bright red, but she said it was perfect.”
Ben could not believe how entranced Veronica was by the story he was telling. She was practically on the edge of her seat waiting for Ben to spill more details.
“What a lucky girl,” Veronica smiled.
“I thought I was the lucky one,” Ben said.
Ben checked out the train window to see where he was. His station was not for about two more stops.
“So have you ever spanked anyone else? Just those two girls?” Veronica asked.
“Well those were the only two girls I formally spanked,” Ben said.
“What do you mean?” Veronica asked.
“Well, I‘ve maybe slapped a few girls on their bottoms. You know, casually,” Ben said.
“What do you mean, casually?” Veronica asked.
Ben cringed. He usually didn’t tell people about this part of his life.
“I mean, I used to- when I was younger, mind you, go around and slap woman on their behinds. Without their permission.”
Veronica seemed more intrigued than offended.
“Like, where, anywhere you saw them?” Veronica asked.
“Basically, yeah,” Ben said. “Around campus during college. Or on spring break, at the beach all the girls would be walking around in bikinis, so my buddies and I would slap them on their bottoms whenever we passed them by. We got some dirty looks, but never got in serious trouble.”
“Wow, that’s kind of sexy,” Veronica said.
“Really?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. I would love to have that done to me at the beach,” Veronica said.
“Well I’ve matured since then, but there are guys who still do that,” Ben said.
Veronica sighed.
“Oooohhh, I really want to be spanked now!”
“Well, why don’t you? Ben asked. “With a gorgeous heinie like yours, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a guy to spank you.”
“I asked my ex-boyfriend, but he was never into that,” Veronica said. “He treated me like this delicate flower all the time. He said he couldn’t stand to hurt me.”
Ben nodded understandably.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find a guy who will give you what you need,” Ben said.
“Thanks,” Veronica said. The train screeched to a stop.
“Well, this is my stop,” Ben said. “It was nice to meet you Veronica. Good luck with your modeling career.”
Veronica smiled.
“Nice to meet you too, Ben,” Veronica said. She gave Ben a firm embrace. As she released him, Ben turned to walk to the train’s exit. He shot one last glance at Veronica, before exiting the train.
As Ben stepped onto the train’s platform, the first thing he saw was the same billboard featuring Veronica in her red panties with her bottom posed suggestively towards the camera. Ben smiled glumly and walked away.
“Wait! Ben! Wait!”
Ben turned around to see Veronica hopping off the train and hurrying towards him.
“Veronica?” Ben asked. “What is it?”
“I have to ask you something!” Veronica asked.
Ben’s felt his heart stop. What could this beautiful woman possibly want to ask him?
She waited until she was just a foot away before speaking.
“Will you spank me?” Veronica asked softly.
“I’m sorry?” Ben asked.
Veronica looked around her, noticing a few other passengers exiting from other cars. She stepped closer to Ben.
“Spank me,” Veronica whispered. “Please.”
Ben put his hands on Veronica’s hips.
“Why would you want an old man like me to spank you?” Ben asked.
Veronica laughed.
“You’re not that old. What are you thirty-five?”
“Thirty-nine,” Ben said.
“That’s perfect,” Veronica said. “You can give me the discipline my Dad never did. For being a defiant daughter.”
“How am I going to spank you? I’ve got my brother and his wife staying over at my place,” Ben said.
“You can do it at my hotel,” Veronica said. “I’m alone there. We won’t be bothered.”
Ben looked around the train platform, and back at Veronica.
“Tell you what,” Ben said. “I’ll spank you, under one condition.”
“Anything,” Veronica said.
Ben grinned.
“When I spank you, you’ll be dressed like you are in that billboard.”
Veronica blushed.
“I’ve got those same panties back at my room. Come on, the train is leaving.”
*****
Veronica’s room was lavish enough. Apparently lingerie models were treated to the best amenities money could buy. Veronica flicked a switch and a dim light illuminated the mini-bar, plush queen bed, and 42 inch plasma screen television among the other luxuries in the room.
Ben walked to the window, which opened to a balcony overlooking an ocean view. He looked back to Veronica.
“Where’s the butler?” Ben joked.
“You’ll have to call room service for that,” Veronica giggled. “Can I order you anything?”
“No, I only came here for one thing,” Ben said happily.
Veronica opened her blue coat.
“Guess I’ll go get changed.”
Veronica removed her coat and hung it up in the closet. She had an attractive red sweater and black pants underneath, which she retreated into the bathroom to remove. Ben lay down onto the plush queen sized bed and let it absorb his body. He was actually going to spank a beautiful girl. Ben thought about where the spanking should take place. The bed seemed a bit too bouncy, but he noticed the room also came equipped with a sofa near the window. Ben decided that was his best bet. Ben took a seat on the sofa and saw there was plenty of room for him to sit and for Veronica to recline across his lap.
Perfect.
Veronica seemed to be taking her time, but that was understandable. Most likely she was fixing her hair and makeup, trying to look perfect when she finally made her appearance. Looking around the room, Ben noticed a portfolio sitting on the nearby table. Ben figured it might be a few more minutes before Veronica would be ready, so Ben’s curiosity got the better of him and he decided to take a peek. Grabbing it, he opened it to find it full of Veronica’s modeling photos. Headshots, summer dresses, and lots and lots of swimsuits. Ben flipped past page after page of Veronica in skimpy, sexy swimwear. Monokinis, string bikinis, cutoff shorts and halter tops, Veronica had modeled in countless sexy ensembles. Ben flipped through the portfolio slowly, taking several moments to enjoy each of Veronica’s glamorous and provocative photos.
After admiring a photo of Veronica in a stylish one-piece that showed her beautiful long legs nicely, Ben flipped past the swimwear chapter and onto the lingerie section. Here Veronica was adorned in beautiful bra and panty sets. Some looked to be taken on a runway, with Veronica strutting sexily down in nothing more than a bra, thong, and high heels surrounded by spectators and photographers with their cameras flashing.
Finally, Ben came across the Original. The photo of Veronica in the red panties. The portfolio contained some alternate shots from that photo session.  Some showed Veronica in a similar pose, and some had her facing the camera covering her breasts with her arm, as well as a few in which she was wearing a matching bra. All in all, the Original, with her posing without the bra and her posterior facing the camera was in Ben’s opinion, the best of them all.
Ben was about to flip to the next page when the bathroom door opened.  Ben waited.  Veronica tentatively stepped out. She had her complimentary frette bathrobe and slippers on, and she strutted sexily towards Ben.
“Enjoying my photos?” Veronica chirped.
“Not as much as I’m enjoying you,” Ben said.
Veronica gave off a sheepish grin. She loved to be complimented.
“Alright, lose the robe, you know what we agreed,” Ben said.
Veronica untied her belt and opened her robe, letting the soft material fall to the floor. True to her word, she wore nothing but her sexy red panties underneath.
She looked as magnificent in person as in her photos. Long, lovely legs. Firm, curvy thighs. Beautiful smooth belly, and large full breasts. ***
“Well well,” Ben said. “Let’s get started. Why are you here, Miss Cruz?”
Veronica giggled.
“Because I’ve been a very naughty girl,” Veronica said. “I’ve been doing some sexy modeling. So I need to be punished.”
“Yes you do, Miss Cruz,” Ben said. “I think you need a spanking.”
“Yes sir, whatever you say,” Veronica said obediently.
“Good. Now bend over my knee,” Ben said.
Veronica eagerly stepped towards Ben’s side and laid across his lap, perching her buttocks sexily across his knee.
Ben took Veronica’s long, flowing hair and brushed it aside, and admired the smooth skin of her back. His eyes passed down across her spine and settled upon her bottom. Her sexy red panties hugged the curves of her buttocks so snugly. Her cheeks were so round and full, that the skimpy panties did not even cover the lower portion of her behind. The flimsy material stopped a good two inches above the fold where her buttocks met her thighs. Ben found this to be very sexy, but he knew Veronica would not want to be wearing these panties when he spanked her.
“Miss Cruz, I would like you to remove your panties now,” Ben said.
“Yes, sir,” Veronica said, eager to comply. Veronica inserted her thumbs into the sides of her panties. Very slowly, she slid them down her hips, exposing her soft, vulnerable cheeks. She slipped them down further and let the panties settle around her thighs.
Veronica’s bottom was truly a thing of beauty. Ben sat in awe at the lovely contours of her delicate mounds, that to him just seemed to be screaming “spank me!”
Ben decided to do just that. He raised his open palm in the air and brought it down in one thunderous smack.
Veronica yelped. Her cheeks jiggled upon the recoil of his smack. Veronica truly had a bottom made for spanking. Ben raised his palm, and smacked them again.
SMACK!
Veronica squealed. The sensation was as wonderful as she imagined. With this total loss of control, Veronica felt more empowered than she had in her entire life.
Ben slapped her bottom again and again. Veronica shut her eyes and let her bottom absorb the wonderful heat gathering upon her posterior. This was exactly what she needed. Veronica felt as though her bottom had never been more at home than it was under Ben’s hand.
Ben felt the same way about Veronica. He loved the way her firm cheeks felt against his palm. Her bottom felt so inviting to him, as though his hand never belonged anywhere else.
Ben spanked Veronica’s bottom faster and harder. She didn’t seem to be uncomfortable; instead she remained calm and submissive to his treatment of her. He alternated spanking her left and right cheeks, higher and lower, spreading plenty attention over the entirety of her bottom.
Veronica’s breathing picked up. Her excitement was building.
“Does it hurt?” Ben asked.
“Yes,” Veronica said. Ben slowed his spanking.
“But in a good way. Please, continue,” Veronica said.
Ben spanked her faster again, admiring her fortitude. He could see some color forming on her cheeks, slowly shifting from pale white to rosy and red.
In spite of the discomfort, Veronica felt as though she were in heaven. Being spanked was a magnificent experience, better than a full body massage or even sex.
Veronica kicked her legs up and down, enjoying every swat Ben graced on her naked bottom. Several minutes passed, and Ben continued the spanking without interruption. The stinging feeling forming on her bottom became more and more intense, but Veronica remained calm and passive, and simply allowed the intensity to increase.
She let out a soothing sigh. All the stresses of her life were momentarily suspended. She was getting her bare bottomed spanked, and that was all that mattered.
Veronica’s resolve reminded Ben of his ex-girlfriend. Her calm complacency was truly admirable. Ben believed she might very well remain silent and submissive to her spankings for as long as Ben deemed she must. He and only he would decide when her spankings would stop. Veronica’s only duty was to endure them.
Ben felt a cramp gradually forming in his hand, and decided perhaps enough was enough. He slowed his spanking, finally culminating into one final swat to the center of her butt.
“There,” Ben said, rubbing her well-spanked cheeks. “All done, naughty girl.”
Veronica laughed.
“Thank you sir, thank you so much.”
Veronica pulled herself to her feet, and rubbed her sore bottom.
“Ooh, I want to see how red it is,” Veronica said, cringing as she rubbed her crimson cheeks. She stopped to kick off the red panties, which had now gathered around her ankles. Ben admired her reddened behind as she scampered off to the bathroom, stark naked. She almost looked as though she was still wearing the panties with how rosy her rear had become.
Ben massaged his palm. In truth, he felt Veronica deserved many more spankings, but he felt his hand needed a break more than anything else. After giving his hand a few moments of rest, Ben regretted ending Veronica’s spanking so soon.
Veronica emerged from the bathroom, still wearing nothing but a bright smile across her face.
“I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did,” Veronica said.
“I can guarantee you that,” Ben said.
“May I get dressed now?” Veronica asked.
“Not just yet,” Ben said, holding up his index finger. Veronica froze.
“Have you learned your lesson, young lady?” Ben asked.
“Yes sir, I have,” Veronica said. “Having my bare bottom spanked was exactly the lesson I needed.”
Ben looked at Veronica skeptically.
“Did you get enough spankings though?” Ben asked. “Don’t you think you deserve a few more?”
Veronica paused. She felt her heart skip a beat.
“Maybe,” Veronica said.
Ben simply looked at her. Veronica grabbed her forearms nervously. She knew the correct answer.
“I do, sir,” Veronica said. Ben smiled. He extended his knee invitingly to Veronica. Veronica stepped towards him and bent over his lap once again.
“May I have a few more spankings please?” Veronica asked.
“Yes, you may,” Ben said. He looked at Veronica’s cheeks once again, admiring the work he’d already done. Veronica was spunky, and Ben decided she could handle plenty more of what Ben could offer her.
So Ben spanked her. He spanked her fast and he spanked her hard, loud enough to make the smack echo against the walls and hard enough to make both of her cheeks jiggle about. Without a work of protest from Veronica, Ben raised his palm in the air, and bestowed her naked bottom with twelve more minutes of glorious spankings.
*****
“Will I see you again?” Ben asked. They stood at the entrance of the train, the doors open and waiting.
“Yes,” Veronica quipped. “On billboards all over town.”
Ben forced a laugh.
“I’ll be looking for you whenever I’m in this station,” Ben said.
“I’ll do the same. When I’m in town again,” Veronica said.
“It was nice to meet you,” Ben said.
Veronica nodded.
Ben turned to take one last look at Veronica, hoping it would not be the last time he would ever see her. He walked up the train’s steps and took a seat near the window so he could see her. She stood on the platform, watching him. The train let out a puff of steam, and slowly lurched into motion. Ben watched as Veronica got farther and father away as the train trembled across the tracks and sped off into the night.
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‘In-Flight Spanking’ : F/F spanking fantasy story



Readers,


This great F/F spanking story was emailed to me by a new correspondent this week, and I’ve gotten her permission to share it here. She’s written a fine little spanking fantasy, and I thought you’d like it, too.  Enjoy!


–  Dana

*****


In-Flight Spanking

It was June, Summer of 1992. My family and I were headed to the airport to catch our flight to Miami where we were headed on a week’s cruise. Summer vacations were always somewhere tropical while winter vacations were usually spent skiing in Tahoe or Jackson Hole. 

Our flight was early so not being much of a morning person, I was dragging and not in the best of moods. My brother, Matthew, managed to get on my nerves straight away. Already we had started with our early morning insults and annoying each other in the car. Per her usual, my mother lightly scolded us. Too bad she didn’t have a wooden spoon to pull out and threaten us with. We might have actually given a Sh*t. 

Our wait in the terminal wasn’t too long and soon they were boarding First Class. Mother and Daddy got situated in the row beside us and I quickly threw my backpack on the window seat to make my claim. I climbed past my brother and got settled into my big roomy leather seat. I hadn’t payed much attention to the flight crew but an unfamiliar accent did capture my attention. She was quite tall, blonde, very busty and middle-aged. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose bun. A very stunning woman and obviously european. She took our drink order while we waited for the rest of the plane to board. 

Before too long, our attendant came to do her walk thru and gather our glasses at which time she noted and asked that I buckle my seatbelt. I didn’t do it right away but I was going to after I finished glancing at my magazine and got my backpack tucked back under the seat in front of me. Again she passed us by and asked that I buckle my seatbelt to which I rolled my eyes and said “I am!” “Click!” She paused for a moment, raised her eyebrow and gave me a short but glaring stare with her deep blue eyes. 

An hour into our flight, my brother and I started our usual teasing and bickering which sometimes could be playful but usually ended up getting ugly. Occasionally, my mother would glance over and send the “knock it off look” while daddy buried himself in the Times. At one point, one of us kicked the seat of the gentleman in front of us which earned us an ugly stare but when it happened again, he called our attendant to handle the situation. I’m sure most of First Class wondered why my parents didn’t just separate us. Clearly we weren’t mature enough to handle sitting together. Nonetheless, the lady attendant seemed quite fine to deal with the situation. She leaned over and asked me if I could join her in the galley. I sat there like a deer in the headlights. Why did she want me to go up there? I looked over at my parents for some direction but they had both dozed off. With her eyebrow raised, she said “young lady, I’d like to have a word with you up front please.” Although I hesitated, I got up and scooted around my brother who was overly excited to see me get in trouble. He had his head stretched all the way in the aisle as he watched me walk up to the galley but the show would quickly be over for him and anyone else watching as she quickly closed the blue curtain separating the galley from the cabin. 

“What is your name young lady?” Hardly able to look up at her, I mumbled “Katelyn.” “Katelyn. That’s a lovely name and you are a lovely girl but I’ve been watching you carry on with your brother and continuously disrupt the passengers around you. You are not at home. You are in a plane! First Class no less! If I were your mother, I would have hauled you up here and taken you across my knee for a good spanking!” I couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. “Is this funny to you?” Shrugging my shoulders was not the desired answer here but before I could respond “no ma’am,” she grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her as she threw down her jumpseat and took me over her lap. I wanted to cry out but I was so embarrassed by the thought of anyone hearing what was happening. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Her hand came reigning down with great force. This wasn’t going to be a lengthy drama so she got right to the point. “Is this still funny young lady?” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “No! Please, I’m sorry!” I said, trying to whisper and breathe at the same time. But for all of my trying to be discreet, she took advantage of the fact that I was wearing shorts and gave me the last 3 slaps on my bare thighs. I couldn’t hold back my yelp. The sting was intense but I was more concerned with the fact that everyone would know what just happened behind that curtain. She lifted me off her lap and I was completely disheveled. I immediately went to soothe the back of my thighs. “Katelyn, you may take your seat now and put that SEATBELT on!” 

“Katelyn, KATELYN!” my brother was shaking my arm to wake me. “We’re getting ready to land,” he said. 
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Travel Update: September 5-8

I will be re-visiting Denver and St. Louis, and making my first trip to Cleveland, Wednesday through Saturday, September 5-8th. 
Disciplinary consideration in these cities is very limited.


danakanespanks@gmail.com

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‘An Officer’s Story’ : Excellent new M/F spanking story

‘An Officer’s Story’ is yet another example of the wonderful imaginations of our fellow spanking enthusiasts. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I have! (Brief Encounter story writing contest entry.)


–  Dana

*****


An officers story. 




As a Commander in the Navy I have the usual pleasure to meet and greet the new officers in my command. Today I am standing on the train platform waiting for the 4:40 to arrive from San Francisco. I wander from end to end, wondering just what this new nurse is going to be like. She seems pretty competent, from her last fitness report, and the only disconcerting comment was she was some what unconventional in a military sense. I am not quite sure what that meant, but I have run into all sorts in my military career and certainly know how to handle a defiant nurse. 


The train finally pulls in and I wait for my new arrival to debark. No nurse. Soon the train picks up some new passengers and departs. “Well, where the blazes is she?” I look around and the entire platform is empty except of one person, a woman, wearing a miniskirt, smoking a cigarette, looking a bit lost. This couldn’t be my new nurse….just couldn’t be. But our eyes meet and she saunters over as I start waking toward her. “Lieutenant Taylor?” I asks. “Yeah, that’s me.” She replies. “Lieutenant, we do observed military courtesy around here, and it’s ‘yes sir,’ not ‘yeah,’ do I make myself clear?”
“Oh, yes surh,” she replied scarcasically. “Lieutenant, if we’re going to get along, it’s going to start right now, is that understood?”   
“You sound like my father, but I’ll try, sir, she replied with a bit more sincerity in her voice. 
“I don’t know how they ran things up North, but you will observe military courtesy here….again, am I understood? And, where is your uniform?” 
“Well I didn’t think it was necessary while traveling, sir. ”  “It’s necessary now, and put out that cigarette. Now, I get your bags and we’ll get to the base and discuss this again.” She causally flipped the cigarette butt onto the platform and snuffed in with her shoe. I just shook my head and stared at her. “What?” she said. “You’re lucky that you’re an officer, or you’d be eating that butt,” I warned. “Whatever” she replied as we made to baggage claim, just off the platform. 

As I picked up her bags and made it to the car, she trailed behind and finally got to the car and sat down. “When we get to the base and the BOQ, (Basic Officers Quarters) you will be in uniform immediately is that clear?”  “Yes sir” was the meek reply. 

It was a half-hour ride to the base and she never said a word during that time, and neither did I. We rolled up to and through the main gate and around the base to the BAQ.  I stopped the car and walked her up to the front door and opened it. 
“You’re the only one her now, but another two nurses with be joining you by the end of the week, Now. I’m going to be back in 30 minuted and I want to see you in uniform and ready for duty…again, do I make myself clear? 
She looked at me with a bit of defiance, and uttered out another meek, “Yes sir.”

I did return in 30 minutes and there was my new nurse, still not in uniform, sitting on the front stoop again smoking a cigarette. 

“Lieutenant, just what the hell do you think you’re doing”? “I gave you a direct order and I expect it to be followed to the letter, Now you put that cigarette out, walk right back in there and get into uniform…” With that she flicked the cigarettes butt out to the grass and looked at me with a “what are you going to do about it” look and turned to the door. “Lieutenant,” I said as I followed her through the door, “You’re going have a little lesson in how I run things around here, Now get changed NOW” “Then, I want you standing at attention right here.” I said, pointing at a spot on the deck.” She just nodded with a nonchalance glance and shuffled off to the bedroom to change. “Daddy’s little darlin” I thought as I waited and waited, pacing the floor. Finally she emerged in uniform….white stockings, crisp starched nurses dress and her hat. “Right here, at attention” I pointed to a spot on the deck. “That’s better,” I said, as she dutifully complied.  

 “That’s better. Now do you want to explain your actions? You’re a nurse and an officer for christsakes. You’re suppose to be setting an example, and you act like a fricking hipster or something. That is completely unacceptable here. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?
 

“Well? No answer? If this were the British Navy I’d have you flogged for insubordination and failing do obey a direct order” “What? I didn’t hear you.”  “You didn’t think it was important? “That’s it? You didn’t think it was important?”

 “That’s no excuse around here and we’re going to make sure you learn this right here and now!. Maybe I can’t have you flogged, but I certainly can do the next best thing.” “Get over here, and that’s an order.

Sitting on the corner of the sofa, I grabbed her  arm and drag her across my knee.

 “Please sir, you can’t do this…” “Oh, yes I can; and besides that, who are you going to tell, your superior officer?…Oh, wait, that’s me”!

 I smoothed the startchy material of her pure white dress uniform and start giving her good hard spanks on the back of her dress. In moments her white-stocking clad legs start kicking like a little girl.

 “Stop that” I command. “Yes, sir, but your hurting me.” I’ll do more than that if you don’t keep your legs still.” As I continue the spanking with hard,
 slapping slaps. Then it stops.

 “I am not sure I’m getting though to you Lieutentant, this certainly doesn’t seem to be making the kind of impression I wish to make on you.

I start to lift the back of her dress and she tried to protest and reach back to keep it down. I slapped her hands away.  “Now stop that, and that’s an order. You’ll take every bit of this spanking and more if I desire. Do I make myself clear, Lieutentant? Good. 

 I lifted the back uniform dress and lacy hemmed slip and find she is wearing some bright red lace panties and a garter belt for the white stockings.

 “Are these standard issue, Lieutenant?”  I say snapping the waist band several times. “No, sir.” “NO, Sir? Is that all you can say”? “I should make you change right now, but that can wait for a bit. I’m sure your ass won’t know the difference in a few minutes anyway.”

 I start spanking her well-rounded and very shapely bottom again. Up, down, upper thighs, hard stinging swats. “Quit moving.” I stop only long enough to yank these panties down and then keep on spanking until her  bottom is red, red and red hot. Then I stop. “OK, lieutenant, get up and I want you to stand right here,” I say pointing to the same place on the deck. “Right here, and keep that dress up so I can see that red bottom of yours; It does match those red panties quite a bit. Now, I am going out for a few minutes. When I get back you’d better have your standard issue panties and stockings on and standing exactly right here; And, you will bring those red panties with you, and then then we’ll finish your punishment.”

“But, sir, you can’t…” “I told you what you can do with that. Now keep your mouth shut, unless you want to go on report also. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, LIEUTENANT? GOOD.”

 After I leave, she sheepishly moved to the bedroom to remove the lacy red panties and put on the standard white ones, also removing the garter belt and pulling on the white pantyhose stocking wondering just what happened and what is going to happen. Her bottom is red, throbbing and so hot and tears were swelling up in her eyes. “What a bastard” she thought, I really never thought he’s actually spank me and so hard…boy, damn, my bottom hurts!”

 She removes the red lacy panties and replaces them with the standard issue white nylon ones and changes into the white pantyhose, She lets her  dress down smoothing it out as she leaves the room and reenters the front room and moves toward the attention spot on the floor holding the red panties in bunched up in her right hand before he comes through the door.

 “I can’t believe this is happening. I know I probably deserved this, but I cannot believe it! Turned over  his knee and spanked like a little bratty girl. Here I am a Lieutenant in the Navy…an officer and to have a superior treat me like this is, is, well, maybe not so bad. Beside that, I guess I did deserved it.”

This, and a myriad of other thoughts rush through her slightly dizzy head. Then she is brought back to reality when she hears the main door opening as she  rushes to re-assume her position at attention looking at the front door.

Before the door is completely open, you hear the order to about face. You dutifully turn so you back is to the door. You hear the door close behind you.

 “OK, Lieutenant, lets do a uniform check. lift the back of your dress. Yes, that’s much better, I never want to see you out of uniform again, is that clear?  “Civvies are for civilians, not officers. Now let down your dress and turn around. 
 She slowly turned around and are horrified to see him holding a long slender switch.

 “I had one hell of a time trying to find this switch, around here, but I think it will do the job.”

 “Sir, you can’t be serious. You can’t whip me with that.”

“Lieutenant, I think we’re already past what I can and can’t do. Now, put those red panties you have in your right hand, down on this end of the sofa and then I want you to bend over this end. I want you to be looking at those panties and remember  they are at least half the cause of this punishment, your attitude the other.”


You hesitate, but slowly turn.

 “Not fast enough,” you’re told, and then hear a very audible swish, and then feel a deep burning sensation on your calf’s. “Ouch, my God that hurts.”

 “Well then get moving. There is a much better place to use this supple switch on,” as another stroke finds its spot just above the last one.

“Ow. I hurrying”!  she assert as she tosses the red panties on the sofa and slowly moves to the other end. She glances over to him, avoiding eye contact, but fixated with the slender switch he is flexing in his hands and tapping on his pant leg. She stares at the end of the sofa and places her hands on the couch and then stops short of actually bending over. 

 “Good, now bend over the end and put your hands in from of you and get a good look at those red panties. Do it now! I am not going to tell you again.” 
Now you obediently comply this time. Your bottom is jutted up in just the right position, and you feel your dress being pulled up. No use in trying to talk your way out of this. You try to prostest when he takes down your pantyhose to mid-thigh only to be reminded that back talk will get you an extra stroke.



Your muscles tense up when you hear the swish of the switch cutting though the air and then being gently tapped on your panties, now taut on your well-positioned bottom.


“Now hold still and this will be over soon.” “Yes, sir, “you mumble, your hands grabbing on to the cushions still looking at those panties that seemed to have cause all this mess.


The first stroke lands squarely across your bottom, you yelp and reach back to protect yourself only to find the switch lightly hitting your hand back to
above your head.  The next stroke falls, you shriek. Then another and another. The switching goes on. Stroke after cutting stroke. Deep, penetrating, burning, strokes searing your poor bottom.

Suddenly it stops, but then you feel your and panties being yanked down again, but tpo spent to do a damn thing about it.

“We’re almost done, Lieutenant. I think I finally getting through to you and next time you’ll remember to act like an lady and an officer. Now hold still
 for the remainder of your punishment.”

Again the switch starts cutting stripes on your bottom. Another 15 or 20 searing strokes, but you’ve lost count.

Finally, a few breath-taking criss-cross strokes across the already redded weals of your very sore bottom.   The whipping stops.
 You lay there, with tears welled up in your eyes, and still clenching the red panties in both hands.

“OK, Lieutenant, rub your bottom if you wish. I think I’ve got my message across” he said as he tosses the well-worn and frayed switch in front of her on the sofa.

“Yes, sir, you certainly have,” she says still gasping for breath. You reach back and lightly caress your very tender bottom with the red panties.

“Now, pull yourself together and meet me at the bar in the Officers Club in 30 minutes and I’ll buy you a drink and we can talk about military justice.”  With that and not a word more her commanding officer calmly walks out the door.

You stand up and make your way to the full length mirror.

Your bottom is stripped like a barber pole. You eyes are still tearing and your hair is a mess.

You make your way to the bathroom and wash your face and place a cold damp hand cloth on your bottom. Ah,
at least some relief! You very carefully pull up your stockings and panties trying not to let them touch your skin, and
let your slip and dress down. You fix your make-up, brush your hair and make yourself presentable. You make your way to the front room and  sit, albeit very gingerly, on the corner of the sofa thinking about what just happened. Laying on the sofa is that wicked slender little switch that just layed into your bottom along with your red panties..  

 “Nasty little thing.” you think. You pick it up, swish it in the air a few times just to hear it, and a shiver goes up your spine….you place it on the end table and then retrieve your non-standard red lacy panties and look long and hard at them. In a minute,  you pull up your dress and  gingerly remove your standard issued panties and pull the red ones on again. Owie, ooh, holy cow, he whipped me good,” you think to yourself as that material goes over the her well welted bottom.  “Hell, he’ll  never know, you convince yourself and again don the garter belt and white stockings. “There!” You glare defiantly at yourself in the mirror and you let your dress down and smooth it out. “At least that feels better!”
“Now, for that drink. I hope I can stand at the bar.”
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Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com site update: 7/22

2 a.m. : Spanked for Snoring
Snoring1
It’s two in the morning, and his snoring has kept me awake all night. When I can’t take anymore, I roll him over and pounce on him, straddling his back and pinning him to the bed, spanking him relentlessly with my hands.
Then he gets himself into even more trouble, suggesting that I am too heavy – so I bounce my weight up and down on his back and spank him even harder.
When I’ve finally tired myself out, a long close-up bottom rub is his reward. Then I roll him over and spoon him, telling him to sleep quietly, if he knows what’s good for him.
(Click the title link above for more preview photos.)
POV: Singled-out Student
SingledOut2
Everyone else did great on Friday’s test…but not you. You failed. Again. You’ll receive a stern lecture in front of the rest of the class  – I tell  you that you’ll be spanked, hands on either side of the chalkboard – with a huge wooden paddle, for everyone to see. 
 
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‘Cold War Casualty’ : New original spanking fiction



‘Cold War Casualty’ is a brilliantly-written, original entry to the Brief Encounter spanking story contest.
(The asterisks are my edits – for somewhat sexual content.)


– Dana

*****


Cold War Casualty

Prague, Czechoslovakia – February 12, 1988
The 477 Metropol from Berlin pulled into Prague’s Nadrazi Holesovice station at 1:19am, thirteen minutes early due to skipping the stop in Dresden for some unannounced reason.  I never liked the Nadrazi station; it just seemed too industrial, too cold and isolated, and lacked the grandeur, history and buzz of Hlavni, the main station downtown.  Even though it opened three years ago, there still seemed to be constant construction going on, and even at rush hour it seemed desolate.  Of course, at one in the morning it was positively deserted, especially since I was (by choice) the last one off the train.   Waving off the porter in his blue overalls, I carried my own suitcase and brief case and made my way down the track.  Just to the left of the station entrance I spotted the news kiosk, and as I approached I smiled to myself as I recognized a familiar face behind the counter. 
In my line of work it is critical to have an almost photographic memory, especially for faces, but hers was particularly easy to remember, with her Dutch features, blunt-cut chin-length blonde hair, and almost aqua eyes.  The first time I’d seen her she was no older than 20, operating as a barmaid in a gin joint in Mombasa, back in ’66 when Van Owen and Roland and I were Thompson Gunners on our way to Kasai to help the Congolese resist the Soviet invasion…  She was rumored to have been Mossad, and having once heard her whisper in rapid, clipped Hebrew to an Ethiopian operative in Addis Ababa, I tended to believe the rumor.  Working with a familiar asset was always a double-edged sword; while I could be confident of her loyalties, her history and visibility made her more likely to become compromised or rolled up.  But in this operation it shouldn’t really matter; she was just there for the brush pass, then I was on my own.  I picked up a copy of Lidove Noviny, Prague’s only daily newspaper, though it was really just another Soviet propaganda tool, identical in everything but the title to the Moscow Pravda.  I handed her a 10 Koruna note, and she handed me my change, barely making eye contact.  I pretended to count the change, but in reality I was just making sure the coins included a 1986 US Nickel, which it did.
I headed to the exit, and breathed in the bitter cold air, which would have been refreshing if it weren’t for the acrid smell of the industrial pollution.  I was surprised not to see the car and driver waiting for me, but remembered the train was early and headed over to the bank of pay phones.  As usual, three of the four had ‘out of order’ signs on them, and as I picked up the handset at the one working phone, I felt that telltale sticky pull of a wad of gum stuck to my shoe.  I bent down to scrape the gum off, and suddenly heard the distinctive sound of a blackjack whipping through the air.
I awoke on a sofa, hands and feet bound.  I could tell that, not surprisingly, both of my guns were no longer on me.  I left my eyes closed for a few minutes to regain my senses; meanwhile I took in the sounds and smells. The noises of the train station were quite evident; the track announcements, the whistles, the engines, so we were still somewhere in the station.  I heard two female voices; from the echo I could tell it was a large room, probably with steel walls.  I could smell motor oil and the distinctive odor of freshly shaven metal, as well as the musty smell of the sofa I was on, leading me to guess that I was in a warehouse or machine shop.  I slowly opened my eyes; if the clock on the wall was correct, I’d been out for a little over an hour.   Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a bottle of Russian vodka in an ice bucket on a makeshift wooden table, confirming my fear that the women were not merely Stasi, but more elite KGB agents…  Sitting on a metal chair, pointing a Marakov pistol at me, was a slim agent in her early thirties, with short, dark hair and piercing eyes; she smiled at me and called to the other agent “Natasha – He’s awake.”  As the other agent came out of the shadows, I saw her Eurasian features and my heart sank; there was a good chance she was a Russian Gurkha – descended from the Tartar horsemen who invaded the steppes of Russia with Genghis Khan, and famous for their ruthlessness and well as their expertise as ‘swallows’ (female operatives who are trained to use sex as a weapon).   
            Sure enough, as she approached the sofa I could see that she was wearing only a bra and red panties with a pattern of tiny hammer and sickle emblems.  She stood in front of me and dramatically let down her hair; almost waist-length and so shiny and dark black that it almost seemed to have an element of dark blue when the light glanced off it.  She untied my wrists and ankles, letting her hair cascade over my face, then sat down next to me.  She put her hand on my thigh, and handed me a shot of vodka, telling me “you’ll need this.”  I drank the shot, and they both began caressing me and purring “we can do this the easy way or the hard way; your choice…”   Natasha took off her bra and climbed on top of me, *****


  She began to moan and pushed harder, until the short-haired agent intervened with several loud slaps to her bottom, admonishing her to wait until later…  Natasha cursed in Russian and slowly got off of me, straightened her panties, and sat back down next to me.   Again they repeated “we can do this the easy way or the hard way; your choice…”  but I played dumb and acted as if I had no idea who they were, claiming to just be a businessman in Prague to visit my Grandmother, but their caresses turned to pain as one pinched my nipple while the other squeezed my crotch a bit too hard as they told me to drop the act; they knew exactly who I really was; one got up and dumped onto the table the collection of passports and IDs in varying names and nationalities that had been in a secret compartment in my briefcase.   I reverted to Plan B, explaining that I was actually a forgery expert, in Prague to sell fake passports to citizens trying to escape, and that I would gladly cut them in on the take.  They rolled their eyes, and told me “Drop the act; we have your 201 file.”  I hoped they were bluffing, as the 201 file is the top-secret internal document at the CIA that contains all the personal information on an agent, including training and operational details, strengths, weaknesses and psychological evaluations.  My hopes were dashed when they handed me the file; while it was a poor quality repro, it was legible and definitely a copy of my real file… 
She sat down and they resumed the caresses, and again whispered in my ear “we can do this the easy way or the hard way; your choice… either way, we’re not leaving without the microchip.”  I admitted I was an agent, but insisted that I no longer had the chip – it had been passed off to another operative on the train…  They sighed and told me “guess it’s the hard way; time for the strip search…”  After a very thorough strip search, they both fondled me as they cooed “one last chance; wouldn’t you prefer the easy way?”   I summoned all my courage to reply confidently “I don’t have the microchip any more.”  The short-haired agent, whose named I’d learned was Dana, opened a large bag and began taking out all sorts of implements, teasing me by rubbing each one over my body before laying them down on the makeshift wooden table.  Natasha gave me another shot of vodka, and then they sat down on two metal chairs facing each other, knees interlocked, and pulled me across their knees.   They spanked me for about 15 minutes with their bare hands, often four hands crashing down at once on my bare bottom.  Finally they had me stand up, and Natasha handed me hairbrush and had me brush her long silky hair as she explained that they had never failed to break an agent one way or another, so wouldn’t I prefer to just stop now, hand over the microchip, and get my reward?  I brushed her hair obediently, trying desperately but not successfully to suppress my erection, and insisted that I no longer had the chip.  They pulled me back over their laps, and spent close to an hour spanking me with various wooden, rubber and leather paddles, constantly interrogating me, but I stuck with my insistence that I no longer had the microchip. 



They spoke to each other in a clipped Russian dialect that I could not understand, despite being fluent, and then Dana put on thick rubber gloves and began to rub a cream of some sort on my already beet-red bottom.   “I’m sure you’re familiar with capsaicin cream,” Dana whispered, “but you probably aren’t aware that unlike the 0.1% cream sold in the US, our chemists have devised an extraction method using the Naga Jolokia pepper, or what you call the ghost pepper, the world’s hottest pepper.  This enables us to make concentrations of up to 80%, or 800 times more potent than those American creams – that’s why I need to use these gloves.”  Sure enough, unlike the American creams I was trained with, which took at least 15 or 20 minutes to start working, I could immediately feel the most intense burning sensation.  Still, I had been trained to endure great pain, and I maintained my steadfast insistence that I no longer had the microchip.  They spoke to each other again in that clipped Russian dialect, and all I could make out was the word ‘bench’.   They led me over to a specially designed punishment bench, and securely strapped my legs to the lower part and strapped my arms to armrests.  They laid out an assortment of implements, and they each selected heavy leather prison straps, and began to simultaneously use them on me.  I tried to keep count internally, just to distract myself from the pain, but with them both strapping me at the same time, and going at such a fast and furious pace, I lost count around 200.  The strapping continued for what must have been six or eight hundred strokes, before they stopped momentarily to have another shot of vodka.  They then each picked up large Martinets and gently and sensually let the leather strands caress my backside before resuming a fast-paced whipping that again must have lasted for at least 600 strokes.   They spoke to each other in that undecipherable dialect, and while I couldn’t understand, I could tell that they were clearly getting frustrated that I had not yet broken.  They each picked up long narrow wooden paddles, about as long as a yardstick but much thicker, with 3 holes at the end, and began a severe paddling.  After what seemed like an hour, but was probably about 15 minutes, they switched to canes.  At this point, I was on the brink of giving in, but realized that both of them had broken into a sweat, and they seemed to be losing stamina, as the cane strokes seemed to be getting a bit lighter, so I managed to maintain my resolve and make it through…
Clearly frustrated by their inability to break me, they went to the corner of the room and spoke in hushed tones to each other and drank another shot of vodka, then brought a shot back to me.  They removed the restraints that were holding me down, led me to bare mattress in the corner of the room, and then they laid me face-up on the ancient mattress.  Dana attached my wrists to restraints connected to a long broomstick-size dowel, and then did the same to my ankles, leaving me spread-eagled on the mattress.  Natasha began caressing my chest, abdomen and legs, her long silky hair cascading over me, ***.  ***
  They used the spreader bars to turn me over, and gave me at least another 100 strokes with the cane, then rolled me back over and started over again with the stimulation… whispering “as soon as you tell us where the microchip is, ***”  Finally after about half a dozen cycles, I just couldn’t take it anymore; I’d been trained to endure all sorts of pain, but my training had not included any ways of coping with such excruciating denial of pleasure… I whispered “coin… it’s hidden in a coin…please let me finish”  “Where’s the coin?” they purred… “pants pocket”; Natasha gestured to Dana to go get it while she released me from the spreader bars and kissed my chest and caressed me and whispered “good boy…”  Dana returned with my pants and scooped out a pocketful of change in various currencies and asked which coin.  “An American Nickel” I said, and she found three and handed them to me.  I looked at the dates, and selected the correct coin, then removed my wedding band, and inserted the coin, tail side down, into a hidden bezel on the inner surface.  Three hard raps on the concrete and the back popped off, revealing the hollow center, sized perfectly to fit a microchip.  They let out a shriek of delight, and hugged each other, and then me, and then Natasha ***, while Dana stroked my hair and my chest and complimented me on my ability to handle an extraordinary amount of pain.  ***, explaining that now that I had given them the microchip, I had no alternative but to join the KGB, as I was a dead man if I returned to the US… And that they both really looked forward to helping to train me to handle denial of pleasure as well as I handled pain…
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‘A Priceless Spanking’ : Great M/F spanking story



Readers,


This entry to the Brief Encounter story contest is funny and well-written. I think you’ll enjoy ‘A Priceless Spanking.’ (The asterisks are my edits, for slightly naughty langugage – although it should be said that it’s still obvious.)


– Dana


                                                A Priceless Spanking


Sara had not been the best girlfriend in the world. She ran up $1575.50 on Andrew’s credit card. Designer snake print jeans $489, Lace-Inset Blouse $897.00, designer heels $178, red panties 11.50. The spanking she was going to receive, priceless.  
Sara was lying naked on her stomach with her laptop in front of her. Her long dark hair was cascading down her back all the way to her lovely bottom that protruded proudly in the air. Her large breasts rested comfortably on her bed. Sara opened her e-mail account.  Apparently, she had inherited a large sum of money from a long lost Nigerian relative and only had to send $500 to cover the processing fees. Sara laughed. “How could anyone be stupid enough to fall for this?” she thought. “O here’s one from Andrew.” Sara read Andrew’s e-mail:

“Meet me at 135 Baker St.  Coventry, CT at 3pm” was all it said.  

“Hmm that’s odd” Sara thought. “He must have a surprise planed for me, how fun.”  Sara looked at the location on Google Earth. “Looks like a train station, not very romantic. Well I better get dressed.” Sara got up and put on her new red panties. “I better not wear the rest of my new clothes, Andrew might ask questions.” Sara put on her socks, some old jeans, a tee shirt and some running shoes. There was no reason to get dressed up for a train station. 
When Sara arrived at the train station she was surprised that it was empty. Just then Sara saw Andrew walking towered her. 
Andrew:  “The station is shut down for repairs. We have it all to ourselves.” 
Sara: “I don’t have sex in train stations if that’s what you had in mind.”
Andrew: “Don’t worry, so apparently you ran up an enormous bill on my credit card.”
Sara: “(smiling) So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Perhaps I’ll do Andrew in the train station after all. After a good lay he will probably forget all about the credit card,” Sara thought to herself.
Andrew: “Well for starters I’m going to give you a good spanking.”
Sara: “(laughs) What a joke. You don’t have the *** to spank me.”
Andrew: “We’ll just see about that. Take off all your clothes save you shoes and socks. You’re going to need them.”
Sara “OK, I’m feeling pretty *** myself.”
Sara casually took off her shirt then her jeans and panties.
Andrew: “Well I’m not. (sitting down on a bench) Get over my knee.”
Sara positioned herself on Andrew’s lap.
smack
Sara: “I thought I felt something. Did a fly land on my ass?”
Smack!
Sara: “O now you want to play paddy cake with my ass. How cute, paddy cake, paddy cake bakers m”
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
Sara: “Owwy, owwy, owwy”
Andrew: “I thought I didn’t have the *** to spank you.”
Sara: “Ok! Ok! You have the ***! You have the ***!”
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
Sara: “Your *** are gigantic! You have the biggest *** in the world! Please stop spanking me!”
Andrew: “No need to get carried away. My *** are average size.”
Sara: “Have you been comparing them with the guys at the gym?”
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
Sara: “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”
Andrew: “Now stand up and get your little red caboose on the tracks.”
Sara: “O aren’t you just sooo clever (sarcastically)”
Andrew: “You just can’t help being a smart ass, can you?”
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
Sara: “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”
Sara got up and stood on the train tracks facing away from Andrew.
Andrew: “You’re always saying that you want to exercise more. Why don’t you pretend you’re a train and run to the platform and back?”  SMACK!!!!
Sara jogged slowly down the track. As Andrew watched Sara’s red bottom change shape as she jogged, Andrew realized that he had lied about not being ***. Sara’s red bottom looked smaller and smaller to Andrew as she jogged towered the platform. When she reached the platform she turned around and began jogging toward Andrew. Her breasts bounced rhythmically. Sara’s breasts seemed so carefree to Andrew, free to bounce as they pleased without the confinement of modern technology. Sara now stood in front of Andrew. She was breathing a little harder then normally. 
Andrew: “Turn around; you’ve been a very bad train. You were way to slow. The passengers were all late and I’ve had to listen to them complain all day.”
SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!! SMACK!!!!
Andrew was pleased that Sara was no longer talking back to him.
Andrew: “Now let’s try this again.” SMACK!!!!
Sara ran at a full sprint down the track. She reached the platform in no time. She turned around and began running toward Andrew. Her breasts were now bouncing at a feverish pace. Sara stood in front of Andrew.
Sara: “(breathing heavily) Was I a good train this time Mr. Conductor?”
Andrew: “Yes you were.”
Sara:  “I’m sorry about the credit card. I’ll return the clothes I bought.”
Andrew: “Don’t return the red panties. I kind of like them.”
Sara: “O good you’ll look so cute in them.”
Andrew:  “Well I see you’re still a smart ass. But my arm is too tired to spank you anymore.”
Sara kissed Andrew. Andrew gently kneaded Sara’s sore red bottom.
Sara: “My bottom is so red (protruding her lower lip in an exaggerated pout). Kiss it better.”
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

Travel Update: August 19-24



I will be revisiting my friends and playmates in Charlotte, NC, and Tampa, FL, the week of August 19-24, 2012.
Disciplinary consideration in these cities is limited. For details, reference my Appointments page – and for a complete list of upcoming cities check the Travel page.


– Dana

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

‘Hard Consequences’: F/F spanking (with Ms. Cali and Heather Michaels)



Readers,


Here is the free preview video from ‘Hard Consequences’ – an F/F spanking video which I shot recently for my wonderful friend Cali at SpankingMsCali.com.

From Cali: “Heather & I get caught sneaking out for some fun, and Dana’s over-the-knee payback isn’t worth it! See the full scene, plus many others here at www.SpankingMsCali.com! You can also download this clips from my clips stores SpankingLibrary.com/store/22 or Clips4Sale.com/30067


Enjoy!

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

Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com Update: DVD’s now available!






POV – no male bottom visible in this video.

You are a bad boy, misbehaving in public while I tried to shop for new clothes for you. I give you a disappointed yet loving scolding, then pull you across my lap for a hand spanking, even making you look back at me while you’re taking your punishment. Then you’re sent to the corner to think about your behavior.

Five angles in this video: (1) You’re facing me for your scolding. (2) Looking down at me as I pull you over my lap. (3) Looking at the floor, and my shoes, as I spank you (your toes are visible in the background). (4) Looking back over your shoulder at me, mid-spanking. (5) Facing the corner, you turn around and sneak a peek at me. Bad!



*****






I am very happy to announce that you may now purchase Dana Kane DVD’s on my website – HERE!


This project has taken a while to sort out – from purchasing the proper hardware, software, etc., to rendering videos into the correct formats for DVD authoring, to choosing and creating cover art for packaging. Working out a few kinks took a bit longer than I’d anticipated, but it was worth the extra effort.


The DVD’s available on my website are not mass-produced by a media authoring warehouse. I edit, export, burn, and design each one right here in my home office. The DVD’s are not ‘fancy’ – you’ll find no hidden functions, advertisements, or 3D graphics – but the spankings are hard, and the players are real.


So if you’re not a fan of download sites, or even if you’ve purchased some of my videos online and enjoyed them enough that you’d like to own them on DVD, take a look at the available titles. Maybe you’ll find something you like. There’s even an option to create your very own Custom DVD, by choosing only the titles you want – I’ll make it just for you!


As with all endeavors, I value your opinions and feedback. Please feel free to leave your comment below, or email me your thoughts directly, at danakanespanks@gmail.com.


–  Dana

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

‘Ft. Worth Central Railroad Station’ : New original spanking story

Readers,


Here is another fine entry to the Brief Encounter writing contest. There’s a whole lotta spanking going on at the ‘Ft.Worth Central Railroad Station’!


– Dana

*****


I am a 58 year old retired elementary school principal and the mother of two grown children.  At five foot ten inches and 145 pounds I have a firm and well toned body thanks to my many trips to the gym.  My husband passed away three years ago and our two children have careers that made it necessary for them to locate out of state.  I decided that I needed new goals and one of these was to run a marathon.  


My primary running route took me by the abandoned Ft. Worth Central Railroad Station.  In 1945 it peaked with almost 700,000 passengers.  By 1979 usage had declined to 32,000 and it was closed and abandoned in 1988.  Today as I jog by this beautiful example of architecture I can’t help but think about how many lives and stories this structure touched.  


College students from near by Texas Christian University have staged wild parties inside the station.  I have even seen some of my former students sneaking in.  One of these, Jeremy, had even found himself face down across my lap more than once for a sound paddling.  


I explored the station myself and found beautiful wooden benches,  marble walls,  tile floors, and chairs that were once in the waiting rooms of some of the offices.  


I have lived in the same old historic home that I raised my family in for over 30 years.  It is located close to the station and T.C.U.  In fact there is both a fraternity and sorority house on my block.  


While jogging through the neighborhood I began to notice a pattern for the parties at the station. Boys from the fraternity house joined the sorority girls every other Saturday night.  And Jeremy was always there.  There were many nooks where I could hide.  One Saturday evening I hid in an alcove where the benches and chairs were in full view.  The older boys arrived first bringing kegs of beer followed by upper class boys and girls neatly dressed and some carrying paddles.  Paddling as part of official hazing has become illegal and antiquated; but, off campus paddle parties by members are common.  Before Jeremy started crying (I’ll explain that later) he told me that pledges to be paddled and members to be punished for demerits were instructed to wear tight jeans.  


The night I hid three boys and four girls were to be paddled.  The first two boys were pledges.  They grabbed their ankles while Jeremy laid on ten pops to each pledge.  You could hear the echo throughout the huge station.  Both boys had red faces and unhappy expressions when he was finished.   The third boy was there for punishment and he was to receive 25 pops from a senior sorority sister who was on the tennis team.  He had made unwanted sexual advances to a sorority sister.  He was forced to bend over the bench while two sisters held his arms rendering them helpless.  The tennis star was over six feet tall and had a beautiful figure and well muscled arms.  To my shock she unbuckled his jeans and lowered them to his knees along with his briefs exposing his naked bottom.  Now both his arms and legs were pinned.   The muscular sister gave this helpless man the most wicked paddling I had ever seen.   I am an expert spanker and my boys and students were very unhappy little boys long before they were left off of my lap: but, this athletic girl shifted her weight into every one of his 25 spanks.  His bottom turned red and then purple and blue.  When she was finished and he was released he laid limp over the bench.  The four girl pledges each received 10 swats from senior girls as they bent over the bench next to each other.  Ten different sisters went down the line giving each pledge a swat.  The pledges had trouble staying in place and let out yelps after every spank.  


Finally back to Jeremy.   I think that he found himself draped over my lap more than my own sons.  The school board policy only allowed five swats but I would have liked to double that at times for Jeremy.  I know he didn’t like it when he was over my knee and I always made sure he was well paddled; but, he kept coming back for more.  I think some boys need a firm woman’s hand.  


One of the activities the boy’s at the  fraternity would had were scavenger hunts.   And one of the items on the list was a pair of panties.  (Jeremy also revealed this to me before he started crying)  I happened to look out of my kitchen window and saw Jeremy steal a bra and my red panties off of my clothesline.  I was both furious and amused.  He knew I lived here.  This was the same behavior that would earn him a trip over my knee 15 years ago.  The next day I called the fraternity house and demanded to speak with Jeremy.  I told him that I expected him to meet me at the station at 6:00 sharp and that he was to bring my bra and be wearing my red panties.   I found my old paddle that I hadn’t used on my boys for over 15 years.   It was identical to the paddle I used at school.   I arrived at the station dressed in a black silk knee length skirt,  black stockings,  and a white blouse.   I wanted to make sure Jeremy knew it was a woman administering his paddling.  When Jeremy arrived I informed him that I was going to paddle my panties as I took the paddle out of my bag.  Jeremy complained that he was wearing them.  As I pulled out a straight backed chair and sit with the paddle on my lap I explained that since he was wearing them he would be paddled too.  And that when I was finished his bottom would be the same color as my red panties.   I ordered Jeremy to my right side lowered his pants to his knees exposing my red panties as I pulled him across my nylon clad lap.  


The first spank landed across the middle of my red panties.  Upon questioning he gave me all of the details of the paddle parties and scavenger hunt while  I continued to paddle my red panties.  By the 5th spank he was in tears and unable to explain any more.  He hadn’t been across my nylon stockinged lap in 15 years.  I was determined that this would be a spanking he would never forget.  50 spanks later his bottom was the same color as my red panties and he was bawling, kicking, begging, and pleading.  The spanks echoed throughout the station but no one but Jeremy and me could hear them- or so I thought.  the entire sorority had hid inside and were  viewing his paddling.  When he was let off of my lap the girls came out laughing as Jeremy danced, hopped, and cried as he rubbed his red bottom-  or was that my panties?  

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

Conversations with Spankos CH.11 : Let’s Talk About Sex (as in Gender)



It seems natural that our spanking proclivities would run along similar lines as our sexualities…or does it?


Even for those of us in the spanking community who do not find our spanking play directly motivated by sexual desires, most of us seem to play along gender preference lines. In other words, if you are a heterosexual male, whether top or bottom, your play will likely be with females. There is an inherent discomfort for some, playing with same-sex spanking partners, which arises, I think, due to the very intimate nature of this thing we do.


I am not commenting here on sexuality, sexual identity, or any -philia or -phobia. Rather, I am interested in how many of us play outside our ‘gender comfort zone’.


  –  After a talk with one of my playmates (who is male, heterosexual, strictly bottom), I have been wondering how often we step outside those comfort zones, and what that means to our overall lifetime spanking experience.  –  


During a conversation about the lack of female spankers in his relatively small town, he mentioned that he had once, in desperation, been spanked by another man. “I’m straight, but sometimes you just need a spanking, you know?”, or something to that effect, was his comment. Unfortunately, the conversation quickly moved on to another talking point and I was never able to ask the question which popped into my mind: 


‘How was it?’


The question is simple enough, but the answer could’ve been profound. 


The more I think about it, the more questions arise:


What did this experience mean to my playmate? Was it just as rewarding as a spanking from an authoritative female? Will he ever do it again? What were the nuanced differences of playing with a same-sex spanker for the first time?


My lovely friend Cali recently received her first real F/F spanking (from me, I am proud to say). She and her husband are monogamous spankos practicing LDD (read more about them on their blog), so I was particularly honored to be allowed access to her very spankable bottom. She seemed very comfortable, and can certainly take a spanking, but there’s no denying the significance of the event. 


Now I am curious (aren’t I always?)…what is your Spanking Gender Comfort Zone? And does it naturally align to your sexual/gender preferences? Have you ever stepped out of that zone for experimentation, desperation, or gratification? Or are you ready and willing to give/receive a spanking regardless of gender?

–  Dana

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

S.A.D. (Subs Against Delrin) : Lookin’ for Trouble



Readers,


By now many of you are familiar with Angel (of the video series Little Angel and the Wicked Stepmother), and The Very Bad Boy (who, along with his Wonderful Wife, is a longtime playmate and friend).
They are both as bratty as bratty gets, which endears them to me greatly. Try as they might, neither of them manages very often to ruffle my feathers.
This has led them to organize a ‘group’ which they’re calling S.A.D. (Subs Against Delrin). Ever since I videotaped The VBB receiving 200+ strokes with the Delrin Loop , he’s been on a personal mission to never EVER experience it again.


This silly campaign takes place mostly on their Twitter feeds ( @TheVBB and @SpankedAngel), and I am tickled to see that some of my other playmates and correspondents are getting in on the fun.


Lately though, they have both gotten a bit out of hand with their online bratting. It’s all in good fun, and I am always up for plenty of spanking fun, but there also comes a time when lines must be drawn. 


In the next couple months, I will host both Angel and The VBB and WW in my home. During these visits, they will both experience swats from each and every delrin implement in my collection – somewhere around ten pieces. I’ll videotape these disciplinary sessions and share them with you here.


(And for the two of you – because I know that you are reading this – be very afraid.)


–  Dana

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‘I will not push Ms. Kane’s buttons.’



Sometimes my email correspondents get a teeny bit…cheeky.


They think, because they are far away, that I cannot (or will not) discipline them for their brattiness. There’s some comfort in distance, isn’t there?


My playmates know that I have an immense capacity for misbehavior – that, while I definitely believe that discipline must be applied, a certain amount of brattiness is not only allowed but encouraged. Antics only make the application of discipline more fun for me, as I love a good struggle.


One particular boy decided to push it a bit too far in his email, however, even mentioning how happy he was to have been able to get away with online-bratting with no repercussions thus far. Obviously, he was asking for it..


..so I assigned him twenty-five handwritten lines, to give him a little time to think about things. I’m sure that he was thinking that this wasn’t much punishment at all, and it likely took him only a few minutes to complete – especially judging from his penmanship.


He was not aware, until now, that his assignment would be published for all to see. I do hope that this public embarrassment serves as further punishment for his cheekiness:

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Sunday DanaKaneSpanks.com Update (New F/F scene!)

My brother has sent his new wife, Cheyenne, to my home…so that I can teach her to cook. He is tired of eating junk for breakfast, and I’ve promised to teach her to make my ‘world famous biscuits’.
It becomes clear quickly that she has no interest in learning anything, so I have no other choice but to pull down her white cotton panties and spank her bare bottom – right in the kitchen.
Cheyenne keeps up the bratting, making an intentional mess in my kitchen, so I pull her over my knee for more hard hand spanking, until she begs me to stop.
(Click the title link for more.)













I know that he went to a massage parlor today, and confront him as soon as he comes home. I am livid!
After he admits it, I tell him that I am going to restrain him and give him fifty strokes with the leather strap as punishment for his pervy trip downtown – but as I am stripping him I notice spanking marks on his bottom…he got a spanking at the massage parlor!
This is the ultimate betrayal.
His punishment is doubled – to 100 strokes from my two leather straps – but I am so angry that I lose count, and he receives many more than one hundred..

Click the title link above to see more.





The POV addendum to this video, titled ‘POV: A Not-So-Happy Ending’, may be previewed HERE.



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New, Original F/M spanking story



Readers,


Here is an entry from the ‘Brief Encounter’ story writing contest. It looks as though Simon has gotten exactly what he wished for…

***
Simon looked around nervously, there was something about a station at 2pm that was a little spooky. For a start there was no one else there as far as he could see but there were many places that someone could hide and be watching him from.He wondered if he was the victim of some kind of practical joke, he’d turned up as instructed in the email from the mysterious Mistress A he had contacted over the internet through the Darkest Fantasy site, he was even dressed as instructed but there was no one else around. He decided he would wait a few more minutes before going home and putting the night down to experience. Just as he was about to go he heard the tapping of a pair of heels on the tiled floor behind him. He turned and saw a vision of stern beauty.  Mistress A was dressed in tight fitting leather trousers and a white blouse. In her hand she held a cane which as he watched she swished threateningly through the air. “You came then” she said “did you follow the rest of my instructions?” “Yes” Simon mumbled “Yes Mistress” she said and Simon dutifully replied. ” Good, follow me” she said in a tone of voice that brooked no dissent. Simon followed her as she walked into the waiting room. On entering he was surprised to see another younger woman there as well. Mistress A offered no explanation of her presence and walked into the centre of the room. ” Right” she said “trousers off” Simon dutifully removed his trousers to display a pair of very feminine red panties. He’d bought them the previous day and was sure that the shop assistant knew that they were for him. He had blushed terribly whilst paying and the assistant had given him a very knowing look before grinning widely. “Very good” said the Mistress “it appears that you can follow instructions. What do you think Samantha?” The younger woman walked over and looked him over intently. “Yes very attractive” she said “Do you think you can make his bottom match them?” The Mistress didn’t reply, she merely indicated that Simon should come over to where she was sitting. ” Right, over my lap” she commanded and Simon obeyed. Immediately she began to spank his beknickered bottom. Her hand came down hard and fast and in moments his bottom was stinging but she continued in the same way for another 5 minutes. Then she slowly peeled the panties down exposing fully his trembling buttocks. “They’re barely pink yet” she observed before bringing her palm down. Loud smacks rang out around the room whilst all the time Samantha watched with an enigmatic smile on her face. Simon squirmed and wriggled across her lap but there was no escaping the stinging palm. Simon felt excited and embarrassed at the same time. This was what he had imagined when he had first contacted the Mistress and the reality was even better than he had imagined lying in his bed at night. Finally the spanking stopped and he was allowed to stand up.
He stood there with his hands on his head whilst Samantha and Mistress A inspected his bottom. “Now for the cane, bend over and if you try to stand up or protect your bottom I’ll start again from the beginning”. Simon bent over the indicated seat. The spanking had stung but he knew instinctively that the cane was going to hurt considerably more. The Mistress ran her hands over his bottom causing him to shiver in anticipation. She swished the cane through the air menacingly, “I’m going to give you 36 strokes and I want you to count and thank me after each stroke, if you forget or miscount then the stroke will be repeated, do you understand” “Yes Mistress” he said trying to keep his voice from quavering.Without warning the 1st stroke arrived Thwack, the pain was intense and Simon was so shocked he almost forgot but just about managed “1 Thank you Mistress” The 2nd stroke followed immediately and to his amazement it hurt even more, “2 Thank you Mistress”. And so it continued and Simon discovered as many naughty boys had before that a caning becomes more painful and difficult to bear with each stroke. After 12 strokes she paused to inspect her handywork and both she and Samantha  ran their hands over his welted backside. Then it started  again and now Simon was yelling out the numbers and the thanks. The last 3 strokes were agonising but he managed to take them, just about. “Stand up” she said and grimacing he did so. ” Hmm that’s a well caned bottom don’t you think” she said to Samantha who cast a searching gaze over his bottom. “Yes” she replied “I think he’s had enough” Simon hoped Mistress agreed as his bum felt like it was on fire.
It was 5 Minutes later and Simon still bare below the waist was rubbing his buttocks ruefully. “Was that everything you imagined” said the Mistress ” Your email requested a spanking in a public place followed by a severe caning, I hope you liked the added touch of the knickers”. Simon had to agree that it had been better than he could ever have imagined. ” Of course, it’s not really a public punishment as there’s no one here but this is probably as close as you can get” she said and Simon remembered that he had said that one of his fantasies had involved public humiliation. “However at Darkest Fantasies we do try to completely fulfil your desires, so” and she waved Samantha over. Suddenly he was grabbed by both women and dragged back out into the station concourse where they quickly handcuffed him to the departures board. Suddenly Simon realised the foolishness of expressing all his darkest dreams to an organisation that promised a complete service. He could hear the women laughing as they walked away,surely they wouldn’t really leave him like this, welted bare bottom on show to all the commuters who he realised would be arriving in about 2 hours time. He started to sob gently at first but quickly he began bawling. After about 30 minutes of crying and struggling to get lose he slumped in his handcuffs. It was hopeless, he could just imagine the stories in the newspapers and perhaps even on the television. And of course in this day and age all the commuters would have camera phones, his backside was going to be all over the Internet by breakfast. This was exactly what his fantasy had involved but the reality was just too horrible to contemplate. “Please” he sobbed to no-one in particular.
Then he heard the tapping of heels on the station tiles.  
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Slippering: Help me choose

There are quite literally dozens of different slipper designs, and most of them are ugly. Of the few that are okay to look at, most don’t seem very effective for the purposes of spanking.


Here are a few I’ve been considering. Feel free to vote, comment, or link to your suggestions.

I own a pair of these isotoner ballet slippers (above). In my opinion they are too flimsy for a good spanking.



These are what I think of as traditional house shoes/slippers.



Here’s a sexier, Peg Bundy does discipline style.



A heavier soled, house slipper.

So tell me: Which is the ultimate spanking slipper?
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