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


‘Dirty Little Pervert’

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

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

What follows is exactly what he deserved.


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


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

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



Watch the video  here: 


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

Readers,


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


– Dana

*****


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



Readers,


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




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


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


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




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


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


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


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


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


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


Bonnie at Bottom Smarts. In a word: comprehensive.


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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Fiction: ‘The Predicament’



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


– Dana

 
“The Predicament”


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

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

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

Click for More from UK Laureate

*****




An Ode to New Year Resolutions

By UK Laureate


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

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

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

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

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

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

Now spankos all, please join with me in joyous adulations
Of Dana and all womenfolk who punish violations;
It’s at their hand we errant men receive our retribution –
And so I say ‘more spanking’ is our foremost resolution!
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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A new Clips4Sale store for Dana Kane



Readers,


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



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


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


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


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


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com 


– Dana


And a new banner:

Link to my blogsite here at: http://danakane.blogspot.com
or my Clips4Sale store at: http://clips4sale.com/50197
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Story: ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest



Readers,


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


– Dana

*****


I Broke My New Year’s Resolution


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mistress,” I said.

“Good, you obey very well.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Mistress.”

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

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

“Yes, Mistress.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mistress.”  I reluctantly said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whistle, Swat!

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

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

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

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking Great Poetry: ‘Maybe Later’

Readers,


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


– Dana

*****

Maybe Later


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

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Fantastic F/M Spanking Story: ‘The B.A.C.O.N. Project’



Readers,


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


– Dana

*****

‘The B.A.C.O.N. Project’



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Ma’am!”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” she inquired?

“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” he mimicked.

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he blurted sheepishly.

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

“Sorry, Ms. LeKane,” he submitted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “THE BACON PROJECT:

 Behavioral Application, Conditioning and Ontological Neoscience.” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I guess so..” he said. 


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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok, last phase,” she announced.

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

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

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

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

Again, he did as he was told. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes I did,” he responded.

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

“Where’s the Ms. LeKane, Nate”?

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

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

“Open your mouth, please” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Dana Kane Premium Spanking Video – coming soon!


Readers,

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

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

– Dana


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

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Story: ‘New Year’s Resolutions and the Consequences of Failure’

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


– Dana

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


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



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


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


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


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


– Dana

*****


Write What You Know


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


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



Readers,


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


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




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


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


The FAQ.


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


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


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


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


– Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Video: Product Testing with Dana Kane – Kitty’s Exotic Paddles

 

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



Indeed, I do.  March 26-31.


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


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


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


I will pack many, many canes.


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


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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The ‘Other Stuff’ Survey



Readers,


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


– Dana

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Loading…&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Video: Product Testing with Dana Kane – OTK Rug Beater



Readers,


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


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


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

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

 

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Social Sites for Spankos



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




Fetlife


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


Spanko.net


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


SpankoLife


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


Bottom Lines


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


SpankingNeeds


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


SpankFinder


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


Spankee Finder


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


Spanking Tube


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

*****

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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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A Song for the Holidays, by Dana Kane



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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


“But I’m Jewish..” he said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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



– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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What are we looking for?



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


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


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


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


Spanking


The first listing is the definition, by wikipedia:


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


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


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


Discipline


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


Naughty


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


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




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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Safety First. And Second. And Third.



Readers,


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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




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


Play safe, and have fun.


– Dana




P.S. Happy holidays!

 

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Thanks for the Memories



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


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


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


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


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


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


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


Thank you.


– Dana


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

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



Upcoming travel, December 2011 through March 2012. 




DECEMBER 2011:




   7-8     Ft. Lauderdale


  9-10     Tampa


 12-13     Richmond


13-14    Washington D.C.


14-15    Philadelphia




JANUARY 2012


   9-10    Sacramento


 10-11    San Francisco


 11-13   Los Angeles


 17-18    Phoenix


 18-19    Houston


 19-20    Nashville


 24-25    Atlanta


 25-26    Charlotte


 26-27    Memphis




FEBRUARY 2012:


  6-7     San Antonio


  7-8     Dallas


  8-9     Oklahoma City


 9-10   Indianapolis


21-23   Seattle


23-24   Portland, OR




MARCH 2012:


9-10    Rochester, NY


12-13  Denver


13-14  Kansas City, MO


14-15  Cincinnati




26 – April 2    London, U.K.




More dates coming soon. Email for scheduling:

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Dear Friends’ from The Wonderful Wife

Readers,

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

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

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

– Dana


*****

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

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


– Dana

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



Readers,


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


The most common Resolutions annually are:

1. Get fit / Lose weight

2. Spend more time with family and friends

3. Quit smoking

4. Improve love relationships

5. Improve finances

6. Quit drinking

7. Get a new job

8. Learn a new skill / hobby

9. Get organized

10. Volunteer / help others


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



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



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

*****

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


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


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


All entries should be sent to me directly:


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

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


Good Luck.   
– Dana




Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Four



Chapter Four:  Couples Therapy


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


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


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


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


And from the top:


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


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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Entry: F/M Spanking Stories



Readers,


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

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



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

– Dana

*****


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


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



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

*****



STUART’S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY SPANKING


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


The End.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Professional Etiquette

Readers,


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


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


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


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


This is about your backside, not your front side.


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


That seems very simple, doesn’t it?


Just in case, here are a couple examples:


Example #1: The Bad Email Example


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


Example #2: The Good Email Example


Hello Ms Kane,


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


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


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘A Perfect Spanking Storm’ : A true story, by the VBB

Readers,


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


From the VBB:

A Perfect Spanking Storm


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




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


Sincerely a Very Sore VBB

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Video: A Couple more F/F Scenes for Discipline Academy

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


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

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

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

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ : Original Spanking Stories



Readers, enjoy ‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ – an excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. I think you’ll like the *slant* as much as I did.


– Dana

*****
It’s Not Always What You Think

“Tonight is going to be it,” I thought excitedly, looking at my friends around the table “my very first spanking!” My wonderful collection of friends were joyful, laughing and talking like the eccentric, motley crew they were, gathered to celebrate my birthday with me. The seat next to me was empty, awaiting Michael, my wonderful new beau. Soon he would arrive, the party would wind down, and then he would take me home for my first real spanking. We’d been flirting about this for weeks now, the slow delicious build up of an incipient relationship. I was finally becoming comfortable with what I wanted from a man, after years and years of embarrassment and denial. For as long as I could remember, I’d longed for a man to take control of me, to put me over his knee and let me know I was safe and accountable. Tonight was the night!
Part of what had drawn me to Michael was his aura of sexual knowledge and mastery. When we’d started talking, he’d known SO MUCH! My head spun with each new detail. Doms, subs, spanking techniques, exquisite torture… he teased me with the promise of future experiences, then taught me submission by making me wait.  Tonight, my birthday, I was so overwhelmed with expectation and longing, I could barely sit still in my chair.
The evening was almost over but Michael still hadn’t arrived. He’d done this before and each time I was more on edge. He was later than usual tonight. As the party trudged on, and I grew more and more brittle inside, my best friend Donna poked me in the side.
“Stop that! Quit looking at the door. Be present.” Donna and her girlfriend Helen were my inner circle. Donna was my roommate in college. We’d been sister/friends ever since. When Helen came along, and she was just so damned perfect for Donna, there was nothing I could do but add her to my short list of people I love. Donna and Helen have had my back, and I theirs for so many years it’s second nature. When I finally blurted out, in an unguarded, drunken moment during a teary heart-to-heart, what I REALLY wanted from a man, after years of unsuccessful dating, Donna had taken it more in stride than I had, and became my “go to” person for fetish knowledge. Now, as the dinner wound down to a close, she slipped an envelope into my hand. “Open this at home, and use it as you see fit. You won’t be disappointed.”
Just as she did, the waitress wove her way between the tight tables to come to my side. “You just got a message on the landline. Michael Oscar says he’s been calling your cell but isn’t getting through. He’s not going to be able to make it.” She smiled companionably. “I guess he’s too caught up with his New Girl to make it out for ‘just friends’.
The world took an ugly jolt. “I beg your pardon?” I felt lightheaded but strangely calm. I’d never seen this girl before. She couldn’t possibly know my boyfriend. She balanced on her toes, holding her drink tray to her chest. “Michael Oscar, who works IT at the lab, right? He’s seeing one of the waitresses over at Dirty Dogs’. I hear they’re into some wild stuff, those two. And a weekend night off is a rare thing in waitress-world. It’s usually only Mondays.” She winked. “You know, we hear everything on the waitress- grapevine.” Her message delivered, she spun away, easing through the tables like a dancer.
I sat still, frozen but frantic, and reviewed everything I thought I knew. Michael had never taken me to Dirty Dogs’. He said he couldn’t stand the atmosphere. He was never available on Mondays, and in fact, usually saw me at the last moment, and at home, or a local neighborhood bistro. I had once commented that we could venture out in public more, but he had said he knew I was an introvert, and he preferred our quiet time together. As I thought it all through in my head, the many, tiny red flags I’d ignored coalesced into one giant “You Big Dummy” flag. My heart felt as if it would burst onto the floor right then and there, but of course, Donna and Helen didn’t let it happen. Donna bustled me up, gracefully ending the party. She and Helen got me home, and nestled into bed surrounded by my shiny, new presents. She set my card against the bedside lamp, made me a cup of tea, started a favorite mushy movie on the DVD player, kissed me on the top of my head and left me to my thoughts. 
After a good hard, cry, I checked my cell for messages (none from him, but who was looking anyway), then opened my card from Donna and Helen. Inside was a beautifully designed gift certificate for one session with the “Divine Dana Kane.” Across the bottom was a web address. On the back was a handwritten note “Here’s hoping your experiences live up to your highest expectations. We’re sure this one will. Much love, Donna & Helen.” 
Curious, and desperate not to think about Michael and the huge tornado that was slowly forming in my chest, I pulled my laptop off the bedside table. Her site came up quickly. I spent the next few hours poring over every single page. Some sent chills through me. Some made me so hot I had to get up to walk around. But the sum of the many parts left every nerve ending in my body awake and tingly. Even more, I suddenly had a whole host of possibilities buzzing around in my head.
Sunday, when Michael called, I was relieved to hear from him. But now I was listening with, as my second grade teacher used to say “my big girl ears on.”  He was so sorry to have missed my dinner. (Uh huh.) He had to work late on Monday so Monday wouldn’t be good. (Right, makes sense.) We could meet for lunch on Wednesday. (Not good for me. In the past I would have changed my plans. Not now, however.) He owed me a birthday present, he teased, and he would do whatever I wanted. What. ever. I. wanted, he emphasized. I played up how incredibly busy I would be at work this week. The less available I seemed, the more anxious to get together Michael became. Interesting.  His hardcore flirting still made my knees weak, but I found I was sifting it for content, and finding it thin. Michael, I realized, was a disappointer, a flirt who flirted until he thought he’d caught you, then slowly backed away.
At his insistence we met for coffee before work Thursday morning, but by then I had watched he and his new flirt-ette as they left the Dirty Dog together after her shift on Tuesday. I could tell by his body language that he was playing her too. Good to know. We made a date to get together for lunch on Saturday. And I set to work on my plans.
Saturday was a lovely day. I wore a particularly fetching outfit, a low cut corset-style blouse and a soft, flowing skirt over boots. I’m not the woman your eye goes to immediately but I can look good, and I did. Michael was particularly complimentary, and began hinting about “making up for lost time” after we ran the few errands I needed to do before lunch. He hated that I wanted to take my car but I reasoned that one of my errands was to pick up a car part. Better to have it than not. Our first errand was for my dry cleaning.  The second was to a lovely house, in a well-to-do neighborhood. 
“Good morning,” I said to the imposing woman who answered the door. She let us in with an impersonal air, looked us over and led us into a parlor that obviously served as a waiting room of sorts. Michael paced around curiously. I sat demurely in a chair, watching him evaluate.
“Nice place,” he said grudgingly. “What are we doing here?”
“It’s the birthday present you owe me” I said “and a going away present of sorts.” I tried to keep the triumph out of my voice. A door opened down the hall and I could hear the fast rat-a-tat of high heels heading firmly toward us. “This should be quick and painless” I smiled to him “at least for me. Michael, I’d like you to meet Ms. Dana Kane. You’ll do exactly as she says.”
As he followed her down the hall, as I gathered up my car keys and headed for the door, I thought of him finding his way home later with what Ms. Kane promised would be a very sore bottom, and of the video she’d promised to send me. It was a very good birthday spanking indeed.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Zoe: A note from the Contest Winner’s Wife



Dear Dana,

I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity to spend such an enjoyable afternoon of spanking with you. I wanted to write, not just to say thanks, but also to give voice to the experience of a wife (me) who is often less enthusiastic about spanking than the man she is married to. Our session with you was a happy reminder of the fun that can be had with spanking despite my occasional ambivalence towards it. Spending the afternoon with you and my husband was a thrilling and exhilarating high, filled with risks and adventures (I have never spanked him with anyone else before!) I highly recommend it for any wife, partner, girlfriend, or boyfriend who has ever started to find the ritual of weekly partner spankings to be a chore… it was a fantastic opportunity to remind myself that I can enjoy it for myself, and on my own terms. 
Looking forward to seeing you again soon!
Zoe
******************


Zoe,


The pleasure was mine. Tim’s story was so well-imagined that it was likely I would enjoy his company, but you were a delightful bonus! Beautiful and skilled – you are a formidable disciplinarian.
I will look forward with much anticipation to the opportunity to play with you two again.


– Dana
*********


Readers,


THIS is why I hold the writing contests. Every single one has led to my meeting and playing with someone who I find interesting and intelligent. It’s not just about the stories…it’s also about the storytellers.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!’ : F/M Spanking Stories

The ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest was a lot of fun, and it looks like the entrants enjoyed themselves, too. The author of ‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton’ is yet another example of the wonderful readers and contributors of this blog. Thank you again.


– Dana

*****

Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!
Greg Thornton was in a funk.  His girl friend of two year’s, Ashley Finney, unceremoniously dumped him two months earlier.  She told him she just couldn’t wait any longer for him to grow up.  Although Greg had a good paying job the last five years with Kramer Internet Marketing he still lived with his parents, had no savings and blew his time and money with daily visits to the corner pub and monthly junkets with his college friends to Vegas.  The poor boy was clueless and was completely taken off guard when Ashley dressed him down on a Friday evening after he showed up drunk and two hours late for a date.
His work suffered more than usual.  He showed up late about twice a week since his misfortune.  He missed a meeting with his boss the week before and a client got so fed up with him they requested a change in the personnel handling their account.  Greg was ordered to report to his boss’ office where they would review his performance.  How could I have let things get to this point he thought?  I use to be someone; star running back on my High School Football team, Class President, Dean’s List and Cum Laude graduate from the University.  The proudest day of my life was when I got my dream job at the age of 25 as a Junior Account Executive at Kramer internet.  Now I’m on the verge of getting fired.  
Greg’s visits to his bosses office were usually the same.  His boss Marybeth Bennett would tell him his strengths; his charm, his easy going manner, his skill when he was motivated and his intelligence.  Then would come a discussion of his tribulations at work; showing up late, hung over, not returning calls to clients and his bad attitude.  Greg would apologize and promise to do better.  Marybeth Bennett was a beautiful woman, raven black hair, hour glass figure, pouty lips and piercing blue eyes.  At 35 she was only about five years older than Greg, but was more of a Mother figure than a boss or contemporary.  She coddled Greg, not due to any romantic designs but because she saw the potential he was wasting.
This trip on Tuesday morning to Ms. Bennett’s office was different.  She asked Greg what was wrong, he had never been a model employee but the past eight weeks had been intolerable.  The next slip up would result in a suspension and the one after, his dismissal.  Greg saw the disappointment in his boss’ eyes and opened up.  He explained about getting dumped, for no good reason!  He felt like he was in a rut, he tried to work hard, but never got promoted, he was coming up on his 30th birthday that Friday and he thought his life so far was a big waste.  Marybeth had enough of Greg’s wallowing.  “What do you expect the poor girl to do, wait until she’s 40 for you to grow up and move out of your parent’s home?  As far as work is concerned, how can you expect to get promoted?  Even when your work is good you have an infraction at least once a month.  If I asked Ms. Kramer to promote you I’d be fired on the spot for incompetence.”  With that she dismissed Greg from her office.
Greg took his talk to heart, for the first time he actually thought about his life through the eyes of others.  He was a pretty horrible boy friend, always taking Ashley for granted.  He never realized that Ms. Bennett could get into trouble with Ms. Kramer for covering for him.  He resolved to lay low at least for a while until all of this blew over.


)Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.)

When he returned back to his desk and sat down to his computer, his office mate Barbara Fuller was waiting.  “I’m surprised you’re sitting down to work and not cleaning out your desk.  I can’t believe you’re still working here after all your shenanigans the last two months.”  Barbara was five years Greg’s junior in age but was on the fast track at work.  Although she had only been with Kramer Internet for three years she had been promoted twice and was Greg’s Section Leader.  Greg had rationalized being passed over as reverse sexism at a woman dominated firm, but had to admit that Barbara was brilliant, skilled, articulate, hard working and totally hot.  Barbara was blond, dynamite body, green eyed and about Greg’s height at 5’-9”.  Greg had contemplated asking her out, but she knew he had a steady girl friend and he thought she would reject his advances any way.   He could never score with a girl like that.  
Greg sheepishly replied, “Don’t worry Barb, I’m going to be better.  I’m sorry I have been such a waste these past weeks.  My birthday’s coming up, 30, and the thought of where I am in my life was just too much to handle.  But my talk with Ms. Bennett really cleared my head.  I’ve let you and Ms. Bennett down and it won’t happen again, I promise.”
Barbara retorted, “Well it better not!  I‘m letting you know now, Ms. Bennett has ordered me to report any of your transgressions.  I can’t cover for you any longer!  If I do it could mean my job!”
Greg stated with more confidence, “I understand, you won’t have anything to report, you have my word.” 
“Well at least you’re showing some remorse for the first time since I’ve known you and that’s a start.  But unfortunately your word isn’t worth much right now, with me, Ms. Bennett or Ms. Kramer.  I hope you mean it but time will tell.  Let’s just get back to work.”
Three days went by in a whirl.  For the first time in years Greg was a model employee, showing up on time, clear headed and ready to work.  He even solved a thorny problem from a client and Ms. Bennett got favorable call about Greg for the first time in a year.  It was Friday morning, and Barbara greeted Greg with a smile, “Happy Birthday, Birthday boy, good news, a group of us from work are going to take you out for your Birthday.”
“Thanks Barb, I was going to meet my buddies, but I think they may just drag me back to a place I want to stay away from.  Who’s coming?”, Greg asked.  
Barb replied, “Well it will be me, I’m also your designated driver for the evening, the rest is a surprise.  We’ll be leaving at 5:30 sharp.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, but Greg was excited. He thought, wow, how my fortunes have changed in just four days, things are going well at work and I’m going out with the girl of my dreams for my birthday.  5:30 rolled around and Barbara turned to Greg and said, “Let’s go, don’t want to make everyone wait.”
“For who?”, Greg asked.
“I told you it’s a surprise, so don’t ask again”, Barb replied.
On the way to this Birthday get together, Greg could hardly hold his excitement.  What’s Barb up to, no one came up to me today to wish me Happy Birthday?  Who could be coming?  Barb and I were the last to leave so anyone could be there, he wondered.
About 15 minutes later, they pulled into a restaurant Parking Lot, “The Loft”, one of the best restaurants in town.“  “Gee Barb, I’ve heard this is a great place, but I’ve never been here, didn’t think I could afford it.”
Barb replied, “You’re such a silly boy, if you didn’t waste so much of your money at the corner pub you could treat yourself to a place like this every once in a while.”
Barb asked the Hostess for the “Kramer Internet table”, and they were both escorted to a small booth, with two ladies with their backs to Greg.  When they got to the table, Greg could not believe his eyes, “Msss. Krammerrrer, Msss. Benneeettt,” he stammered.  “I can’t believe you’re here, where is everyone else?”
Diane Kramer was beautiful, but all business.  She had short dark hair, tall, slim, with a muscular build and blue eyes.  If you could say anyone had it all it was Diane Kramer.  She started Kramer Internet marketing at the age of 25 on a shoe string budget.  Now at the age of 40 she had built it into a 100 Million dollar company with her and her husband having sole ownership.  Her dutiful husband was the Chief Financial Officer for their company.  They had three teenage children that excelled in school and in sports.  Diane spent her free time as a tri-athlete.  She said it relieved stress and kept her in prime condition. 
Ms. Kramer was the first to break the ice, “Sit down and relax Greg, we won’t bite, and we’re the only ones coming.  Barbara suggested that since this was your big 3-0 we should take you out for the evening.  I don’t know you well and I like to know all of my workers and it will give me time to see what these two ladies see in you that I can’t understand from your employment record.”
Dinner was delightful.  Greg was able to relax after a couple of cocktails and able to be his best charming self.  All three ladies took a genuine interest in his life, his ambitions and his disappointments.  Greg even was open about his epiphany this past week when Ms. Bennett had to reprimand him for his poor work habits and attitude.  He assured all three ladies that all of those issues were a thing of the past.
Ms. Kramer responded to that, “I certainly hope so Greg and all three of us are going to help you with that.”
Greg only made one slip during the evening when he turned to his boss and said, “so Marybeth what hobbies do you have?”  Both Ms. Bennett and Ms. Kramer’s eyes narrowed and Ms. Bennett said, “Greg I’m Ms. Bennett to you at work, here or anywhere else we may be.”
Greg quickly corrected himself, “I’m so soooorry Ms. Bennett, I know, you will always be Ms. Bennett.”
After dinner their waitress came over to the table and said, “Your private room is ready now Ms. Kramer, can I show you the way.”
“You first Birthday Boy”, said Ms. Kramer as they were all led to a private room in the upper level of the restaurant.  Greg didn’t notice it before, but all three ladies were wearing Stiletto heals and all towered over him by at least 4 inches.  I feel like I’m in the company of three Amazon Princesses he thought to himself.
When they got to the room, there was a small table with four chairs and a small couch.  The table had a small Birthday Cake on it and there was a good size wrapped present on the side.  “May I light the candles”, the waitress said.  
“Please do”, said Ms. Kramer.  The waitress dutifully lit all 30 candles on the cake.  One for each year and then left the room.  The three women sang Happy Birthday to Greg.  He hadn’t felt so special since his Mom and Dad threw him a surprise Birthday 12th Birthday party.  “Okay, Greg now cut the cake for all of us, so we can have desert and coffee”, said Ms. Bennett.  
Greg cut the cake and gave a generous piece to each lady and one for himself, then poured coffee for everyone.  They began to talk some more just like they did at dinner.  When they had finished, Ms. Bennett said, “okay Greg open your gift.”  With great anticipation, Greg opened his “present”.  He opened the box and there was a large oak hair brush and an 18” cane with a sturdy handle.  He was puzzled but said, “Why thank you ladies the hair brush is larger than I’m use to but I will use it every day, and thanks for the pointer it will help while I’m making presentations at work.”
The three ladies simultaneously started laughing hysterically.  After regaining her composure, Ms. Bennett stood up went over to Greg, and put her hand lightly below his chin, stared into his eyes and said, “Greg that is not a pointer, it’s a cane and both hair brush and cane are going to be used tonight for your Birthday Spanking.”
With that Marybeth Bennett pulled one of the chairs away from the table, sat down and said, “it’s time now Greg come over to my side.”
Greg couldn’t believe his ears, “a spanking”, he had never been spanked in his life.  His parents didn’t believe in spanking and it had been outlawed in his school for ten years before he started.  His heart sank into his stomach, all the joy of the evening quickly dissipated along with any romantic thoughts he had about Barbara.  What is she going to think about me, after watching me have the first spanking of my life? he thought.  He went over to Ms. Bennett’s side, quickly got his head straight and started to plead, “please Ms. Bennett don’t spank me, I promised I’ll be good, and I’ve been great these past four days.”
Ms. Bennett quickly responded, “Greg, four days is hardly a career.  This spanking is for three reasons, first it is your birthday and all boys should get a Birthday spanking on their Birthday, good or bad.  Second, I’m combining your Birthday spanking with a punishment spanking for all the trouble you have caused me and the company these past five years and especially these past two months.  And third, this is to show Ms. Kramer that I’m not going to put up with anymore of your nonsense and the days of my coddling you are over.”  With that she reached for Greg’s belt to undo his pants.  Greg instinctively but is hands on hers in a vain attempt to restrain her.  With that Ms. Bennett gave him and icy glare and he quickly put his hands back at his sides.  With a very quick motion, Ms. Bennett unfastened Greg’s belt and slacks and quickly dropped his pants to below his knees.  His underwear quickly followed and Greg was standing naked from the waist down for all three ladies to see.  Although mortified, he couldn’t believe that some how he was also aroused.  Please let me stay under control for a little longer, he wished.  He stood there for what seemed to be good five minutes while Ms. Bennett gave a performance review summary for Ms. Kramer, finally she ended with, “OK Greg, now lay across my lap.”
Greg practically dove across Ms. Bennett’s lap, he was strangely comfortable as Ms. Bennett situated his member between her ample thighs.  Ms. Bennett stated, “Greg first a warm up, that’s thirty with my hand.”  One, (not too bad), two (other cheek), three in the middle, Ms. Bennett methodically covered Greg’s entire bottom with slaps alternating between cheeks and the center of his crack, seventeen, eighteen,  Greg squirmed a little and let out small gasps but  took it pretty well, twenty-nine, thirty.  “OK, Greg let’s really get started now, what do you say.”
Greg thought for a second and then answered as he thought she wished, “Please Ms. Bennett, please spank me.  I’m sorry I’ve been so bad.”
“Not bad for a rookie Greg, now let’s begin.”  One, nothing prepared Greg for what he felt from the first blow of the Oak Hair brush.  He gasped and choked a bit from a quick breath, two, Ms. Bennett spanked with the Hair Brush with the same methodical cadence as with her hand, except each blow got harder,  By ten, Greg’s arousal was a distant memory and he couldn’t help himself but to beg, “please stop Ms. Kramer, I promise I’ll be good.”  She ignored his pleas and by twenty, Greg began to cry, and kick.  
“Greg, control yourself, or you will be here the rest of the night.”  Greg quickly stopped kicking, but continued to cry until, “thirty”, he was a blubbery mess.  Ms. Kramer stopped the spanking and started messaging his back side with her hand.  “That’s a good boy Greg, almost finished.”  She allowed Greg to completely regain his self control and Ms. Bennett picked up the cane.
“Here goes Greg”, Greg slightly tightened his back side. One, right across the center of both cheeks.  If Greg was unprepared for the hairbrush nothing compared to the cane, he started to cry immediately.  Two, just a quarter of an inch above the first.  Ms. Kramer’s style was a different with the cane, she made parallel hits across his hind quarters that by twenty had covered his complete back side from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack.  Greg, by this point had completely resolved there was nothing to do but to surrender, he did so with minimum pleas but continued to cry like a thoroughly spanked little boy throughout, Twenty-nine, thirty, the last crack was centered on the first.   He just layed there when Ms. Kramer began her light massage.  “All done, you’ve passed your first birthday and punishment spanking, and if I were grading you I’d give you a solid B”.  
“Ms. Bennet, Greg may have only a B, but I’d give you an A plus.”  Greg heard Barbara state..  Then Ms. Kramer added, “I’m convinced too, I think you have started Greg on the path of being the kind of employee I thought he would be when I first hired him”.  Greg had completely forgotten the two ladies witnessing his chastisement and a sense of shame returned.  After a few minutes Ms. Bennett stopped.  “OK Greg, get up and remove your shoes, pants and under ware and go stand in the corner, I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”  Greg slowly got up and did as he was told.  By that time he had lost any semblance of modesty.  When he started to the corner, Ms. Bennett interrupted, “Greg, what do you say?”
Greg turned to face her looked down at the floor and said, “Thank you Ms. Bennett for my Birthday spanking and for everything.”
“Well Greg, at least this evening has made you a quicker study.  Now to the corner for thirty minutes, one for each year.  I don’t want to see your nose more than two inches from the corner and don’t even think about touching that bottom of yours or it will be back over my lap for round two,” Ms. Bennett replied.
While in the corner Greg could hear the ladies talking shop.  It was if he wasn’t even in the room, it had the tone of just a routine meeting at work.  Then he heard the door open, and their waitress came into the room, “do you ladies need anything more”.  “Just some coffee, Ms. Kramer answered.”  As the waitress poured she said, “well I see some young man had a memorable Birthday.”  “Yes, I think he has”, Ms. Kramer answered as all four ladies had a chuckle over Greg’s display.  
The thirty minutes felt like two hours, but finally Greg heard the words he was waiting for.  “Greg you can come out now”, Ms. Kramer said.  Greg felt a twinge of relief for his ordeal was finally over.  That feeling was short lived, he turned and saw Ms. Kramer in the spanking chair with the other two women at each side.  Barbara was holding the Hair Brush and Ms. Bennett the cane.  By this time Greg has completely submitted and he knew what this meant.  He slowly walked over to Ms. Kramer’s side.
As soon as he got there, all Ms. Kramer had to do was point to her lap, and Greg crawled over it like a submissive little boy.  Ms. Kramer locked Greg into place with her left arm, Greg felt he was in a vice and then Diane Kramer also started with her hand, one, as soon as the first one landed Greg knew that this would be no ordinary spanking.  He did not think that anyone could possibly spank harder than Ms. Bennett, but the first spank felt worse than the hair brush did on his well spanked bottom.  Ms. Kramer had a different spanking style than Ms. Bennett, the first used alternating blows and Greg knew where the next one was going to land, Ms. Kramer’s blows were completely arbitrary and could have several in a row in exactly the same spot.  By 10 smacks, Greg was again sniffling and at 20 he was crying hysterically, but he dare not kick, he was able to just squirm very little from the tightness of her grip, finally 30 and the first part of this Birthday Spanking was over.
Ms. Kramer was completely focused on her task, as soon as she was done, with Greg crying over her lap, she turned to Barbara and said, “hair brush please”.  Barbara handed Ms. Kramer the hairbrush and she started up again.  One was on the upper part of Greg’s right thigh, he thought that it felt like a hot frying pan, two, three, four landed in all different regions, Ms. Kramer used the same spanking style with the hair brush as she did with her hand.  By this time Greg was in complete surrender all he could do is cry and wait to the end.  Thirty finally came and Greg had no time to recover before he heard Ms. Kramer say, “Cane please.”
A few seconds later the cane came down on the center of his hindquarters, one.  It felt like a hundred bee stings and Greg was sure that his backside must have been a bloody mess.  In actuality his bottom was a deep shade of crimson from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack with splotches of purple throughout.  Two, three, four, all in different places, in different angles and patterns, with no way for Greg to prepare.  He was in a trance and lost count of the strokes and did not even know when 30 came.  He continued to sob over Ms. Kramer’s lap for at least 30 seconds before he realized the spanking was finally finished.  Ms. Kramer kept Greg over her knee for another minute but did nothing to relieve is throbbing backside until Greg’s sobs turned to blubbering and finally deep breaths.  “You can get up now Greg,” she said.
As soon as Greg got up, He looked at Ms. Kramer and told her, “Thaaaank you Mssss. Kramerer for my spanannking and giving me ananother chance,” he stammered.
Ms. Kramer got up from her chair, she seemed to tower over Greg and put one hand under his chin and softly said, “It’s all over Greg, you have a clean slate.  I’m going to inform HR on Monday to purge your employment file of all infractions.  When Barbara came to Ms. Bennett and myself to plead your case and to have this intervention, we knew there was no way you could keep your position and we could keep a potentially valuable company asset with the rules we had in place.  You are reborn tonight, just like the day you came into this world.  By the way I’m transferring you to a new section starting Monday, although we condone office relationships, you cannot have your new girl friend as your supervisor.  Barbara promised to keep you on the straight and narrow at home and Ms. Bennett and myself will keep you that way at work.  There will be no more talks in Ms. Bennett’s office, only spankings for now on for future infractions and then to my office for the same.  It won’t be patty cake spankings like the ones you just received but real punishment.  We each have a hair brush and cane in our desk drawers to match your Birthday present along with a four inch wide leather strap and 16” paddle.  We’re going to leave you now with Barbara.”  With that Ms. Kramer gave Greg a long hug and then kissed him on the cheek.
Ms. Bennett, then came over to Greg and gave him a hug and kissed him on his forehead, then turned and said, “you’re in very capable hands with Barbara, don’t blow it, I still have high hopes for you.”  With that both ladies left the room.
Barbara Fuller came over to Greg, and took his hand and led him to the couch.  She sat down, and had Greg sit on her lap.  Still naked from the waist down Greg buried his face on Barbara’s shoulder and started to weep.  “How can you want to be my girl friend after all I’ve done and what you just saw?” he asked.  
“Greg I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I came to work for Kramer Internet.  You were just so lost you could never see it.  As far as tonight, I’ve never been prouder of you, I know that we can make it together.  We’re going stop by your house to pick up your things, your parents are waiting and are thrilled you’re moving on with your life and in with me.  Bring your presents we will need them at our house.  I have only two rules at home, one, you are to do things my way, and two, when in doubt refer to rule one.”
They both lightly chuckled.  Greg had a mix of emotion he never experienced, partly well spanked little boy, completely forgiven, and the other new boy friend to the hottest girl on the planet.  He could feel his member slightly stiffen.  Barb sensed what was going on and gave his member a light slap, “there will be none of that for some time, not until you earned it.  Come on, get dressed and get your things we have a lot to do tonight.  We have to pack your clothes, move in and then I’ll be giving you your final Birthday Spanking of the evening at home.  Then I can nurse you back to tip top shape by Monday.”
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Photo: The VBB…three weeks later

It seems as though the VBB’s indestructible bottom was finally given a run for it’s money.
This photo, sent along by him and his Wonderful Wife, shows remnants of cane tip strikes, and a few dark abrasions…three weeks after our last meeting. (I also detect some much more recent reddening, no doubt the result of the WW’s well-practiced swing.)



We’ll be getting together again very soon. Lucky for him, he’s no longer in trouble. 

– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry

This entry from another great friend and fellow spanking enthusiast (a non-contestant in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ contest   due to our friendship) is well-penned and really quite funny.  Thanks again to my wonderful buddies who take the time and imagination to enter their works – you’re the best.
Enjoy!


– Dana

*****






Out and about at the electronic store that I oh so loved. The newest iPhone had just been released and I was determined to get it no matter I had to do to get it.
I had tried desperately every which way to get the money together to purchase the phone. I begged, tried to borrow even barter. All to no avail. Hours went by, then days, then weeks. My sister and her husband had just gotten the same phone. MY sister who knew absolutely nothing about technology. MY sister who didn’t understand the importance of the A5 processor, or the built in 8mega-pixel camera. MY sister who only got the damn thing cause it came in white! I was outraged, disgusted, and just down right fed up!
It was my day off from work. I counted my money as I did just several hours earlier before bed, hoping that some how the my cash flow had increased while I slept. Adding the disappointment was the dream I had in which I had miracluously found more money waiting for me when I recounted. In reality I was still close to fifty dollars short. With my hopes dashed again I decided I would get this phone today no matter what. Nothing was going to stop me. I was going to right this wrong that fate had done to me. The iPhone would be mine today oh yes it would be mine.
I arrived at the store plotting my move. Not only was I about to teach everyone that I always get what I want but I was going to teach this store that not allowing someone to purchase it for me from another state, and having me pick it up, was complete and utter bull***t. I’ll show them to deny me of my technological rights!
I scoped the place out. Cameras were everywhere. I had to be quick, and I may even have to run. The only comforting sight was the one security guard who was so fat he looked like he’d have a heart attack chasing after me faster then I would running from him. I walked to the cell phone isle and there I saw it. Locked behind a gate. This just became more trickier then I had planned. I took my book bag off my back and opened it fumbling around in it like I was looking for something. Looked around again. I debated if this would work. I considered abandoning the mission. Then I thought about all the injustices that had been done to me. My sister, the technological ***, the store not allowing an online purchase and in-store pickup, no no no, failure was not an option. Kneeling down still fumbling I reached pulled the gate that was being held together by a chain. I reached in and grabbed an iPhone box. I let it go so as not to draw suspicion.
I glanced around and realized no one had seen this. I was amazed. I reached in again and pulled out the box and placed it in my bag. I reached in again and looked up noticing a woman looking at me. I pulled my arm out making it seem as if I was just shuffling the products behind the cage around. Slick on my part I thought. No one in the store had seen me. If they did and I ran they couldn’t pursue me this much I knew from my retail days.
I continued about the store. I looked as if I was browsing other items. I would ocassionally reach in my bag and pull out the sales flyer looking as if I was browsing for a good sale. What I was secretly doing was using the knife in my bag to cut off the alarm attached to the box. I reached in again after the alarm wire snapped and quietly tore apart the box. I reached inside again when suddenly someone came up from behind me.
Damnit! It was the oversized guard. He asked me to come with him. I followed as he took me upstairs. He didn’t say anything to me suddenly to my amazement I saw my arm behind the cage shuffling the boxes. The camera must have been rotating and actually missed me jacking the iPhone.
“Can I leave now?” I asked the guard.
“Sir can you open your bag.”
“Absolutely not, I know my rights and you can’t force me to open my bag. So if you don’t mind I’ll be going now.” I attempted to walk out with my head down and walked right into the big man’s gut.
“Sir, if you don’t open your bag I’m going to have to call the cops. They can and will force you to open that bag.”
I made an attempt to try to run passed the big man but got caught between his stomach and the doorway. The man didn’t even budge. I was beginning to panic. My retail experience had taught me cops really could force me to open the bag, in which case I’d be screwed. I’d end up with no iPhone and a rap sheet. I began to think, maybe a little too quickly because the room was starting to spin. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. The big man opened it and was surprised to see a tall woman with dark jet black short hair standing in front of him.
“Excuse me sir, may I have a word with you.”
The man stepped outside. I figured one of two things was about to happen. This woman was going to rat me out or save my a**. The door reopened and to my surprise the woman walked in and asked me to have a seat.
“It appears we have a problem young man.” she said.
“The only problem I have is my civil rights are being violated! LET ME OUTTA HERE!” I began screaming loudly.
“Young man you better quit your bi***in. The problem we have is that I was really looking forward to buying that iPhone I saw you steal.” she said.
“You didn’t see s**t.” I angerily replied.
“Now is that any way to speak to a lady? Would you like me to help keep you out of jail or not?”
I looked at her not really believing what I had just heard.
“You give me the iPhone that’s in your bag and I will teach you not to steal. You see it’s my birthday and I’m not looking to be here all day so just hand it over and we’ll be on our way.”
“Happy birthday miss…” she cut in to announce her name.
“Dana Kane.”
“Ms. Kane but absolutely not. I’ve earned this iPhone.”
“Ok then I’ll just go tell Biggie Smalls out there to just a head and call the police.”
Suddenly panic struck again, perhaps this was a sign. Maybe this woman was meant to be in the store today to keep me from going to jail.
“Fine, give me the lesson and I will give up the phone.”
She flashed a devilish smile.
“Now we’re talkin. Come over here.”
I walked over to her as she tapped her lap. I was caught by surprise.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget now come across my lap.” she said.
“What exactly are you going to do?” I asked dumbly kind of already knowing the answer.
“I’m going to spank you. Naughty boys who like to steal need a firm hand to show them the errors of their ways.”
I couldn’t believe what she had just said. I hadn’t been spanked since I was a little boy. Here was this complete stranger who was offering to spank me to keep me out of jail, and she wanted the phone I so desperately wanted. This was all wrong.
“I’m not going to ask you again young man.” she said sternly.
Surely this had to be some sort of joke. If it was everyone involved was doing a good job at concealing it.
I finally and hesitently laid across her lap. I felt her hands sliding my pants down and quickly shot back up.
“Uh, what the heck do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
She sighed with frustration.
“Well I’m not really going to get my point across by spanking you with your pants up. Now come on I haven’t got all day, I’m going to miss my birthday cake.”
I again hesitently laid across her lap. She pulled my pants down and began running her hands over my exposed cheeks. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. The feel of her hands was some what comforting and soothing, right before her hand slammed into my left butt cheek. A sudden sting came across my butt. I could feel the heat resonating from the spot she had just assaulted. I couldn’t believe I was allowing this to happen all for a stupid phone. I kept my left hand gripped tightly on my shirt. The slaps came faster and harder and more steady.
I heard the security guard talking outside the door. I also heard another female voice. This voice I recognized.
“Just tell me where my friend is!” She screamed.
“I’ll show you.” The guard replied.
How mortifying, here I was being spanked by this complete stranger and now my good friend Angel Smith was watching it all unfold.
“Young lady please close the door behind you.” Dana said without missing one slap.
Angel looked horrified.
Suddenly the man spoke again “We think she was an accomplice to his theft.”
“WHAT!?! NO!”
“I’m not goingto have to ask you again to close that door am I?” Dana replied.
The guard closed the door leaving Angel and I alone with this woman. My ass was now on fire and I wasn’t sure when she was going to stop. Just as I thought that she did.
“What’s your name young lady?” Dana asked.
“Uh..Angel…Angel Smith.”
“Well Angel Smith don’t just stand there drop those drawers and get on your hands and knees.”
“For what?!?” Angel asked in protest.
“Well hell, if he’s gettin a spankin for stealin, and you’re helpin him that makes you guilty by association.”
“WHAT!!” Angel yelled.
“Kevin, what the hell did you get us into!” Angel screamed at me.
“This was your idea I just followed your plan.” which was a blatant lie, I really just needed Angel for the ride.
“Thats bullshit! Whoever you are…he’s lying I was just driving him here.”
At this point I was on my hand and knees only because it really hurt to sit down. If I was going down Angel was coming with me.
“Oh yeah, you didn’t want that iPod charger?” I blurted out. Angel’s face turned beat red. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear that I had just ratted her out or that I had gotten her in trouble, AGAIN. It wasn’t the first time Angel and I had gotten into hot water, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The two of us together knew how to make life hell for those around us.
“You sonofa!” Angel yelled before being interupted.
“Both of you quit your whinin. Angel get on your hands and knees or I will walk out of here and let the cops deal with you both. I have a birthday cake waiting for me, and an iPhone.”
Angel got down really slow. She shot me a look that would have killed me if looks could kill. Dana began to lower Angel’s pants slowly. I watched as Angel closed her eyes in a moment of pleasure. I watch intently what was coming next. Sudden the sound of a loud slap echoed throughout the room. Angel took a deep breath in but appeared to have a hard time letting it out. I chuckled which drew the attention back to me.
There we were side by side with our pants down, and this woman who we’ve never met in between us spanking our asses in unison. I gripped my left shirt arm tightly almost to ease the pain. Angel’s screams were getting louder as her a** was turning all different shades of red. I could tell she was having a hard time taking this, much harder then I was. So I decided to speak up.
“Let us leave first and you can have the phone I promise.” I said.
“Oh sweetness, I’m going to have that phone now you hush and take your punishment. You two are bad news. I had to take time out of my birthday to come and discipline you little brats. I should be home eating cake right now but instead I’m workin up a sweat tearin up your hides.”
“Look, Ms. Kane, I’m sorry just lets us go and I promise we’ll never do this again.” the pain was starting to become overwhelming for me too.
“I didn’t do anything!!!” Angel protested.
Our words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Dana just ignored us and continued. Finally she stopped. I heard Angel catching her breath. I was also trying to regain the composure I lost.
“Stand up both of you.” we quickly jumped to our feet. Angel went to pull up her pants, I was rubbing my butt with my hands however the touch was so hot and painful I really couldn’t.
“Turn and look at each other.” we did and were both shocked at how red our backsides were.
“You never know when there might be someone like me in stores. I suggest its in your best interest to behave from now on and keep your grubby little hands off of items you didn’t pay for.” she said.
“You’re both dismissed.” Angel and I picked up our drawers and I went to reach for my bag.
“That stays with me young man!” I put my head down and followed Angel who had already headed for the door.
Dana exited the room and called the security guard back in. As Angel and I emerged from the store we were both still in shock.
“I can’t friggin believe you blamed me for this!” She said.
“Oh be quiet will ya!” I reached in my right pocket and pulled out a small package and tossed it to her.
“Oh my! You got the charger!” her face lit up like a kid on christmas. It had been sometime since poor Angel had been able to use her iPod. I reached in my left pocket and pulled out a square piece of plastic. I tossed it to Angel who’s face lit up even more. She ran over and hugged me tightly. It was the brand new Lady Gaga album. Seeing Angel happy like that made it all worth it.
The security guard and Ms. Dana opened the bag and pulled out the box. They went through the contents. Their eyes lit up looking fierce.
“Why that little sonofa!” Dana yelled.
As Angel and I walked to the car I noticed she looked a bit sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She lifted her head and looked really unhappy.
“I’m glad you or I didn’t go to jail and all, but I feel bad that you went through all that and came out with nothing. I know how bad you wanted that phone.”
Back in the security room Dana, and the security guard were stunned as they stared into the iPhone box that held the iPod earphone, an iPod charger cable and surprisingly a Blackberry Curve.
As we drove off I unclenched my left hand and slid a brand spanking new iPhone out of my long sleeve.
“It wasn’t a total loss, I have iPod cables at home. Like I always say Angel…I always get what I want!”
THE END
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A Few Words (and a photo!) from the Contest Winner

Readers,


This week, I delivered the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest winner his Prize…


After contacting Tim to tell him of his victory, I found that he was so happy to have won the writing contest that he shared the ‘good news’ with his lovely wife, Zoe. I promptly invited him to ask Zoe along for our playtime, and to my great good fortune she accepted.


Zoe and I had a fantastic time teaming up on Tim, and he was an amazingly good sport about the whole thing (imagine that).


They’ve been kind enough to send along a photo to share here, a few hours post-spanking. Not only can Tim take a hard spanking, but he has a surprisingly resilient bottom! (Below the photo, a few words from Tim on our fun afternoon.)


– Dana

*****

Hi Dana
 
Just wanted to say thank you again for a wonderful session yesterday. We were both delighted with how easy-going fun and friendly you were, and it felt like a very safe introduction into the wider world of spanking.  I can’t imagine a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than being whupped by two beautiful women.
 
Zoe was particularly delighted at how well she was able to take aim when my butt was perfectly positioned on the spanking bench. She confessed afterwards that she was slightly worried about how hard my punishment was. When I pointed out that she hadn’t seemed to let that affect how hard she swung that heavy paddle on the sixth swat she just smiled and said, “of course not.”
 
Please find attached a photo we took when we got home. This was taken a good 5 hours after the event, and as you can see my butt has recovered somewhat. You can still see excellent evidence of the loopy cane and the ‘grill’ marks from your hairbrush.
 
Very best
Tim





Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Stories: ‘Twin Cheeks’

Here is an exceptional entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, written by one of my favorite new playmates. I gave him his first spanking…and will soon deliver another. 


A true spanko, he’s even started his own blog, with an interesting perspective on the spanking lifestyle. Visit his new blogsite at: Secret Spanko.

– Dana

*****


‘Twin Cheeks’
This story took place a few years ago. It was the perfect storm of events that led to a night I’ll never forget. Although it’s led to a great deal of fantasies, it’s probably for the best that it hasn’t been repeated. 

My wife and I are spankos, I guess.  Mostly it’s foreplay that turns us on- something we discovered about each other in college.  But on occasion we’ve spanked each other “for real.”  Yes, I said each other. We’re both switches, I suppose. I’d say typically about 70/30 it’s me giving and her getting just because that seems like the more natural fit to our personalities and sexual identities. Actually it sort of fit the opposite of our personalities.  She was uptight and in control most of the time, and needed to let go and feel like someone else was completely in charge more than I did.  That was not to be the case on this night, though, which was anything but typical…

It was a Sunday night and I’d just helped brush teeth, read the same story for the fiftieth time, and tucked our two little kids into bed. My phone buzzed and it was Lauren (my wife) sending me a text. 

“Get ur suit on n get ur butt out here S wants 2 play if n bring another bottle!”

So I stripped and got my swimsuit on, stopped by the kitchen to grab another bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge. We had a bunch left from the party we had the night before. It was a birthday party for Stacy (the aforementioned “S”) who lived down the street and was my wife’s best friend.  Stacy and I actually share the same birthday, year and all, and it wasn’t really our birthday until Monday. But I wasn’t nearly as keen on celebrating mine, I guess.  Grabbed a couple of beers for me and headed out to the hot tub where my wife was enjoying the night with her friend.

Stacy is pretty much the polar opposite of my wife in every way. Lauren’s petite, brunette, and kinda curvy; Stacy’s thicker, blonde, tall, and very curvy. Lauren’s quiet, almost shy, and sharp as a tack; Stacy’s loud, outgoing, and well… Not so sharp sometimes. Lauren is for the most part straight-laced and proper, while Stacy might be described as earthy. My wife had sophisticated refined tastes, and had grown up in privilege; Stacy had grown up in a small town, and my wife said sometimes that showed.  But they had been best friends for awhile, and they complimented each other almost as well as Lauren and I did. In fact, Stacy and I had a lot in common. One could replace me with her in each of these comparisons and they still be accurate. (Well, except for maybe the “really curvey” part).  That combined with our shared birthday led to the running joke that Stacy and I were long lost twin siblings. And of all her friends I probably got along with Stacy the best, though I didn’t always care for doing things with them because Stacy’s husband Ted was so dull.  On the other hand, Ted was at home tonight, and Stacy was a big flirt, which I secretly kind of enjoyed. So I didn’t mind interrupting their girls night to join them, especially since I’d been invited er, uhm… commanded to do so.


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


I brought out the drinks and joined them in the hot tub. Most of the lights were off and it was a gorgeous early fall night. Greetings and a beer later, Stacy was back to these “IF” books she’s gotten the night before…

“Okay next question for you Dusty… ‘If you could live in any other historical era, which would you choose?'”

“Uhm… how about the 1880’s in the wild west. Driving cattle across the country and stopping in the little towns where the saloons had whorehouses upstairs!”

“Why did they call ’em saloons instead of just bars?” Stacy wondered aloud. 

“Dusty! Can you just try not to make everything dirty? For once?!”

“Ha. Did you catch that honey? Dusty and dirt-“

“-You’re gonna catch it tomorrow night. Just keep it up. I’ll remember, tough guy.” She wasn’t really mad, but I knew she’d remember it.

“Y’all are so cute,” Stacy chimed in, “Are ya gonna spank him?”

Lauren looked at me. 
“Well…Answer her.” I said. 

“Yes, he’ll get a spanking tomorrow night.” 

“For that though? I mean, he just answered a question.”

“Stacy, tomorrow is my birthday, remember? I’ll get a birthday spanking. Actually probably a birthday paddling. Would you like to join us? It would seem appropriate.” I said with a smirk.

“Oh NO!  No no don’t think so… I’ll let you play your kinky games but keep me out of it. No thanks!”

A little background here… Somehow late one girl talk night Stacy found out about our spanking “kinky games” and was clearly fascinated by them.  She brought it up… a lot. Of course, over the years I also heard probably way too much about her sex life, and her poops, and even her periods- and that was me!  Can’t imagine what all my wife knew about her. Like I said, she was a little “earthy.”  So maybe it was just natural curiosity that was voiced a bit more often than most in that situation, but I suspected she was really just a little TOO curious about it, and didn’t mind telling her about our spanking play, so long as she kept it to herself. 

“So even though I’ll get it regardless, I kind of like to give her some motivation. But sorry honey, I didn’t mean to give a dirty answer. I take it back. No cowboys. I’d be a pirate… searching for booty!”

This earned me a chuckle from Stacy and a splashy pinch from Lauren. 

So it continued… back to the IF questions.  We sort of rotated around the hot tub so that whoever was reading the question could see to read it from the one light.  This was interspersed with gossip about the neighbors, people that came over last night, etc… a few more drinks, until Stacy reached for the other IF book.

“Alright y’all… this is the IF book about love.  Let’s spice things up a bit.” She flipped it open, “Great one to start off with, for you Dusty. ‘If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, which celebrity you choose?'”

“That’s a stupid question. Pass.  None of the above.”

“Nope.  Not good enough.  Gotta name somebody and give a reason why.”

“I don’t even know many celebrities. Alright, hold on… Got it,  Tom Cruise.  He’d know what he’s doing, plus he’s small so it wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Ewww!” but Stacy was laughing.

“Sick! You put way too much thought into that.  That’s some more extra. Honey?! So wrong!”

“Better watch it, Dusty!”

“Lemme see that!” I grabbed the book away from Stacy and peered close so I could read it in the dim light. “Alright my twin sister, payback’s fun.  This one’s for you.  ‘Follow up…If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, who from among your friends and acquaintances would you choose?'”

She answered immediately. 

“You know that new couple at the end of the block that just moved in? What’s her name? Deanne or something? And her boyfriend I think his name is Val, maybe?  Met them once… Seem friendly. They both have the same black hair- kinda long for him, kinda short on her. But no way you couldn’t tell ’em apart.. Something almost scary about him, like he could be a villian in a movie or something. But she’s got a body on her though. Saw her picking up the paper in just a t-shirt the other morning when I was out jogging. I don’t know… Something kinda alternative, kinda dangerous, but naughty about her. Definitely sexy. She smiled big and waived at me that morning.  So her… That’s my answer. Whew!”

Lauren and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. More thought went into that answer than my Tom Cruise response.  Stacy took a couple of deep breaths and had another big sip of wine. A little awkward pause…

“So Stacy… ever experiment in college?”

“Dusty! Thin ice, bud…” My wife warned me. 

“Ha! That’s alright Lauren. But I’m not going to answer, my nosey twin brother. We’re not playing truth or dare, and I wouldn’t want to spoil your fantasies!” She said with a wink, before grabbing the book from me. 

“Oh Laaauren… ‘If you could trade body parts with any of your friends and acquaintances, what would you choose?'”

“Your breasts. Dusty’s been staring at them all night.”

“I’d trade you too. If you only saw them without my swimsuit holding them up… And the backaches, and the shoulder strap indentations…”

I decided it was best to just remain silent since my wife was correct. Lauren grabbed the book back.  We weren’t strictly keeping any order. 

“Alright, Stacy…’Follow up… If you had to live with the body of one of your friends and acquaintances, who would you choose?'”

Stacy paused, took another big sip, then paused another bit before answering. Or, sort of answering. 

“Let’s play a different game. It’s called the honesty game. Dusty you were right I did experiment once in college. My sorority big sis during Hell Week. Pledges had to live with our big sisses and it got pretty intense. Never happened again though, and the next year when it was my turn my little sis didn’t respond to my clumsy post-paddling advances like I had the year before I guess.”

“Thanks for sharing, but I was half kidding and didn’t mean to pry… Sorry about that, just trying to give you a hard time.”

“No need to apologize, Dusty. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Guess my chest’s gotten plenty of attention tonight, huh?” She giggled and kind of squeezed her chest with her arms, making it (them) even more pronounced before continuing. “And I thought y’all should know that because it helps to understand my answer.”

“Don’t worry about. No need to defend yourself. Heck I’ve never experimented like that but if I had to switch bodies I’d choose  a woman’s body too. Prettier, and I know how they work too.” My wife chimed in. 

“Wait did you say you were paddled?” I added. 

“Well, no, and yes. [Big gulp finishing glass] I’d choose to be in Dusty’s body. The birthday paddling from you thing. But wouldn’t play with it or anything, don’t get any ideas there, bud.”

We let her words, and their implications sit in the air a moment.

“So you DO want a birthday spanking?!” I said with a grin. 

“Honey you’re such a dolt sometimes. Yes, and wants me to give it to her because that would take her back to that moment with her big sis in college.  Stacy, I’m more than happy to help, if that’s what you really want, but I don’t plan on “experimenting” afterwards.”

“Got it. And agree. That might make this even more awkward!  I want to, but let’s do this before I chicken out.”

“Well, it is almost midnight… But I don’t want this to be something you do without intentionally doing so with your eyes wide open and not fueled by too much wine. You know that’s a pretty severe spanking, you’re asking for, right? I know how old you are.”

“Yes, I know. If I’m being all honest here and whatever…I’ve been fascinated anytime y’all talk about your spanking games. It makes me tingle and get all nervous inside.”

I knew it!  Love it when I’m right. But on the outside I said “Wow, had no idea or I would have talked about it even more!”

“Stacy I want to make sure here… You know it’s going to hurt, a lot… And when I think of birthday spankings I think of the person getting them in their birthday suit. That’s how we’ve done them, for several years now.”

“Remember, what brought this all on is that I have been paddled- thanks for your concern, but I get it. And as far as being naked goes, I’m not all that crazy about it but I know that’s part of it too. I’ll let you answer that one question again after you see these girls floppin’ all around!” 

“I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through,” said my ever sensible wife, “what about when Ted sees your red rear end?”

“Please… We did it last night after the party so I’m good for at least a week, and can’t remember last time we had the lights on, for that matter. Tomorrow’s Monday, and he’ll be up and gone before I’m in the shower. We’re cool.”

Lauren looked at me in an attempt to share a “look” but I wasn’t sure what it meant. Oh well, I guess she did… so I sort of nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.  Dusty will go first, and then you can decide if you still want to go through with it. How’s that sound?”

“Deal”

“Go pick out a paddle, and bring us some towels, sweetie. Oh and another bottle for afterward”

I got up out of the hot tub and headed for the “pool room” as we called it. It was a tiny half bath with a door to the backyard and a big closet for pool stuff. Looked in there and there were only two towels. Dangit. The kids were asleep, the girls wouldn’t be in, so I shucked my wet swimsuit and laid it on the counter before venturing into the house so I wouldn’t drip water all over the place.  It was only then that I realized that her “look” had probably been to make sure I was okay with this.  Of course I was, but I smiled thinking about how I just nodded.

First to the utility room to get extra towels, then to the back of our closet to get a paddle. We had several accumulated over the years, and hid them in a cabinet back behind our winter coats. I started to get excited looking at the implements and thought about what was to come. Pavlovian, I guess. On the one hand, it wouldn’t be done in our bedroom and I might have to wait for the sex to follow, but on the other hand, the thought of Stacy would more than make up for it. Now which one to pick? 

It struck me all of a sudden- perfect! Closed the cabinet in the closet  and went to dig around in the boxes in the other closet under the stairs where we kept old stuff that we didn’t use but couldn’t make ourselves get rid of… Where was it?! This was taking too long.  There it is! Finally!

It was Lauren’s old Kappa paddle. Never used on her back then, it was painted brightly with little cartoon angels and arrows and greek letters. But it would still work I thought, tapping it against my thigh.  Perfect for tonight!

Made my way to the kitchen and picked up another bottle. I had the towels under one arm, and the wine and paddle in my other hand. 

That’s funny, didn’t remember shutting the door… Put the bottle under my other arm (Brrrr!) and turned the knob… WHOOAAHH!

Okay so maybe if I were thinking or a perfect gentleman, I would have quickly backed out and shut the door. But I didn’t. 

Stacy was standing up from apparently just having used the toilet, and her one piece swimsuit was around her knees. 

“Well hello there!”

“Oh so sorry!” I said finally coming to my senses and backing out.  

“No need now. Help yourself to a good look- ha! I am!”

Arms full, I tried to cover myself with the paddle. 

“I do like a man with long hard wood hanging down between his legs!”

We both chuckled and I set the paddle down with a clatter and finally took the wine bottle out from my armpit. Her wet swimsuit was loud as she struggled a bit to pull it back up. 

“Besides, I bet we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other here pretty quick!”

Dressed now, she flushed, and picked my shorts and handed them to me. 

“Take your time!” She said with a grin, and picked up the paddle. “Nice.”

“Sorry, Lauren hates it when anyone drips water through the den coming in from the pool. Just thought it was easier like this. Uhm, why don’t you go on. Give me a chance to uh, compose myself,” I said, looking down to acknowledge my uh, state. “And let’s not mention this if you don’t mind, I think we’ll get plenty of heat as it is and don’t think Lauren needs TOO much extra motivation.”

“Okay got it. Lips are sealed. See you in a minute.”

She left, and I put the cold wet swimsuit back on. It certainly helped me “compose myself” before heading back into the night. 

“What took you so long?”

Did I trust Stacy not to tell? “Took me awhile to find this, but I thought it was plenty appropriate.”

“Awww how thoughtful. Haven’t seen this in awhile.   I’d almost forgotten about it. Why haven’t we used it before?”

“Lemme see… Wow, this is just about the same as I remember her using”  
Well, Stacy was playing her part. So far so good. 

“Alright sweetie… You know birthday spankings are in your birthday suit. Come here.”

I went over and she untied the draw strings and pulled my shorts off again.         
“I need to be able to see what I’m doing, and I’m sure Stacy wouldn’t mind a better view too. Run hit the porch lights and the pool lights for me, will you?”

I should have guessed that was coming. Bless her heart she knows that when I do submit to her spankings, I have a love/hate relationship to the embarrassment almost as much as with the pain. We had a big yard though and backed up to the golf course- surely no one was out there now, right? The lights now on, I strolled back to the hot tub in full view of the two of them, who stared openly. 

“Right over here… Hands on your knees.” She patted my bottom a few times. “You probably don’t know this Stacy but for whatever reason, we’ve discovered that a spanking on a wet bottom hurts a lot more. I was going to give him a warm up with my hand, but would you like to have the honor?”

“Uhm, okay!” She popped right up. 

“Not too hard, but not too soft either just [smack!] like this all [smack] over his little bottom,” She demonstrated. 

“I think I can handle that”

Smack. Smack. 

My wife stood to the side, rubbing my back. “Feet a little further apart dear.  And Stacy, feel free to admire his birthday suit.  I happen to think it’s well made, even the seam here…” She interrupted my warm-up to trace her hand up my leg and my uh, seam. Stacy got a few bum squeezes in before matching Lauren’s actions, and if anything was even more aggressive in checking out the nooks and crannies of my “suit” before beginning to warm my seat up.  

“You know what, let me show you something. You’re standing too close, that’s why it feels a little awkward.  Really for a warm up in this position, I like to wrap my other arm around his waist, like this.  And your other hand goes down here and you can rub his belly, or make sure he’s sticking it out enough, or even tease him just a little.  Most importantly, you can [smack!] get a good swing [smack!] like this too.  Alright, you try.”

Stacy sort of leaned over me and wrapped her arm around me.  First thing I noticed was the difference between my wife’s smooth skin next to me and Stacy in her cool still-damp swimsuit pressed next to me and my wife’s familiar skin in Lauren’s two piece suit.  Maybe surprisingly given the size difference, Stacy didn’t spank as hard as my wife, even if it was just a warm up.  But her other hand… that was far closer to well, me… than any unfamiliar hand had been in over a decade, and it was pretty exciting, even as the sting was building in my bottom.    

“I think he’s plenty ready” my lovely wife said, picking up the paddle, “I think you’ll need to brace yourself a bit more for this. Let’s have you gripping the wall; stick it out a little more… that’s it.  Here we go… count ‘em.”

“Wider stance… And get your back down, I like to see the family jewels dance, and I bet Stacy will too!”

They both chuckled as I complied and then wiggled a little to give them a show. 

The rock wall I gripped was rough and dusty, but still my palms were sweating profusely. I knew this was going to hurt, and not only that but I had an audience. And not only that but an audience I didn’t really want to break down in front of… wait was I trying to impress Stacy? Was that okay or was that wro–

WHACK!

NnNgggrrah…that hurt! The first couple always seemed to hurt the most. 

“Happy Birthday dear!” She said cheerfully. 

GAAAaaaah! Another one. Like a teacher strict the 1st week of school the first few were full force to show- AAAaaaRrrggh! -she meant business, I guess. 

“That was three, sweetie, I need you to count ’em for me.”

POP!

“Four!”

SMACK!

“Uuuunnh… Five”

Less intense now, they still hurt plenty. I wasn’t caring much now about putting on a show.  But I got the -“MMmmuhh- Six!”- impression that she was toning it down just a bit so as not to scare our -OOooww! Dangit! Right-in-the-same-spot!- audience that was about to get hers. The swats continued, gradually increasing in intensity. We hadn’t used that sorority paddle in a long time and it sure packed a wallop. I turned my head around to look at her and confirmed that the mental image of my wife in her bikini holding the paddle was indeed sexy in real life too. Then I saw Stacy with a naughty looking smirk on her face clearly enjoying the show. 

“Aaah… twenty-seven!”

“Turn back around, dear.”

WHACK!

“GGgrrrrr… Twenty-eight”

“That one really hurt, didn’t it?”

“Uhm, yeah, I’d say it really did!”

“Good.  Little harder now, sweetie. Finish strong for me.”

Yes, the last few were plenty strong. Especially the “one-to-grow-on” final swat. My knees buckled briefly, and she set the paddle down to fondle, squeeze, and caress my cheeks. 

“Stace, come here and feel how warm they are.”

Four hands massaging and squeezing my cheeks was nice. Two fingers pointing out and then poking the spots that hurt the worst was not so much fun. I just stayed in position, breathing deeply and trying to recover. 

“Can I give him a couple to grow on too?” Stacy asked my wife. 

“I don’t know- he’s marked up pretty good already.”

“Come on Dusty, you can take a couple more, right? Please? Say yes. Do it for me.” Stacy pleaded in her sexiest voice, leaning in against me and rubbing my back and shoulders for emphasis. 

“Alright.”

Stacy clapped her hands together with glee as my wife handed her the paddle and gave her instructions as to where to hit me.

She put one hand on my back and took a swing. OWWW! Sort of hit the outside of one cheek. The next one was a more solid pop, but not as hard as those from my wife. 

“That’s it honey, you’re done. You can get up and rub. Happy birthday dear.”

We kissed then, but mindful of our audience kept it pretty tame. I jumped around a little bit in my energized post-spanking state. This made Stacy giggle as she saw a certain part of me flop around. 

“Alright you’re up. Still want to go through with this Stace?”

There was a moment of silence as Stacy looked down, hands covering her face and she appeared deep in thought. Her head came halfway up as she looked right at me, and then down a little before turning back to Lauren. 

“Okay let’s do this, but I wanna keep my suit on.”

“Nope. I need to see your bare bottom to judge the swats.” 

“Well look, I can just do this.” Stacy said, turning around and bunching up her swimsuit into her bottom between her cheeks. 

“Stace, come on…”

“Yeah what happened to birthday spankings in our birthday suit my little twin sister?!”

“Problem is there’s nothing little about me. But guess y’all are right. What’s the old saying? In for a penny… about to see a lot of pounds!”  

She slipped the shoulder straps of her suit down. 

“Nonsense Stacy, you look great.” I said trying to be helpful (and very much looking forward to warming her up!)

We were both staring at Stacy as she peeled her swimsuit down to her waist. 

“Y’all are making me blush!” I was pretty sure she wasn’t blushing and despite trying to protest and act modest, in reality she was enjoying putting on a show.  ***** “Not passing any pencil test, that’s for sure! Still want these, Lauren?”  

“I want ’em.” Crap! Why did I let that slip out?! That was supposed to have remained an inner thought!

Lauren looked over at me, then looked down, and didn’t like what she saw, I guess. 

“You look lovely Stace. But you know what, Hon, I think you need to cool off a bit. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool. Maybe swim a couple of laps while I warm her up.” 

“But I-” and then I saw her look and knew exactly what she meant this time. She meant business. So I turned around and stepped into the frigid-feeling water. My “excitement” disappeared instantly. The minute my sore rear end hit the water it did feel kinda good, I guess it was like an ice pack.  I wasn’t happy about missing the show, but probably it was for the best. I really should not be lusting after Stacy like that.   The water wasn’t THAT cold and I eventually got used to it. It felt nice to swim naked and working my sore legs and ass felt good too. Done with a couple of laps, I looked up at my wife spanking Stacy. I really didn’t want to miss the show. 

I saw Stacy bend over further to grab the wall, her warm-up complete.  I decided to get out of the pool just as my wife was picking up the paddle. 

Bbbbrrrr… The night air hit me. And here I thought the water was cold!

Toweling off, I quickly made my way over to them and stood near my Lauren, who was about to begin.   Your turn, little missy…

Stacy was bent over just as I had been, grasping the stone wall. So much for not lusting after my neighbor. *** The tan lines on her round bottom were still visible but less pronounced where the lines were blurred by the pink remnants of her warm-up. 

“Don’t worry about counting these. I’ll keep track. You just try to relax and take them like a big girl.” My wife said, tapping the paddle against Stacy’s rear. 

Pop!

“That was one”

Pop! 

“Two”

She didn’t start off strong like she did with me I noted.  They must have still stung though, because Stacy would clench her cheeks or make cute little sounds after each one.

However, the swats started to gradually increase in intensity. I set the towel down on the table, but then wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. I didn’t exactly have pockets. I watched my sexy wife wield the paddle wearing just a bikini. I watched the jiggling impacts on Stacy’s bottom, seeing it turn red and knowing how much it hurt. Maybe most of all, I heard the adorable little whimpers, sighs, murmers and even growls Stacy was making with each swat… Well,my hands drifted toward a part of me that was again in a decidedly non-shrivelled state. 

Woops. My wife noticed. 

“Know what darling? I think you’re enjoying this show a little too much. Why don’t you got sit your hot butt over there on the wall right next to Stacy. And go ahead and sit on your hands… I’d hate for the rough rock to hurt your bottom- that’s my job!”


“Stacey, how are you doing?” Lauren continued, “We’re about half way there.”

“I’m alright. It hurts. Just keep going- get it over with.”

“Oh no no no… You’ve had this fantasy for years- decades even.  Rather than get it over with, we should instead savor it!” Shesaid with mock sweetness dripping from her voice,   “Dusty’s up there- spread your legs a bit, bottom out and brace yourself.  These will be a little stronger.”

And they were. Numbers 15 through 20 were not quite full arm swings, but were clearly tougher for her to take. Stacy’s head was down and she made louder adorable noises with each whack. 

“Get your back down Stace. Arch your back for me. I know they hurt, but you can’t curve your back like that- I don’t want to hit up high. Tell you what, I want you to get your head up and look up at Dusty. That’ll help keep your butt out right. 
Stacy moved her hair out of the way and looked up at me. Without warning, another blow came to her backside, causing her to wince in pain and making her breasts (now completely visible to me) to dance a little wobbly jig of their own.

“Twenty-one”

Stacey looked back at me, but her gaze drifted down… until she saw that non-shrivelled part and looked back up again at my face, smiling and briefly rolling her eyes before scrunching up her face in pain again.  Yes I was sitting on my hands, but the fact that her pretty face was about two feet from that part of me was certainly not helping as my wife had probably hoped. Nor did the lovely view of her arched back and the tops of her bottom cheeks rising up behind her help much either.

“Bet you didn’t have this view back at your Big Sis’s place.” I couldn’t resist adding.

“Ow OW OWW-Eee!”

“Twenty-five; almost there, Stace”

“Bet you never thought you’d- AAwwgrrhah!”

“Twenty-six”

“-get that thing as close to me again after the bathroom! GgGggrr! Mmmmm! Dangit!”

“Took you two swats to think up a comeback and that’s it?” I said with a smile as my wife announced it was twenty-seven and Stacey stood up to rub her butt. (And simultaneously give me another full view of her body!)

“Not so fast sweetie… You need at least one to grow on.” My wife chimed in, pushing her back down, “And what was that about the bathroom?” 

Whack! 

“Mmmmhhmm… That was a good one to grow on. Thank you ma’am!”

“Back down. Stacey? …I suggest you tell me.”

“Nothing. Don’t worr-AAaaah! Oww!”

“Dusty I know how stubborn Stacy can be. Why don’t you do the chivalrous thing and tell me what’s going on.  I’m not stopping until I find out.” 

Whack!

“Well sweetie you know how you don’t like it when I drip water from wet swimsuits on the carpet?”

Whack!

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Whack!

“I had my swimsuit off when I went in to get the paddle and towels, and Stacey took off her swimsuit to use the bathroom. I had no idea she’d be in there. It was nothing… Really.” I said, genuinely meaning it.

Lauren did not look happy.  In fact, she came over and grabbed a hold of my ear. 

“If it was nothing, why didn’t y’all tell me about it? Join your conspirator. Right there.”

She took awhile getting our butts lined up right next to each other and at the same height. Not gonna lie… I kind of did enjoy our butts touching each other, though I wasn’t going to mention it right then.

“Alright you two… I’m really disappointed in you both.  Here we are playing these [Whack] spanking games and it requires quite a bit of [Whack] trust on the part of us all.”

She interspersed swats to each of us as she spoke, going on about how this had really upset her.    

“Here’s what we’re going to do… twenty-seven more, and I’ll one to each of you, then one on the two cheeks in the middle, then one to the other.”

 And so it went.  These were full force, and we both struggled to take them.  The flaw in her plan was that our middle cheeks got it twice!  Stacy’s adorable little noises were not so little, and both of us cried out in one way or the other at every swat.  Our hands were right next to each other, and at one point Stacey just grabbed a hold of mine.  I realized that this was probably not the greatest of ideas given the reason for our spanking, but in the moment grabbing a hold of each other was what was needed to make it through the ordeal.  She wasn’t bawling, but her eyes were full of tears.  It was so intense we did not even realize immediately that it was over.

“Alright you two… Those are a set of ripe red twin cheeks… I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

I was sent to get the lotion while the two of them talked and made up or did whatever women do after something like that.  I came back and the last bottle of wine was open, but Stacy was still standing as she drank it.  Lauren put lotion on each of us; I sure wasn’t going to volunteer to help!  

Fortunately, it wasn’t awkward. (The wine helped.)  Stacey said that it was definitely more intense than her paddlings in the sorority days, and that once a decade or so was enough.  Hugs all around (after she delicately put her swimsuit on again) and Stacy left out the gate.  Left completely unsaid were my thoughts about what came after the paddlings and her sorority days experimentations.  I guess she could take care of that herself when she got home.  Fortunately for us, we didn’t need to experiment sexually after a spanking.  We knew just what to do.

“Happy Birthday dear.  I’m not mad.  I just don’t want you to try and hide something from me.” She said, with her arms around me, between kisses.

“I’m really truly sorry sweetie.  I should have volunteered that instead of hoping that it just wouldn’t come up.”

“Fortunately, something else has come up and recovered quite nicely, I see.”

“You see? Or you feel?”

“Come on… let’s go inside and finish this.”

That was our euphemism for doing it after a spanking.  Why we needed a euphemism? Don’t know.  Could have just said lets go boink like bunnies.  But it was always “Let’s finish it.”  And we did.





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Angel’s Pre-Punishment Blog


Readers,


Another nice entry from Angel, who will be receiving this punishment…today.


*****

It’s possible the VBB now has some competition in the “naughtiness” department and I am hoping his very nice wife (both of whom wished me well regarding my injury) will allow him to sympathize with my angst and provide me with some advice on how to deal with this anxiety.  And Dana, of course, who is ultimately in charge of comment approval.
Anyway, I am currently in a predicament that was recently, sort of, within my control. But now I’ve been completely stripped of any management of this situation because my Mistress has become indirectly involved and last night She threatened to call Dana – although She insists it wasn’t a threat.  Kevin and I think differently. 
We were at the studio and I was in too much pain and too exhausted to travel.  We both missed our Mistress terribly and when She called to check on us, we put Her on speakerphone.  We were having a great time for about an hour.  She made me forget how tired and horrible I was feeling.  I was supposed to go back to Her apartment but I couldn’t make it.  So, I was very sad. It was really nice that She kept Her little slaves company during their sleepover.  She had us both in hysterics and everything was great for a while.
However, towards the end of the night – I, naturally, made some sort of comment that She deemed inappropriate – even though I was joking. I swear on everything dear to me, I was totally joking.   We were talking about Dana and I (please make note of this – JOKINGLY) told my Mistress that Ms. Dana couldn’t do anything to me or Kevin because she’s not our Mistress. Kevin got a little chuckle out of it – mostly because he knew that was ridiculous and I wasn’t at all serious, but our Mistress did not see the humor.  I’m afraid this might be turning into a Ms. Mona Rogers-ish relationship for me and Kevin. 
Mistress Mona is second in command and now Ms. Dana has her own powers, as well.  This could be good or bad.  This means she could play with Kevin and I if we are good and she is in the mood (and really, has this woman ever NOT been in the mood to spank somebody for some reason or another???) or she can punish us if we are bad and she doesn’t have to request specific permission.  It’s pretty clear she’s been “preapproved” since her last visit to NY.  Perhaps that’s why DN got upset, because I already know this.  I wasn’t joking about a Mistress or Dominant who hasn’t been granted any authority.  Whatever the case, She was mildly offended.
I, umm, don’t think I’m allowed to joke anymore until I get my attitude under control.  Immediately following my little “funny” is when DN said She was strongly considering calling Dana directly.  I suppose the intent of this would be so that there would be no uncertainly on Dana’s part regarding her level of interaction with us.  Ms. Dana is extremely respectful as a Top and highly protocol oriented – so I could see where she might be hesitant to punish one of us (if such a situation were to arise) if she didn’t have distinct permission to do so.
It sounded like DN wanted to make it clear to Dana personally that she has the authority to discipline us when we are in her presence.  Maybe she was thinking Kevin and I would try some kind of trickery and try to keep this information from Dana  However, neither of us would do that because DN would consider that lying by omission – and that is very frowned upon by our Mistress.  I’m sure Dana doesn’t think it’s too great, either.  Kevin hasn’t been spanked for this yet.  But I couldn’t sit down for a very long time after She tricked me into confessing something that I didn’t directly lie about; I just wasn’t exactly forthcoming.  Apparently, not telling IS a lie.
So, yes, I already told Dana that DN has extended Her permission for play/discipline/punishment and of course anything work related.  I hope DN doesn’t think I lied.  But Kevin and I were both frozen in fear at the thought that She might call Dana, anyway. The room went completely silent and Kevin and I looked at each other for a brief second, our faces contorting into expressions of distress before we both began pleading with Her not to.  Kevin is not in trouble with Dana, but now he officially knows he can be, and I saw the blood drain from his face.  At one point DN asked us why we were so quiet and reminded us “no one had died” and there was no need to be so somber.  Except there kind of is.
Okay, okay – what the hell am I getting at already, you all must be wondering.  Where’s the spanking?  Well, it’s coming.  Literally.  Sunday, the 13th of November: somewhere between 5 and 8pm.  Dana and I had a “play date,” scheduled.  However, I did ask her if we could incorporate actual discipline into the session as I am truly having a problem with letting my emotions dictate my behavior – my injury was actually partially the result of an angry outburst.  No one got hurt but me, don’t worry.  Beyond that I really felt awful that I had upset my Mistress and was not entirely feeling deserving of a perfectly enjoyable session – especially because Dana’s visit had a little something to do with DN not wearing out my bottom the week of the transgression, which would have made it impossible for me to interact with Dana, considering how hard my Mistress was intending to spank me.
I was pretty honest with Dana, and I certainly didn’t have to twist her arm to get her agree to some true domestic discipline for real-life infractions.  However, because I had suggested it myself – I assumed I’d have some liberties to adjust the session if necessary: i.e. if Dana starts spanking me too hard or in ways that I particularly dislike, mercy would be granted easily and << I >> could determine the level of discipline I didn’t want to surpass for either physical or psychological reasons.
However, this has all dramatically shifted and this is how it happened:
DN and I were resting in bed.  She was so nice and loving to me despite everything – I imagine it’s because She very much knows how much I love and adore Her, despite my childish and bratty behavior at times.  We spoke about a lot of things, including being “accountable.”  I told Her that I was honest with Dana and requested some discipline for my poor behavior.  DN was very on-board with this idea, and while I certainly didn’t think She’d have any objections –  I wasn’t exactly expecting it to go much further than that.  I was wrong.
“What is Dana going to do to you for acting like this?” DN asked me.
I suddenly felt afraid and honestly told her I was completely clueless.   I have no idea what Dana is going to do to me.  What I do know is that not only did DN tell me I was to let Dana know she had her full consent to actually PUNISH me (yes She used the bad scary word), but that also I was to give Dana a list outlining the specific ways I dislike being spanked.  This goes without saying (although I’m pretty sure DN actually did say it) that she wants Dana to know to best way punish me if this is something she wants to take on during our scene – and now that she has the necessary go-ahead; I can’t really see her declining.  This is very bad.   While I completely trust Dana, I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I really have no control now.  I felt this the moment Dana turned her suggestion that I send her the list (after an entire paragraph rambling and whining about it) into a pretty clear directive: “Angel.  Send me the list.  Now please.”  I guess that settled it, although I won’t lie and say I wasn’t curious to know what she would have done if I had “forgot” to send it or just told her “No.  I don’t want to.” I don’t really think she gets mad, but that would probably qualify as an #introuble. (Sorry – twitter withdrawal.  DN punished me from twitter and this is the only way I can get my fix) So, Dana has the list.  But I’m mad that she made me send it to her.  I’m mad that my Mistress got involved and now I have no control over the situation. I’m mad that I can’t change my mind. Yes, I am mad.
I am also utterly conflicted.  There’s an extremely genuine part of me that cries out to be punished and repent and receive the imparted lesson with a willing spirit and heart, and of course I could use the therapeutic effects that occur from a punishment both during and after the experience.  I also know that my Mistress would appreciate it and that maybe it would afford me a little extra forgiveness and possibly getting twitter back by accepting to be “accountable”.  And if the spanking is aversive enough to help me control my behavior – it’s not something I should resist for the sake of my health, sanity and relationships.
However, as much as I hate to admit this – there is a rebellious part of me that wants nothing to do with it.  The spirit of rebellion grew more “spirited” once my Mistress told me to tell Dana she could punish me for my overflowing inability to control my emotions and attitude – if that is something she feels comfortable doing.  And the rebellion secretly skyrocketed after I had to send Dana the “list.”  I don’t think any more honesty can hurt me at this point. 
So I am really having very contradictory attitudes towards this experience.  I am excited about seeing Dana, very excited. And I am more than intrigued to know what it might be like to actually be punished by her in a serious way for behaviors that actually need to be punished because they are dramatically affecting my life. But I could totally live with that curiosity going unfulfilled as I’m also somewhat terrified because I know Dana knows exactly what she is doing – which won’t be good for me in the moment, but will be once it’s over. It’s really the “moment” I am worried about.  I am afraid she will utilize the list and I am even more afraid that I might have a poor reaction to this.  I’m sure she can handle it, but I might not be able to handle it if I don’t get what I want. 
However, I have a strong feeling one way or another it will end with me in remorseful tears after ultimately being spanked into submission and repentance.  Obviously, we’ll keep you posted.
True Brat, aka, Angel


(More from Angel at littleprincessofpain.wordpress.com)
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘When I get Older’

Sung to the tune of ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’ by the Beatles, this ‘song’ tickles me to no end for it’s fun style and thoughtful rhyming. Many thanks to the songwriter for his entry in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest.

*****

Stairlift is broken, zimmer frame too
Many years from now
Will you still be sending us for corner time
Birthday spankings, hearing us whine

If you have spanked us, over your knee
Will we ask for more
Smacks they are slowing, but bottoms still glowing.
When your sixty four


You’ll be older soon,
And if you say the word,
We will thank you too..
Keeping the paddle, handy to see
No holes barred and Cane
You can make us shiver almost any time
Tell us when we step out of line

Sitting at dinner, wiggling around
Coz our butts are sore
Joints they are creaking
Its Advil your seeking
When your sixty four.

Looking at wheelchairs, feeling the cold
Sitting by the fire
Memories of spankings past, forever on line
Making sure we get home on time

Have a great birthday, presents galore
You should ask for more
Will you still meet us,
remember to beat us.
When your sixty four..

*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Story: ‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’


 Readers,


Here is another excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, and another reason why I wish that I could award each entrant with a ‘prize’ all his/her own. Enjoy.


– Dana

*****

‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’

Michael clicked on his favourites… KTO, and the page appeared..
And there she was, this stunning, beautiful 38 year old lady, standing holding the cane, about to spank the man on the bed, his bottom already red..
He checked what was new.. then went to the Trust post, his answer was still there.. How had he written that? What had caused him to blurt out the secret that he had kept inside?
Was it her face? Was it how, on a video clip, she had started to break the blood vessels on a cute bottom, and started on something else?

He scrolled down to the videos clips..
Which ones would he watch today? Before the Party, After the Party, he saw that red top, that pencil skirt…His Spanking one and two…Product testing, so close to his fantasies, Yet not his ultimate fantasy..
He clicked on the play button and closed his eyes… the audio came through his headphones, and he relaxed, letting what he knew would happen take effect..
Smack after smack after smack rained down on his bottom… he could hear her words, soothing, punctuated by a deep breath, a stop that, stop kicking, I’ve had it with the wiggling..
He felt every smack on his bottom, odd numbers, even numbers, the same side, a different side
Then another sound, the tawse, then a long, thin, wooden paddle.. He could feel them on his bottom.. feel the warmth building…how would they feel in real life?
How would he cope with that? The paddling, The No Holes Barred?
Would he hold his breath when commanded to? Could he stop himself saying yellow? 

Then Michael ended with Product Testing, and the warmth flowed through him..

He opened his eyes, and saw the time.. He switched off the internet, ran the history clearer, and went for a shower. The phone rang
Good afternoon Mr XXXX, your taxi has arrived..

Be right there, Michael said, and put on his suit jacket.. looked at himself in the mirror, checked his keys, and wallet, and card key, and closed the door. 
He walked through reception, smiled at the lady behind the desk, and stepped out into the heat, then got in the taxi waiting outside..

This address, said Michael..
Going anywhere nice, said the taxi driver,
Yes.. said Michael, I am going to get my birthday present to myself.
They stopped at the address, he paid the driver, and walked up the path.
Dana opened the door… 
Your late for your birthday spanking, she said.. not a good start young man, she said tapping her cane.


I walked through the door…
*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Story: ‘Close to Home’

A very well-written (slightly edited for somewhat naughty content) entry for the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, ‘Close to Home’ is further proof of the creativity of the readers and contributors to this blog. Thank you.


– Dana

*****

‘Close to Home’


Chapter 1

“Gggrrruuuunnnh…”

Wow that hurt!  I was really struggling, and stood up breathing fast but deeply. I turned around to look at her. 

“C’mon John… You can take one more. Let’s get you to ‘six of the best’ …you’ve taken it so well… remember when you were only going to try for three?  If you took those extra two you may as well make it to six, right?” 

Dana gave me that cute impish smile of hers.   “Do it for me. Back down you go. One more. Remember- widen your stance a little and get your back down… I like to see all of you.”

So back down I went, and she lifted my shirt tail up on my back again, caressing me as she did so. 

Our “session” was over, and this had started off as a light hearted before-you-leave-you’ve-got-to-try-the-cane-just-a little-to-get-the-full-DanaKane-experience thing. But it had grown from there. I felt like I truly was at the edge of my limits. I was wrong, but first there was the matter of that last stroke. 

“Get ready John. This one’s going to hurt.”

Really? I couldn’t have gues –AAAAHH OWwww…OH Fu… Holy Mother of… Sonuva… That REALLY hurt. So bad that I didn’t stand up but just collapsed on the bed. 

Dana came over to comfort me, rubbing my back and the welts on my rear.  Also some mischievous pinching and poking at those welts.  We talked about the marks a bit, and she asked how this compared to both my expectations of our session and to playdates when I was the one spanking ladies. Gradually, I composed myself. (The view of her legs in that skirt combined with the way she was sitting helped a little.) Dana explained how proud she was of me, especially for a newbie.  

My butt was still throbbing, but soon I was feeling elated. I got up from the bed and started walking around the room- strangely excited. I’d done it!  I took my first ever spanking, and then took six of the best on top of that! 

I went over to Dana and we shared a genuine hug. My arms were wrapped around her, and hers around me, when she slid her hand down and grabbed my still sore rear end and gave it a squeeze. ***

“John there’s still one last matter we need to take care of. I don’t want you to miss out on your birthday spanking.”

Gulp. Remove hand quickly…I thought she’d forgotten about that. Time to backtrack… “That’s okay Dana. Pretty sure I’ve had enough, and besides, I was just joking in those emails. Remember I even offered to give you your birthday spanking too!  Cause our birthdays were so close together, it was kinda funny. HaHa…I was really just trying to be funny…joking… thanks for offering, but maybe you’ll be back in Houston this time next year. Besides, I know my time’s up and know your time is valuable.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t forget, but was going to let it go until just now.  Seems like you’re still plenty fiesty. I’d be remiss if I didn’t correct that, and besides, John, who else is going to give you a birthday spanking?  It’s something I want to do. Think of it as my little birthday present to you!”

“Only thing is…” she started unbuttoning my shirt, “birthday spankings I think are best received by those in their birthday suits! Now finish stripping down, all the way. Fold your clothes and stand at attention when you’re done.  I’ll be right back.”

*****
 I could hear her rustling around in her implement bag.  She returned carrying a large but fairly thin wooden paddle, and laid it down on the table before coming up to me. 

***** 

“Now, bend over again. Not all the way down on your elbows this time- just your hands. Stick your butt out some more.” 

I heard the rattle as she picked up the paddle from the table. I thought about protesting once more, I felt great, but was afraid my rear would look like raw hamburger meat after 36 paddle swats. Oh well, I was along for the ride and gripped the covers tightly in my hands. 
She placed one hand on my back, and I could feel the wooden paddle rubbing both cheeks. 

“Count these out for me, birthday boy”

Pop! 

The first one was frankly not as hard as I’d braced myself for- more than a tap, but not a full thwack or swat as I’d expected.

“One”

Hey, I think I can take this, I thought to myself. They stung, but weren’t so bad…

“Fourteen!”

Starting to sting a lot. Was it my imagination or were the getting a little harder?

POP!

“Fifteen”

“You know I don’t get into the whole ‘thank you mistress’ bit, but I think you should make more of an effort than just counting the number- vary it if you want to.”

Smack!

“Sixteen. Thank you Dana.” Yes, these were definitely getting harder…

“Aaah… Twenty-one. ‘preciate it ma’am.”

My butt was on fire. The whole thing. I couldn’t even tell where each swat landed…OH! Never-mind…Yeah, I could. 

“Thirty-four, oh please…Dana”

Almost there, just hang on tight…

Whack!

“Thirty-five, I’ll always remember my thirty-fifth birthday thank you!”

“And one to grow on…”

“Ooof! Thank you. Thank you Dana!”

Whack!

“Hey?!”

“Well I’m not sure if I’ll be here again next year this time so…”

Whack!

“…thought I should cover next year too!”

Whack!

“You forgot to count. We’re on two.”

“Two. Thank you.”

They went on. Each one a real paddle swat now, and I struggled to maintain my composure. The worst was having to vocalize- the number was now preceded by unintelligble groans. 

“Grrrr ah ah twenty-two thank you”

Splat!

“Owow no please please twenty three ma’am.”

This went on and about midway through the twenties I could feel my vision blurring… closed my eyes and felt a tear trickle down my cheek. That actually helped my resolve.  Well, at least for a couple more until once again I was at the point of losing it. 

“No OWw oh… That one really… Ow. Thirty one. Thanks”

“I know it hurts John. It’s supposed to. But you’re doing so well taking it. I’m not going to go easy on these last few.”

As she said this, she laid the paddle down and rubbed my butt. At one point her hand teased my crack. In spite of the pain it still sent another kind of jolt through me. 

“Let’s finish up. I know it hurts. It’s okay to let go.”

CRACK!

“Aaaaah!! Thirty…thirty something uhm.. Ma’am.” 

“That was thirty two dear. And now again…”

CRACK!

I was immediately right back where I was before the break, if not worse. My voice was cracking with each attempt to count, and the tears were flowing. My bottom was covered in flames. 

“Haaarrnnggh! Ungh ah ah thirty.. Thirty four ma’am”

WHAACK!!

“Aaaahhh Nnngguhh No ahhh.. THIRTY-FIVE MA’AM!!”

I did let go at that point and just collapsed. One to grow on was thankfully just a tap as Dana recognized that I had truly reached my limit. Again the comforting. This time she brought out a bottle of lotion and soothed my burning cheeks. All the emotions from the last time were there, just magnified. When I got up I was flying higher on endorphins than right after taking the cane.

*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Give ’til it Hurts: Spanking for Charity



Readers,


In 2012, I will begin organizing and planning several fundraising ideas to coincide with community events all over the country.


The general idea is a ‘Get a Spanking for Charity’-type fundraising booth at spanking parties (held by groups such as Chicago’s Crimson Moon) where all donations will go directly to an animal charity organization in that group’s local area.  I will not be selling product at these events, and every dollar given will be passed along to the chosen non-profit organization. 


I have always been involved in animal charities, and have had, thus far, a life full of the love of pets I’ve adopted, found, or rescued. There are thousands of worthy places to donate money, and I will make careful choices of the local organizations doing good work. They all need lots of funding, and I cannot imagine a more fun way to help out than Spanking for Charity.


When you’re planning your party schedule and budget for 2012, please remember to put aside a few dollars for what I hope you’ll agree is a worthy cause, and a helluva lot of fun.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry


A really great entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, this untitled story from a contributor who I’ll call ‘Anthony’ is another example of the wonderful imaginations at work in this (and every) contest. Enjoy!
-Dana 
*****

Today was what some would call a “special” day. That’s what they tell you when you’re small as you wait in mind-bending anticipation of the cake that’s larger than your head and the gifts that pile up from friends and family. You see, things are a little different when you’re older. Birthday’s lose the magic that once made them the highlight of the year, right next to Christmas (and if you’re really zealous about egg hunts) Easter. Maybe Halloween if you can tolerate all the candy, but I was more a cookie kinda guy, and you don’t get cookies on Halloween. I did get relentlessly tricked and teased however, which made it my least favorite “holiday.”
Every year past my 21st birthday, things got a little on the depressing side. Nothing to look forward to. I’d past the drinking age long ago and really what was left to look forward to but milestones that come with absolutely no benefit but a 2 digit number that will slowly vanish into another, larger, two digit number. And if you make it to the 3 digits chances are you won’t even remember your own name at that point. No, I didn’t like where this getting older “thing” was headed. 6 grays hairs was enough for me to denounce the celebratory process of aging.
I decided to sit this birthday out. I didn’t thank anyone for the cards, especially not my little sister Jillian who sent me one that said, “Congratulations. You survived another birthday,” with a picture of St. Peter looking distracted. I got mad at my sweet, elderly parents for asking me what kind of gift I wanted. They never stopped believing I was 10. I declined the free drinks my co-workers offered me at “guys night out.” Yeah. This sucked. I even shut off the lights and pretended not to be home when my girlfriend showed up with my favorite ice-cream pie. I guess I forgot to tell her I wasn’t celebrating this year. Not answering the door was my way of hoping she’d get the hint without any face-to-face contact.
That turned out to be a “fail” moment when she texted me to answer the door because she knew I was home. I meant to park around the corner and not in the driveway to avoid that problem, but it’s hard to think of everything when you’re depressed. I didn’t answer the door. I could tell Lisa was insulted, and annoyed. Apparently (from what I see through the peephole, anyway) the ice-cream pie was melting through the box onto what looked like a very expensive and sexy sweater she must have bought for the unwanted occasion. But no one told her to stand there with the pie for 20 minutes and no one told her to buy a new sweater either. And another thing, how was I supposed to foresee her dropping the whole thing onto the porch when she tried to text me for the 37th time? I turned the phone off after a while. Lisa remained knocking at the door for another 10 minutes while I watched TV in the windowless basement with the sound muted. Good thing I never gave that woman a key. Clearly she was not good at taking hints. But surely I could not be held responsible for this.
At least I didn’t think I could be. I went to bed without a guilty conscience. Depression trumps guilt. I woke up feeling relieved I had missed my birthday and turned my phone on to a 30 second straight string of beeps indicating missed calls and messages. No need to check. I knew what they were. “Happy birthday this.” “Happy birthday that” “Damnit Anthony, I’m on the frekin’ porch and I know you’re home! Answer the F’en door!” I guess I started to feel a little bad that I ignored Lisa. But that’s what money’s for and why it’s a darn good thing I’m a good lawyer. I could talk my way out of anything and nobody would be the wiser. I’d buy her a new sweater and maybe some roses because I couldn’t remember the kind of flowers she actually likes. Or, I’d have my secretary do it because I don’t even know where the flower shop is.
I decided that’s what I’d do after I took my shower, not realizing my plans were going to be thwarted, not to mention my entire schedule rearranged. I had taken the day off work to play golf but I never made it to the club. The doorbell rang while I still had my towel wrapped around my waist from the shower. I looked through the peephole to find this very attractive woman in attire befitting a professor or business woman. She had beautiful, silky but short black hair and piercing gray-blue eyes that very nicely complimented her ruby lip gloss. She looked stern in her short black skirt and fancy pumps with a white blouse she wore unbuttoned, revealing a navy shirt underneath. She held a briefcase in her right hand and wore sunglasses on her head.
I was reluctant to answer, but thought I’d get a morning thrill out of answering the door in my towel. I figured she was either trying to sell me a vacuum or bible. What great fun that would be to respond so immodestly. I opened the door with a wide grin on my face. A grin that quickly dissolved when the woman spoke.
“Anthony Rabino?” she asked.

(Don’t forget to click ‘Read More’ below to read the full post.)


“Yeah.” I was a bit taken aback that she knew my name. How did the salespeople do this nowadays? She must have gotten my name and address from google. But then again, if she had, she would have known I don’ t go so far as to pick up a broom and I’m a self-proclaimed atheist. I’m sure that’s all on my facebook or myspace profile somewhere.
“Lady,” I told her, “I’m not buying.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said sweetly. “I’m giving it away.”
I’ll admit I was intrigued, even if she was selling the gospel or a Dyson. I had hoped she wasn’t from Avon, because I’m not really a meterosexual kind of guy. Turns out, she really wasn’t selling anything at all. I invited her in, wondering what was in her briefcase. Actually, she kinda invited herself in and told me there was no need to get dressed when I politely offered to go put some pants on. Now this was getting interesting. She was hot. Total opposite look than Lisa, who had bleached blond hair, brown eyes and only decided to dress sexily on occasions I chose not to celebrate. And you gotta give the woman credit, whatever she was selling or “giving away,” must really be important for her to go to such extreme measures. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to write it off on my enormous tax bill, but hey, charity is charity.
“So….” I asked her, raising my brow to appear as sexy as possible while pushing out my muscles for effect, “Where should we do this, upstairs or downstairs?”
“Oh honey,” she said. “Right here is just fine. I’m not shy. You could even leave the windows open.”
Wow. This was hot. I would have definitely left the windows open if we were in some place like Vegas where, “what happens in Vegas…” well you know where this is going. But I washere in Brooklyn, surrounded by my neighbors who knew I was a hotshot lawyer, not to mention my girlfriend lived practically around the corner. So windows open wasn’t exactly looking like a great idea. I nodded my head in approval to indicate I enjoyed her wild streak, but walked over to close the windows and shut the blinds, regardless.
Halfway to window number one, I was halted in my tracks. The woman stood up and slammed her briefcase onto my couch where she had been seated. “I said you could leave the windows open.” Her tone dripped with something acidic, as if I had personally offended her despite the fact I still had no idea who she was or why she was here. But her sweet voice gone sour was enough for me to withdraw my invitation. “Hey, maybe we could do this some other time, ” I meekly suggested since trying to force out a command didn’t seem possible under the circumstances.
I gathered she noticed my apprehension. She set her briefcase aside and her voice dissolved back into that sweet southern accent. “I didn’t mean to scare you sweetie, why don’t you come on over here. But don’t make me have to tell you a third time not to close the windows.” Suddenly I was feeling nervous, a feeling I hadn’t felt since junior high when I had to look over my shoulder every two minutes wondering who was going to mess with me next. It hardened me I guess. When I became successful I didn’t really care about anyone. I had made it big. Almost overnight I had the looks, and the wealth. That’s all a guy needs really. Maybe it didn’t matter so much if the windows were open. It would be just another victory, and there were plenty more Lisa’s where she came from. Besides, I hadn’t done something this exciting since college. My nervousness had now taken the form of this gripping sexual excitement.
I walked over to the woman and sat beside her. She smiled and asked me if I cared to know her name. I didn’t, but at least I had manners. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry,” I lied. “What is your name, beautiful?”
Maybe it was me, but it seemed she was holding back a scowl when she responded. “Dana,” she said. “Dana Kane.”
“Oh,” I mused. “Like, candyCANE?”
She evidently did not find this amusing. “No, sugar, not like candycane,” she replied. “Cane, like the kind you use to blister someone’s bottom. But with a K.”
I disregarded this completely to avoid the strange sensation of fear that gripped me as she spoke. “Well,” I instructed, “Let’s just get down to business here.”
“Absolutely,” she replied, sounding as eager as I felt. “Why don’t you take that towel off for me and let me see all your beautiful assets.” This was something I could definitely do. I knew my body was in pretty good shape, even though I was a year older and might have gained a half of pound the past six months from a slowing metabolism. But unless you knew me very intimately, you really couldn’t tell. Also, I was blessed with an appendage I could brag about it.
I dropped the towel, expecting to show Ms. Kane, with a K, my manliness in its most aroused form. Much to my surprise, she was completely uninterested with my front and very curtly told me to turn around. I had a great ass, too, which she commented on. I didn’t mind too much. I’m mostly a “whatever floats your boat” kinda guy.
Asses definitely kept this woman’s ships sailing. “Oh, this is lovely,” she told me while carefully examining the shape of my buttocks and gently running her sharp nails across my flesh, making it oh so deliciously tender. It was difficult for me to contain my urges and I turned around and asked her if she would take something off for me. I took off my entire towel, and so it was only fair. Boy was I excited when she removed her white blouse.
“So sweetheart, are you gonna give me a better view of thos-“
She interrupted me with a sharp declaration and disappointing answer. “No, honey. I’m just taking my blouse off because I get a better swing that way.”
I had no idea what she meant, but something about the way she said it suddenly deflated my ego, among other things.
“You stay put,” she told me as she picked up her briefcase.
“Oh crap,” I thought. “She’s gonna take out the paperwork NOW?” Again, she managed to surprise me as she opened her case to reveal some strange looking items. Some of them I recognized, like a slipper and wooden hairbrush. The others were small paddles made of various materials, things I had never really seen before and certainly never experimented with. I wasn’t sure I wanted to try now, but she really was difficult to resist.
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to conceal my hesitation. Maybe I was too conventional. It was probably a little spice that was missing in my lust-life with Lisa. “So, Dana, I guess you like it kinky?”
“Why don’t you just come on over my lap and find out?” she instructed.
Over her lap? That seemed juvenile. But we had gone this far. Awkwardly, I positioned my body so that my ass was directly in her field of vision, not realizing I was presenting myself as a target. Before I really understood what was happening, she gripped me in some kind of leg vice so that I couldn’t kick or struggle out of her grasp. “In answer to your question, Anthony, I don’t like it kinky. I like it red and raw. Black and blue. Welted and occasionally bloody.” She emphasized this with a series of smacks to my bottom with a hand that felt to be made of more than just flesh and bones. I had no chance to protest as the slaps reigned down upon my backside, lighting it up with tiny fires just beneath the surface of my rapidly glowing skin and rendering me helpless and without the ability to defend myself.
I had been spanked once as a child. One single, solid smack to the seat of my trousers when I was about three. My mother had been so horrified by my sad expression that she never bothered to do it again, and I rubbed my slightly stingy little booty all the way to the toy store, bakery and my favorite burger joint immediately after.
When the pain started to intensify to the point where it was becoming unendurable, I found myself blurting out, “Look, Dana, this is really not my idea of foreplay. Why don’t we go upstairs and mess around, I’ve got an amazing king-size bed.” In hindsight I should have known better. My suggestion was met with a parade of hand-spanks that had me grunting and screaming in silence.
“That’s Ms. Kane to you from now on,” Dana sternly informed me as I stared dumbfounded at my beige carpet as it was all I could see from this position, that and Ms. Kane’s extraordinary legs and the black heels. She had taken pause but the burning hadn’t. My ass felt like someone had heated up a frying pan and placed it there for fun. I didn’t understand what this woman was doing, but this strict female authoritarian role-play was not my style. If I never knew it before, I knew it now. I was not one of those who relished pain or used it as a means to arousal. Where my member might have been a little perky from the first smack or two, it was now dejectedly limp.
Dana placed her spanking hand on my lower back; it must have been as hot as my ass because it felt like a medicated heat wrap. “Why do you think I’m here Mr. Rabino?” she questioned, as seriously as if she actually expected I should know the answer, which clearly I did not.
“Is it to sell a bible or a vacuum cleaner?” I asked, almost innocently, because she most certainly wasn’t here for a fling.
I didn’t expect that to earn such a stinger, but it did. She cracked me right in the middle of my already sore ass, eliciting a genuine cry of pain. “No, Mr. Rabino. People don’t come to your door to SELL bibles, and it’s been a long time since they’ve gone door to door selling vacuums. I definitely do not do either. I am a business woman however, and today I’m handing out free samples. And I can tell you that this is not a random encounter, and that the only part of me you will be touching is my lap as you lay across it. Is that understood?”
“Uh, not really,” instinct compelled me to reply. I didn’t have time to rethink this as the words had already flown out of my mouth, and no sooner had they done so that my backside was being furiously assaulted by a bionic hand. The muscles in my legs ached to twitch, but they were immobilized and contained in this leg-lock which I had never before experienced. My mind told me that I could overpower this woman, but my legs refused to have anything to do with it. “Oh my God, Dan- Ms. Kane, please stop. I don’t know why you’re doing this but please stop.” The distressful pleas were genuine. I had never felt such an unrelenting pain in all my life.
I thought it was over when she stopped for another second. But she only stopped to reach for the hairbrush, followed by the slipper. As the blows cascaded upon my fired up buttocks, I was filled with a sense of dread. Who was this woman? Why was she doing this? And, Oh my God, the windows are open, anyone coming past the house can hear her hitting me! The horror of that last thought was enough to halt my brain from registering the pain for a moment.
But the moment did not last. Ms. Kane continued to batter my glowing cheeks with every weapon she had in that briefcase. Manly pride reared up and insisted I not cry, but it also rebelled against my desire to attempt to escape. I was able to voice my concern about the window when I noticed that the smacks and corresponding yelps carried a serious echo. “Please, Ms. Kane.The windows. Everyone can hear you, us, this.”
“Oh yes, I know,” she told me in a very strict matter-of-fact tone. “That’s the point. I want your cries to make their way all the way over to Lisa’s house where she is on her couch sobbing, recovering from how miserably you treated her on your birthday.”
“You know Lisa?” I gasped, in between rapid strokes with the sole of her slipper.
“I know Lisa” she said, and then came the soft-spoken, swift but very stern lecture that occurred with just a mild raising of the voice to emphasis certain flaws in my personality. Selfish.SMACK. Cruel. SMACK. Egotistical. SMACK. Poor excuse for a boyfriend. SMACK. Ungrateful. SMACK. After these choice words and the application of some sort of paddle, my free hand defied my better judgment and extended itself in a furious panic to try to interfere with Dana’s punishing implement. This was an unwise move and that free hand was soon locked behind me with her non-spanking hand. This gave Ms. Kane the opportunity to strike my thighs since I was in no position to resist. Thankfully she had put the paddle to rest and used her hand to deliver some very serious whacks to my tender flesh. This was more painful than I could have imagined and the worst was certainly not over.
My mind was still reeling with the knowledge that Ms. Kane had somehow found her way here because of Lisa, although I still didn’t understand the connection between the two. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was atoning for the horrible way that I had treated Lisa, which had not at all mattered until the words were being beaten into me while I lay face down over a stranger’s lap, unable to move a muscle to protect my body or my psyche. I was now a little shaky, and pleading loudly despite the open windows. My cries for mercy didn’t absolve me, instead they earned me a signature spanking with a portable cane small enough to fit in Dana’s cleverly disguised case for all-things-spanking.
It didn’t take much before I betrayed myself and the floodgates opened. I had entered into some sort of private confessional with this woman, spewing out random fears and incidents of pain that existed in my past that led me to behave so improperly as an adult. While Ms. Kane assured me, between my sobs and strokes of the cane, that she understood and appreciated my honesty, she also told me this was not an excuse to treat the people that cared about me with such great disrespect.
She was here, she said, to teach me that excuses never serve anyone in the end. So what that I hated birthdays? I was lucky to have someone who truly loved me to share one with, who brought me an ice-cream pie wearing a brand new sweater. I had parents who still wanted to keep the magic alive for me, who taught me that you are only as young as you feel. I had friends who cared enough to take me out to dinner, on their tab. And I had sister who wanted to show me not to take life so seriously, to find the humor in the occasion. I was looking at everything backwards the whole time but was unable to see it until having my bottom blistered by this beautiful, fascinating woman who could wear your backside out long before she wore out her hand spanking it.
I remained over her lap quite a while, long after the spanking was over, crying like any small child would after having been soundly punished for being incorrigible. Ms. Kane consoled me with her words, gave me instructions to call Lisa once I had composed myself and reminded me that any day can be a “special” day, and maybe birthdays weren’t so bad in hindsight.Although I’m sure I had a few extra gray hairs after having endured the hiding of my life from a woman I would later learn prides herself on being a real-life disciplinarian, a martinet of justice who travels the country in search of wayward boys to reign them back into obedience with the good ol’ fashioned rod of correction. Come to think of it, maybe she was selling the bible after all.

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

Dana Kane, by RedRump


Readers,

Please indulge me in a bit of crowing:

I received this beautiful piece of custom artwork from RedRump, and am just beyond complimented that he’s taken the time to create something in my likeness.

I’ll be enlarging and framing this wonderful stroking of my ego, and placing it in my playroom.

– Dana

(Thanks again, RR. I am continually amazed at your creativity.)

PS. For those of you not yet familiar with RedRump, visit his blogsite HERE. 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Posted on

My Birthday Spanking Story Contest Winner



Readers,


This was a particularly enjoyable contest, as the entries are all so varied and unique. I am certain that you will enjoy them as much as I have. 


I must issue my usual disclaimer that choosing one winner for these little contests is extremely difficult. There were nearly two dozen individual submissions to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, and each author made a genuine effort at excellence. (Entrants: I am, as always, pleased and thoroughly humbled at your willingness to share your talents with me and the readers of my blog. Without your contributions, it would be a much less interesting place.)


And the winner is:


‘A Shared Experience’

*****




My Birthday Spanking
or
A Shared Experience

Birthdays at work were best avoided, Tim always thought.  He couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed the vapid birthday card messages less than the soul-destroying lunchtime cupcakes, but he would have been much happier with neither. In fact, this was the first time in three years that he hadn’t taken a personal day.  But Zoe had an important paper due; she didn’t want him mooching around the house and spilling coffee grounds in the kitchen drawers.

It wasn’t all bad. Birthdays meant casual dress, so Tim was in jeans and a t-shirt, and not sweating in a suit like everyone else. And there had been the text message from Zoe at about 2 pm: “Hope the birthday police aren’t making you wear a silly hat. Just think about what you’ve got coming to you when you get home… xZx”

Always pretty adventurous in the bedroom, the couple had played with spanking since the beginning of their relationship.  But it was only about a year ago that Tim had admitted that his interest wasn’t quite as casual as his early nonchalant suggestions might have implied.  It had led to a tense few weeks. Zoe couldn’t quite shake the notion that Tim had been dishonest about how consuming his interest in spanking was. And Tim’s suggestion that they might be able to incorporate discipline into their daily or weekly routine felt to her like a selfish demand. (His subsequent suggestion that Zoe might want to spank him for this selfishness had proven to be mistimed and misguided.)

Some horse-trading had followed – spankings for massages, spankings for tidying, spankings for just-about-anything-Tim-could-think-of.  But misfiring expectations, promised spankings forgotten, and a lack of common ground on this one issue had put a real strain on their relationship. Tim couldn’t fault Zoe’s openness, willingness to experiment, lack of judgement, or general wonderfulness. Just being able to talk about spanking openly was a huge relief, and a huge excitement. But some people just didn’t have the same wiring as others, he realized, and for Zoe spanking him was always going to be something she could enjoy because he did. It was a generous motivation of course. But no matter how many times and how many ways Tim tried to explain that he wanted real discipline and real accountability, to Zoe it was still a game – a fantasy to be enjoyed and role-played.

And so they’d settled on a sort-of unspoken compromise. Spanking was a regular and enjoyable part of their lives; and although it occasionally came with the hint of admonishment for real-life transgressions, it was usually requested by Tim, or offered as a reward for a completed tax return, an empty dishwasher, or a particularly attentive evening.

Or for a birthday.

(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to see the full story.)


It had been Zoe’s suggestion that Tim should get a birthday spanking when he got home from work. She’d reminded him of it as he left in the morning, and sent the text message later in the day.  Tim loved it on the occasions that she did take control and initiate, and he was a bundle of nervous excitement all the way home on the subway. Would she be waiting, hairbrush in hand, when he came through the door? He hoped so. More often, a promised spanking would happen later, before bed, or even be forgotten. It wasn’t that Zoe was thoughtless – far from it – but simply that spanking would never be at the forefront of her mind in the way it always was for Tim.

Tim climbed the stairs to their second floor apartment and unlocked the door. Suddenly he heard a burst of laughter from inside the apartment.  He stepped in, and his heart sank. Zoe was sitting on the sofa, with some of her books open in front of her, and a cup of coffee. Sitting opposite her was another woman, someone Tim didn’t know.  They’d been chatting and laughing, and looked up when Tim came through the door.

It wasn’t that unusual for Zoe to have study partners over during the day, especially when she was working on an assignment. She was two years into her PhD now, and worked with a diverse group of people, not all of whom Tim had met. But this wasn’t exactly how Tim had hoped this evening would go. 

“Hi birthday boy,” smiled Zoe, standing up and kissing him briefly, “this is my friend Dana.” She gestured to the other woman, who remained sitting but extended her right hand. Tim reached forward and shook it. She was a few years older than Zoe, but she had the same high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. She also had a remarkably firm handshake, Tim noticed in passing.

“Hi Dana, nice to meet you,” he said, without really hiding his disappointment. As usual, he had let his expectations run riot, but it was his birthday after all. Didn’t he have a right to expect Zoe to prioritise his needs today? Was it too much to ask for spanking to be a feature of the evening and not just an afterthought? He could tell that this was going to make him grumpy for the rest of the night.  By the time this Dana finally left and Zoe finished her paper, it would be a few cursory whacks rather than a proper session. Boo.

As these thoughts crossed Tim’s mind, he noticed Zoe and Dana exchange a smile, and he saw Dana give a little nod. He suddenly thought they might almost burst out laughing again – what was so funny? He shrugged it off, and turned to head to the kitchen – maybe a glass of wine would put him in a slightly better mood.

“Not so fast mister,” Zoe said abruptly.

Tim was surprised at her tone of voice. It was playful, and stern, and she didn’t use it that often. “I’m just going to get a drink,” he replied, with a little dismissive laugh, and carried on towards the kitchen.

Her response was lightning quick: “I said not so fast, mister. Don’t get smart with me.”

“Zoe…?” He was looking at Dana apologetically. He didn’t want to fight, and God he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong or what this fight was about. He knew Zoe was very sensitive to his moods, and didn’t like it when he was grumpy. But it certainly wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of a complete stranger. Strangely, Dana didn’t seem at all embarrassed. She was looking straight back at Tim calmly.

“You will look at me when I’m talking to you Tim,” Zoe interrupted. “And don’t think that I’m going to go easy on you just because we’ve got company. I’m not embarrassed, and Dana isn’t embarrassed.”

Tim was definitely embarrassed. He was about to ask what this was all about, but Zoe carried on, fixing him squarely in the eye.

“Shush, no,” she said sharply. “For the rest of this evening I don’t want you answering back, or talking unless Dana or I ask you a direct question.” 

Zoe glanced at Dana quickly, then carried on.

“I’ve had enough of you flouncing around the apartment like a petulant little boy whenever you don’t get your way. From the second you got into the apartment and saw that we had a guest you’ve been pouting,” she continued. “And all because you came home expecting me to do exactly what you wanted and spank you.”

Tim stood dumbfounded. What on earth was Zoe doing? Did she know that her classmate was still here. He looked helplessly at Zoe, then at her friend.  He expected Dana to be horrified; packing up her things quickly to make an embarrassed exit.  But instead she just picked up her cup of coffee and took a slow sip.

“Zoe said you should look at her when she’s talking to you Tim,” Dana offered with a smile. Her voice was firm, but not angry or loud. It was compelling.  Still completely confused, and utterly embarrassed, Tim turned back to face his wife.

“Thank you Dana,” said Zoe, in a voice which meant business. “Well then, Tim,” she continued, “you are going to get a spanking, and it’s going to be the hardest and most painful spanking you’ve ever received. And it’s not going to be a spanking because it’s your birthday, or because you asked for it. It’s going to be a spanking because I am fed up with you behaving like a spoilt child every time you don’t get your way, and making me feel like I’m not doing a good enough job. Do you understand?”

Tim stared blankly at Zoe.

“Do. You. Understand?” She repeated herself slowly.

There was a silence which felt to Tim felt like an hour. In fact it was probably no more than five seconds before Dana spoke next. “Tim, I think you should answer the question. It sounds like you’re in enough trouble as it is, and you don’t want to make things worse for yourself. Do you understand what’s about to happen, and why you’re being punished?”

Tim couldn’t quite believe that this stranger was talking to him like this.  But she was confident and composed, and seemed in no mood to be argued with. Confused, he looked back at Zoe and nodded.

“Good,” said Zoe, folding her arms across her chest. “Since you understand what you’ve done wrong and why I’m about to spank your bottom very hard, I’m going to give you some time to think about your behaviour.  I want you to kneel in that corner,” she instructed, pointing behind him. “I want your nose touching the wall and your hands on your head.”

Tim paused.

“Right NOW mister.” 

The sharpness in Zoe’s voice made Tim jump. He quickly turned around and knelt in the corner of the living room, linking his hands behind his head. He really didn’t know what was going on, but he did know that when the person you loved told you to do something in that tone of voice, you did it right away without asking any more questions.

“And you’ll stay there until I’m ready to begin,” said Zoe. “I’m afraid that the days of doing things to your schedule are long gone, young man.”

Tim heard Zoe sit back on the sofa. Then the two women started chatting, obviously picking up a conversation they had left off when Tim had got home. They were talking about school – Zoe explaining some of the work she was doing for her PhD, and Dana reminiscing about her own university experiences. In fact, they were acting as though Tim wasn’t there at all.

Tim didn’t pay much attention; his mind was racing.  He’d talked to Zoe about being spanked in front of a witness. But he’d talked about a lot of things, and honestly he thought that she didn’t really pay much attention when he was talking about spanking. He felt suddenly ashamed that he’d underestimated how attentive she had actually been in those discussions. She had come so far to meet his often petulant demands and requests, and done so with kindness, good faith and generosity, as she did with all things. And he’d repaid her by increasing his expectations, and making her feel always like she was letting him down.  Almost on the verge of tears, he wasn’t in any doubt now about why he was being punished in this way, or about how real it was.

Eventually, as the hardwood floor was really making its presence known on Tim’s knees, the conversation stopped, and he heard both women stand.

“Right then,” said Zoe. “How do you think we should get started.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to respond to this, until he realized the question hadn’t been intended for him, but for Dana.

“Well some people suggest something like a hand-spanking as a warm up, but I often find that a short sharp shock is a good way to kick things off, especially when dealing with such serious and real issues,” Dana responded.  Tim heard her reaching into a bag, then heard Zoe’s footsteps walking towards the dining room and back again.

A moment later he heard Zoe’s voice.  “Stand up please Tim, and turn around.” She’d resumed her earlier tone, and would clearly brook no argument.

Tim stood and turned around, keeping his hands on his head.  In the middle of the room facing the sofa was a dining chair, and sitting on top of it was a thick leather strap. Tim had seen leather straps in spanking videos on the internet, and had even toyed with the idea of getting one for Zoe, but he didn’t know how she would feel about it. Seeing this implement now – a good eighteen inches long and three wide, with a wooden handle – he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about it either. In the past Zoe had hand spanked him, and occasionally (on his request) tried a hairbrush. Clearly, this was going to be something quite different.

Zoe picked up the strap. “Tim, I’d like you to stand behind the chair, bend over and place both your hands on the seat.”

Contritely, Tim obeyed, flattening his palms on the wooden seat of the chair. He wasn’t hugely flexible and his back arched – he felt a hand push insistently at the base of his spine, and bent further.

“I’m going to start with ten hard licks with Dana’s strap. We’ll see what’s next after that. I want you to keep your hands flat on the chair at all times,” instructed Zoe, “and I want you to raise your head and look straight forwards. Do you understand?”

Tim nodded, and grunted his assent.

“I think ‘Yes Maam’ would be a more appropriate response Tim.” Tim looked up at Dana, who had spoken from her position on the sofa, sitting right in front of Tim and looking him in the eye.

“Um… yes maam,” Tim stuttered looking back at Dana.

“Good,” said Zoe happily. Half a second later Tim felt his bottom explode and heard a huge crack, as Zoe landed the strap squarely on top of his jeans. It was more painful than he could have imagined – an instant, radiating fire.  He jumped up and spun round, looking questioningly, almost pleadingly at his wife.

She was unmoved. “What part of ‘keep your hands flat on the chair’ don’t you understand,” she asked, “or am I somehow not making my point clearly enough?.” She paused and glanced at Dana, then continued.  “Right, this is your first, last and only warning. If you move out of position once more, then we’ll start again from the beginning.” She paused again, looking up at Dana. Dana gave a barely perceptible nod, and Zoe continued. “And if I have to do that, I will pull your pants down and bare your ass. And don’t you dare think that I won’t do it because we have company. I’ve seen it all before and so has Dana. So you had better just try and exercise a little bit of self-control mister. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”

That was pretty clear, Tim felt. When she’d spanked him before, Zoe usually made him take down his pants. But he didn’t think he could deal with the embarrassment of having his bottom bared in front of this stranger, and he didn’t want to think about what that strap might feel like across his naked butt.  He turned around, bent over and muttered “yes ma’am”. He looked up, and met Dana’s eyes. She was smiling broadly now, and she nodded encouragingly at Zoe.

The next lick cracked across Tim’s jeans with the same ferocity as the first. But he’d been expecting it this time, and managed to meet it with only a sharp intake of breath, and a pleading look at Dana. It was just as painful as the first stroke had been. 

The third stroke came about ten seconds later, and Tim was grateful for that short recovery time; he was pretty confident he could get through the remaining licks without moving out of position. He’d barely had time to think that though, when the next four strokes landed one after the other, in an almost immediate rising crescendo of stinging pain. As each lick seared his bottom, Tim felt a tide of rising panic, as he struggled to keep his palms planted on the seat top, and his eyes focused on Dana’s gently mocking smile. He thought that perhaps he was nearly there, when Zoe planted stroke number seven across the top of his thighs. With only a single layer of denim protecting this part of his anatomy, the pain level notched up once more. Instinctively, Tim reached back to protect his legs. He recognized his mistake instantly, and his hand shot back to the seat, but it was too late.

“Right. You were warned about this. It was a lack of self-discipline that got you into this mess in the first place, and that same lack of self-discipline has just landed you in considerably hotter water,” said Zoe. “Stay exactly where you are.”

A second later, he felt her arms reach around from behind him, and start to unbuckle his belt. As Dana looked on impassively, Zoe quickly unbuttoned his jeans.  She reached her hands into his waistband, grabbing a fistful of waistband and white boxer briefs on either side of his hips, and in a single rough motion pulled his jeans and underwear down to the ground, where they sat, bunched forlornly at his feet.

Tim flushed bright red, as he felt the cool air of the a/c on his butt. He was suddenly massively grateful for the high, solid-backed dining chair, which was currently preserving his modesty from Dana. Well at least that was more motivation to stay in position. His modesty wasn’t preserved from his wife though, who was standing behind him, strap in hand, looking happily at his completely exposed ass.

“Starting again then Tim,” she said. “Ten licks with the strap. And we can keep starting from scratch all night if you like.”

Tim bedded his palms into the dining chair seat, and looked up at Dana. He would happily have had the ground swallow him whole at this point. Bent over a dining chair, with his wife whipping his bare ass, and a perfect stranger staring him in the face: it was not how he’d expected this evening to go. But he was beginning to realize that his expectations were a big part of the reason he was here at all. This was happening, whether he liked it or not.

When Zoe swung the strap and connected with his bare bottom, he realized that he was absolutely not going to like it. Not at all. That stroke of the strap across his naked flesh was the single most painful thing he could remember experiencing.  He had absolutely no control over his right hand as it swung around behind him to protect his burning butt.

Zoe stopped, sighed, and looked up at Dana. “What do you think?” she said. “Do I just start again? He’s only had one.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim stuttered. He was grateful at least that he had managed to stay bent over the chair, hiding his nakedness from this woman he’d met less than half-an-hour earlier.

“Clearly not sorry enough,” said Dana. She looked at Zoe, then back at Tim. “You are obviously lacking in self-control nearly as much as you are lacking in respect.” She looked back up at Zoe. “Do you remember that we talked about hands?”

“Oh yes,” replied Zoe, sounding almost relieved. Tim saw her walk around and sit next to Dana on the sofa. She was still holding the formidable strap, and her cheeks were reddened from the exertion of his punishment so far. She looked quite beautiful, Tim thought. “OK Tim, stand up please,” she said firmly.

Tim froze. He felt vulnerable, exposed, nearly naked, and at the moment the chair was the closest thing he had to safety. He gripped the lip of the seat firmly.

“Oh now you can hold onto the seat of the chair can you Tim?”  Then Zoe’s tone turned from gentle mockery to strict instruction: “STAND UP NOW.”

Tim gulped down some air. He stood gingerly, covering himself with his hands.

“Kneel in front of the chair, facing me, with your hands on your head,” Zoe ordered.

Tim looked helplessly from his wife to Dana, then back to his wife. Both women were meeting his gaze squarely. Tim’s head was a mess of conflicting emotions. Yes he had fantasized about being in this situation, but this wasn’t anything like a fantasy. In the past he had always been in control of his own punishments, telling Zoe what to do and say. Being bossy and selfish, he realized. He felt like a fraud. Always claiming to want Zoe to be in control, but really trying to take control himself. Well he wasn’t in control now, and it wasn’t fun at all. But he did deserve it, he knew. He could see how much of a bully he’d been in those situations, and he felt ashamed. The shame of this evening should be the least of his worries.

Meekly he shuffled forwards, his jeans and underwear dragging at his ankles.  He knelt in front of the two women, and placed both his hands on top of his head. Raising his hands hitched his t-shirt up so that the hem was level with his belly button – there was nowhere to hide.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dana, but he did meet Zoe’s gaze. With reddening eyes he said “I’m sorry,” again.

Zoe ignored this apology, and looked down at the strap in her hand. “Hold out your right hand, Tim, with your palm facing upwards.”

Tim was beyond objecting by this point. He loved Zoe utterly, and could never question her right to do this. He also trusted her implicitly, and knew that whatever punishment she chose to administer would be fair and loving. For all his physical discomfort, he felt emotionally safe. He extended his right hand, keeping his left on his head, and flattened his palm.

Zoe flipped the strap over her shoulder, she brought it down smartly across Tim’s palm. It cracked like a gunshot. Tim made a fist as the pain fired up his arm. But he kept his hand forward, and after a second unclenched his fist. Zoe had maintained eye-contact throughout the stroke, and Tim felt compelled to submit to his punishment completely. Without looking away, Zoe delivered two more sharp strokes to Tim’s right palm.

“Other hand please Tim,” Zoe said. Tim obeyed, and received three terrifying and painful strokes on the palm of his left hand. He didn’t need to see his glowing red palm to know how effective they had been. As Zoe delivered the strokes, Tim thought he detected a hint of remorse her eyes. She couldn’t be enjoying this really, he thought. He suddenly had an image, of two people engaged in a ritual – neither getting any real pleasure from it, but both aware of its utter necessity. 

“OK, let’s see if we can get through those first ten licks,” said Zoe. “Back on your feet and over the back of the chair. And you can step out of those jeans and undies – you’re not going to be needing them for the rest of this evening. Shoes and socks off too, please.”

Tim obeyed. He stood, shuffling off his sneakers and stepping out of his bunched clothes. 

“You can fold them neatly and put them on the side table,” Zoe said kindly. 

Tim knelt and picked up his jeans. He shook them out and folded them neatly, placing his white jersey underwear on top. He carried them past Dana and placed them on the side table. Remembering his socks, he bent awkwardly to slip them off one at a time, before adding them to the pile.

“And you can bend over facing the other way this time, Tim,” she added. “I still want your hands flat on the seat, but I think Dana deserves to have a better view of your naughty butt.”

Tim didn’t even try to cover his modesty as he walked back to the chair, turned to face away from the two women, and bent over. A moment later he heard movement behind him. The anticipation was agonizing; it was almost worse than the actual punishment. 

Almost. The first of the ten strokes landed across his butt with a heavy, thudding crack. Then the second, and the third. After each stroke, the strap followed through, sliding across his red tender ass – it felt as though his skin was being stripped off a layer at a time. At the sixth stroke, he let out a gasping sob. He couldn’t see behind him, but if this provoked any sympathy in Zoe, she didn’t let it affect her right arm.  The last four strokes fell as hard as the first six, striping his butt and the top of his thighs a bright, livid scarlet. And by the time the tenth stroke fell, he was crying freely.

He could hear Zoe behind him, her breathing heavy from her effort. His mind was clearer now, his confusion and defiance scoured clean by the fire in his bottom and legs. He stayed still, not wanting to risk a repeat performance by moving before he was told to.

There was a long pause. “What was next?” he heard Zoe ask quietly.

“Well that took a bit longer than expected didn’t it.” That was Dana’s cool voice. “But I think he’s getting the idea now,” she continued. “I suggest we skip straight to the brush.”

Tim was actually relieved to hear this. He’d known there would probably be more to come, but he was at least on familiar territory with the hairbrush. Zoe had used her square, flat-backed plastic hairbrush to spank him in the past, and while it hurt more than her hand it wasn’t really all that painful. Certainly nothing like the agony of the strap she had just wielded.

“In the same position?”

“I think you can put him over your knee and really teach him a lesson actually, don’t you,” Dana responded.

“Stand up please Tim,” Zoe said.

Tim was happy to be back into a slightly more familiar routine. He stood and turned around, ready to lay across his wife’s lap. As soon as he did, his heart sank into his bare feet. Dana’s bag was open, and she had handed Zoe the ‘brush’. This was not his wife’s small plastic-backed hairbrush. In her hands, Zoe now held a wooden bathbrush. It was probably a foot and a half long, and made of heavy-looking wood almost an inch thick. It had a long tapered handle which opened out to an oval head about five inches long and three wide. One side of the head was covered with stiff bristles, betraying the brush’s intended purpose. It was the other side Tim was more worried about – a pancake-flat wooden surface, once polished but now worn, presumably through firm application to naughty bottoms. Like his.

Zoe weighed the brush in her hand, swatting it a few times against her left palm. From the way it moved, Tim could tell it was heavy. He couldn’t imagine what it might feel like thudding into his already sore, and naked ass, but he suspected he was about to find out.

Zoe walked towards him. She clicked her fingers and pointed to her left. Tim stepped to one side, and Zoe turned and sat in the dining chair, straightening her skirt. She looked up to her right, fixing Tim in the eye and clicked her fingers again, this time pointing at her lap. Tim knew what this meant, but hesitated.

“Get over my knee young man,” said Zoe sternly, and without giving him time to comply, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards and across her. Tim tripped on Zoe’s thigh, and he fell forwards quickly, putting both hands out to stop himself on the floor. He landed in what he imagined would be the ideal position for Zoe to administer the awful-looking wooden bathbrush: hands and feet on the floor, and bottom over her lap, pointing skyward.

He felt Zoe’s left hand settle into the small of his back. His t-shirt was bunched up around his armpits, leaving him completely naked from the chest down. She gently rubbed his lower back as she spoke: “Tim I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I know it’s your birthday, and that you were expecting something quite different tonight. But I suppose this is a different sort of birthday present – one that I hope will put an end to some of the uncomfortable tensions and expectations that have been putting a strain on things. Do you agree that after tonight we can move forward in a positive way, and that perhaps you’ll have a different understanding of what getting a spanking means?”

“Yes maam,” Tim replied.

“Good,” said Zoe. “Good boy.” Then without hesitating she raised the bathbrush, and with the full weight of her arm she swatted Tim’s right butt cheek. The head of the brush splatted into the fleshiest part of Tim’s buttock with a heavy thud. Tim cried out in pain. It was like being hit in the ass by a car. The weight of the brush seemed to drive deep into flesh and muscle, and with his cheeks still tender from the strap, the pain was unbearable. Zoe raised the brush again, this time targeting the side of Tim’s ass nearest to her, and again driving home the blow with full force.  This was only two swats, and already Tim was wondering how he would be able to take it, when he heard Dana’s voice.

“Zoe if you use your full weight every time your arm will get tired really quickly,” she instructed. “We want you to be able to keep this up for a good ten minutes. So I want you to try to use the weight of the brush itself.  Hold it closer to the end – that’s it – and then you can flick.  Don’t worry, it will sting just as much.”

“Right, I see,” said Zoe, and tried a couple of swats tentatively – one on each cheek.

“That’s it,” said Dana encouragingly. “Now try to build up a rhythm.”

Zoe did exactly that, flicking the brush in quick, hard swats on each of Tim’s butt cheeks in turn. The first few were almost bearable, but as the unrelenting staccato of Zoe’s strokes continued, the pain in Tim’s butt grew and grew to intolerable levels. It was a pain that crowded Tim’s head, shutting out all other thoughts. He just wanted it to stop. Zoe peppered Tim’s entire bottom and upper thighs with sharp swats. At one point, after she had delivered half a dozen stinging strokes in a row to the same point on the crease of Tim’s right butt cheek, he swung his right hand back to try and stop her. Without breaking her rhythm, Zoe effortlessly caught it in her left, and pinned it firmly in the small of his back. He was now pressed harder into her lap. More helpless than before, he could do nothing but cry as the torrent of spanks continued to make him feel as contrite as he ever had.

After what seemed like an age, and uncountably many swats with the brush, Zoe stopped. He could hear her breathing heavily, and could feel the warmth of her hand, which still pinned his in place. His bottom was on fire. He’d never imagined a spanking could be this painful, and coupled with the humiliation of having the whole thing witnessed by a complete stranger, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to make sure that he wouldn’t find himself in this position again any time soon.

“Up please, Tim, and get your naughty red butt straight back in the corner, kneeling on the ground and with your hands back on your head,” Zoe instructed.

Tim awkwardly maneuvered himself off his wife’s lap. He sort of fell in a heap on the floor, his t-shirt bunched and his bottom a dozen different shades of red and purple. As he struggled to his feet he noticed Dana. She hadn’t moved from her position on the couch all evening, and she was still smiling at him. She took another sip from her cup of coffee.

Tim walked quickly to the corner. His eyes were red, and his nose was running slightly from his crying. He no longer cared who saw what; he simply wanted to obey Zoe’s instructions to the letter. He wanted this punishment over sooner rather than later. He kneeled, linked his hands behind his head, and breathed out for what seemed like the first time in an hour.

“Well done Zoe,” he heard Dana say behind him. “That was excellent. You really took everything on board. I think you’re a natural.”

He heard Zoe laugh before replying, “thank you Dana. This has been a bit of a revelation. I never thought that I really wanted to make spankings real, or about real things. I always thought that was just playing into his hands, and that he was just being more of a brat by asking me to. But he really seemed to be getting the message. And he really seemed not to be enjoying himself. I wonder if it will actually make any difference?”

“Oh I think it probably will,” Dana said. “But just in case, I’m going to leave these with you. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use if you have to.”

Tim knew exactly what ‘these’ were. Kneeling in the corner, with his incredibly sore bottom on display and tears of shame still in his eyes he couldn’t imagine behaving in a way that would force Zoe to repeat this evening’s punishment. But he knew that it would happen; that his pouty and childish tendencies were still there. He understood them better now, which was probably the first step to being a better, more generous, more thoughtful husband. But it would be a longer journey than one evening, and when he slipped up along the way he knew he would find himself back over his wife’s knee, or bent over a dining chair, as she lit a fire in his ass once again. He resolved to make that as rare an occurrence as possible.

He heard Dana picking up her bag, and finishing the last of her coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zoe open the front door. She hugged Dana, and thanked her again, before seeing her out, and closing and locking the door. Tim was suddenly more nervous than he had been at any point in the evening so far. What was going to happen next? As a couple, they had no vocabulary for this moment – a moment where dynamics were beginning to shift, and where games had blurred into reality. No script.

He was tumbling these thoughts in his mind – trying to work out how to deal with the potential awkwardness of the next few moments, when he felt Zoe’s hand touch his arm, more softly she had all evening.

“Turn around Tim,” she said. Her voice was warm, asking more than instructing. 

Tim turned and looked at his wife. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but he knew he didn’t need to. His tensions melted away, and a fresh wave of tears surged in him. He instantly hugged Zoe, burying his head in her shoulder.

She wrapped both her arms around him and held him tightly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, quietly.

*****



Note:  Every contest, I receive a few entries which I am unable (read:unwilling) to publish. This is always due to content which I have specifically outlined in the contest guidelines as being unacceptable. It pains me a bit to know that a few of you spend a lot of time, energy, and imagination writing these stories which I then cannot publish because you haven’t heeded these simple requests relating to content. 
Yes, it is possible for me to edit your stories, and I sometimes do, but in many instances doing so would simply destroy the narrative and make the remaining pieces impossible to follow. (Also, keep in mind that it is impossible to win the ‘prize’ if I cannot publish your work.)
In the future, please do us all a great favor and stick to the rules…I would love to share each and every submission.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Fantasy and Desire, Part One: F/M Spanking Fiction



Readers,


Here is a sexy little spanking story from one of my wonderful playmates. I am hoping to be able to share much more of his writing in future. Enjoy!


– Dana




Fantasy and Desire, Part One:


Isabella couldn’t believe her eyes at first. Her girlfriend Melissa and she had been friends forever and as such, these comfortable after work wine socials had been going on every Friday evening since college.  When she and Ernie got together and became lovers she never really saw any reason for them to stop.  In fact, Melissa and she both thought Ernie’s presence to their little Friday ritual added to things and he really seemed to enjoy being one of the girls. But tonight she noticed Ernie’s attention really seemed to be drawn to Melissa’s legs, he just could not keep his eyes off them.  Certainly she could understand why. Melissa was coyly wearing a very short red skirt, showing not only a lot of her long sexy legs, but the lacy tops of her stockings and the milky cream white of her smooth thighs were showing as well. Worse she seemed to show more of her legs as each glass of wine worked its relaxing magic. That, among other visual glimpse we won’t mention.  



 Isabella also understood Ernie had always been attracted to sexy legs. It was the one thing that had first drawn them together and Ernie had often mentioned how he could not keep from getting turned on whenever he saw her legs crossed, in nylons wearing one of her short skirts.  Yes, and she had certainly used his fascination to her advantage more than once. She had noticed how much more attentive his lovemaking was when she had her nylons and garters on. So, seeing his looking at Melissa’s legs, as she exposed herself, really was not surprising, What was surprising was how she, was reacting to it. First, was her surprising twinge of jealousy, she had never thought of herself as the jealous type? Not her, she was sexually uninhibited but here she was actually a little angry by his attention to Melissa’s legs. He was supposed to be looking at her legs. Secondly, *** as she watched him looking, kind of like a voyeur seeing something she wasn’t supposed to. Both of these feeling surprised her and she made a mental note that as soon as Melissa left this evening, Ernie would have some explaining to do and some serious lovemaking to attend to. She was getting turned on. Both by all she was seeing and the thoughts going through her mind as the evening wore on.
Finally Melissa left and Isabella and Ernie were cleaning up when she thought it time to bring things up. “So, I noticed you looking at Melissa’s legs this evening, did you find them attractive?” She asked.  Ernie looked up and quickly averted his eyes, a sure sign he was guilty. “So?” She persisted. “Well, yeah, sort of.” He said. “Sort of?” she asked. “What kind of answer is that?” “You couldn’t keep your eyes off her legs all night.”  She went on. “I thought you liked my legs”. She pouted. “Oh Baby” Ernie cooed. “Of course I like your legs, you stole my heart showing off those sexy legs of yours” he went on. “And you know I would do anything to keep those silky smooth legs and your beautiful self in my life”. “Melissa was just being a bit flirty tonight and really… how could I not look?” Ernie grinned that Cheshire cat grin. “Even you have to admit she has great looking legs.”

“Anything?”  Isabella asked. “What?” Ernie responded.  “You just said you would do anything to keep me and my legs in your life.”  “Did you really mean that?” She asked him. “Really anything or were you just saying that?”  Ernie looked at this sexy little vixen and knew she was leading him some where, but he also knew this woman was the sexiest, most uninhibited woman he had ever met and he would let her take him anywhere a sexual adventure might be in the offing. “Really Honey anything, if it meant keeping you happy and taking care of me.” Ernie said. She looked at him very coyly saying ‘we’ll see’ as she invited him to meet her in the bedroom in 10 minutes, not a moment before. As Ernie waited he couldn’t help but let his mind run in a million directions. Isabella was not only beautiful, she was the sexiest creature he had ever known and he knew her kinky little mind had no bounds ***.
.He had never known a woman who had such complete mastery and control of her sexuality and there was nothing she wasn’t comfortable with. She had certainly taken him on more sexual adventures in their short time together than all the other women he had ever met, combined. And even though some were a bit strange to his way of thinking originally, each in the end had been exciting and sensually engaging. So no matter what she had planned he could only look forward to it with excitement and a minimal amount of trepidation. So pouring them each a glass of wine, Ernie headed for the bedroom with anticipation of a night he would long remember…oh if he only knew.

Entering the bedroom he saw Isabella seated, skirt raised and legs crossed, showing her stocking tops and creamy white thighs, with her back to her dressing table and her oak hairbrush on her lap. “How nice, you brought me a glass of wine,” she noted. “Please bring it to me. You can set it on my dressing table?” She requested as he crossed to her.  As Ernie came to her, placing the wine on the table he toasted “To a memorable night.” Again, if he only knew, and as he drank from his glass, she had already moved ahead and was undoing his pants and pulling them down.  “Whoa” Ernie intoned. “You seem a bit eager?” he asked.  “Well yes.” She smiled back. “I am, but not for what you think my dear man.”  “What do you mean?” He asked beginning to think he was in for another something he had not figured on.  “Well I thought you might have guessed when you came in and saw me sitting here, legs crossed with this hairbrush on my lap.” She went on. “But then you often need to be led to things my dear, don’t you?”  Continuing on she said “You were quite naughty this evening…oh yes quite naughty”. “I saw you looking at Melissa’s legs all evening like a naughty little thirteen year old boy. You couldn’t keep from staring.” She said. “Fortunately Melissa was in one of her ‘it’s all about me’ moments, so of course she didn’t notice, but I certainly did and was not happy about it”.  “I’m sorry.” I said. “Oh are you? Are you really sorry?” she asked.  Looking at me with what could only be viewed as a dominating like look. “Are you sorry enough to admit how naughty you were and accept being punished for it?” “Are you that sorry”? She asked.  “Excuse me?” Ernie stuttered. “Punished?”  “Well of course punished.” She went on in a matter of fact manner. “What else would happen to a naughty boy?” “You simply must be taught a lesson you won’t soon forget and I intend to do just that.”  “Oh and just how do you plan to do that my dear Isabella?” He asked thinking they were playing another of her games. “What, it’s still not obvious?” She asked. “Well let me make it perfectly clear”. She continued. “It is my intention to next pull down your underwear like this, put you over my knee and give you a good sound bare bottom spanking, much like a naughty 13 year old would receive when they think they are too big for their britches, teaching you a lesson you will never forget.” 



And just like that the underwear came down and before he knew it she had pulled him to her side and quicker than he could react to, had him lying face down across her stocking clad lap staring at her lovely legs from a position he would never have imagined and what happened next, well I don’t really think it takes much imagination to see where Isabella, her hand and hairbrush intended to take him. Beginning with her hand she warmed his white little bottom a nice shade of pink, to bright red.  Spank after spank landing on his bare behind. Trying to keep his poise he gritted his teeth and tried to think only of the lovely stocking clad lap he found himself face down across. Finally after a 100 or so sound spanks Bella stopped. And Ernie started to rise. “Now just where do you think you’re going?” Isabella asked holding him down across her lap.  “Please Bella, I’ve learned my lesson, really I have.” Sounding quite like the naughty little boy he had behaved liked. “Really I have.”  Bella rubbed his red bottom with one hand, while picking up the hairbrush with the other. “I’m not quite sure you have my dear, but believe me once you feel the sting of my hairbrush, well then you will have learned”. “Yes, learned and will remember for quite some time”. She softly intoned. And with that the spanking began anew and with a much more rigorous application. Spank after spank, twenty thirty forty, he soon forgot to count, lost in the burning sting only a hairbrush can provide. Squirming, trying to avoid the burning spanks as they rained down, fighting back tears of embarrassment, finally the spanking was over, and she helped him up. As he rose from her lap, rubbing his very well spanked bottom like any naughty boy would, Ernie noticed something else he would never have guessed, he was far more wanton of his sexy woman than he could ever remember. He had to have her, and for her part, she too was already entwined with him, kissing him deeper and more fully. Had they wanted one another before the spanking, they needed one another now. Never had he wanted a woman so bad and not just any woman, no, he wanted this goddess in front of him, wrapped about him, who just moments earlier had spanked him like a very naughty little boy. And Isabella was kissing him with such passion and so, so hot. Before they knew it, they were in the bed and engulfed with a consuming passion neither had ever known. It was to say the least, a night unlike any other, filled with shuddering climaxes and wanton lips.  Was this all caused by a simple act of spanking? What or how, not important but if it were, it certainly bore repeating, at least that was what was going on in sweet Bella’s mind. Oh yes! If a trip over her knee would unlock this kind of passion, poor Ernie was in for quite a few spankings. As for Ernie, well, how many times the hairbrush landed, spanking his bottom a blistering red that evening, he could not keep count of. But one thing was for certain, if he ever looked at another Lady’s legs again, it certainly would be with the memory of this spanking fresh in his mind, that and a thorough scanning to insure that Isabella was not watching.  But would he allow another spanking, well if it led to the passion that evening had brought forward, well I think we all would.  Oh yes… I told you his beautiful Lady was quite unconventional.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Video: A Broken Heart for The VBB

Readers,


I am very pleased to be able to share this snippet of video with you, by request of the Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife.


The very first time I met the VBB, his WW left him in my care. He and I dealt with some serious issues on that one occasion, and he promised to change his behavior in the future.


All of our subsequent playtimes have included the Wonderful Wife – she and I ‘tag-teaming’ him – and all have been nothing but f-u-n.  Even though all of our play has been lighthearted, make no mistake…we play hard. Really hard.


This time was different, though. This time the Wonderful Wife, HoH, determined to request my assistance in dealing with some recent sneaky behavior on the part of the VBB. Of course, I accepted.


First, I count this couple among my most favored playmates, and would be hard-pressed to turn down an invitation from them, whatever the request.


Second (as I explained to the VBB), I am now invested in his process. I was frustrated and disappointed when hearing of his misbehavior and welcomed the opportunity to hold him accountable.


This is just a small part of Punishment Day…and very early on, as evidenced by the lack of damage to his bottom.


Enjoy (we did).


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: Fouettard’s Academy – Part Four : End of Term



Fouettard’s Academy: (4) End of term

The ‘boys’ gathered for session ten with mixed feelings. Not having to spend their Saturdays concentrating on their behaviour, and almost inevitably going home with a sore bottom, was, in many ways, welcome. However, they had actually become rather attached to Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane. Although they were strict, and employed what most people regarded as old-fashioned methods, there was something about them that commanded respect and admiration. The course had been enlightening. They had learned that habits and behaviour that previously they wouldn’t have given a second thought to was unacceptable to women, and it was somehow refreshing to encounter these two strong women who neither ignore their bad behaviour nor nagged them about it but confronted them in a clear and straightforward manner.

However, life had changed even more dramatically in the past week. The ‘wives’ session’ the previous Saturday meant that it wasn’t only on Saturdays that they had to answer for their actions, it was everyday! For two of them, Ernie Wilde and Oliver Dickens, this was especially so, and far from having to wait until the end of the session, they arrived at the Academy with a distinct consciousness of part of their anatomy (and not the part that normally drives mens’ thinking!).

Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane had been looking forward to the session all week, not so much because it was the end of term but more because they were keen to hear whether the work they had done with the wives had been productive. In some cases they were pretty confident but with others they wondered whether, back home in a one-to-one situation, the wives’ new-found assertiveness might have wavered. 

The early signs were good. Several of the men seemed considerably quieter and more reflective than usual, and the women sensed a mood of anxiety and compliance that they had not witnessed previously. As soon as everyone was assembled and settled Mrs Armstrong began. “I hope you’ve all had a good week. Ms Kane and I are looking forward to hearing your reports.”

No sooner had she started than Ernie Wilde raised his arm aloft. “Yes, Wilde, what is it?”

“Please Ma’am, I was just wondering, if matters… how shall I say… have been dealt with at home, do we still need to report them to you? I mean, it wouldn’t be very fair for us to be punished twice.”

Knowing smiles spread across the faces of the two women. Mrs Armstrong turned to her colleague. “Ms Kane, what do you think? Would it be fair for us to punish a naughty boy who’s already been punished?”
Of course they had already considered this issue as part of their preparation for the session. “Well, Mrs Armstrong, it seems to me it very much depends on the behaviour in question and whether we consider the punishment has been sufficient.”







“I have a good idea why you’re asking that question, Wilde,” said Mrs Armstrong. “I’ve just read a very interesting report from your wife. So let’s start with you and see if your version of events tallies.”

The boy stood up and began his account. “Caroline told me last weekend that from now on she will be keeping a tally of everything I do wrong and on Friday evenings it will be payback time. I didn’t realise she would be including even the tiniest thing wrong, like when I didn’t answer her quickly enough. On Tuesday I left some dirty socks on the bedroom floor, and she also told me to run the dishwasher next morning, which I forgot to do. On Wednesday she said she’d noticed that the car was very dirty and that I’d been negligent to let it get so bad. On Thursday there was…. oh, I can’t remember now. Really, Ma’am it’s been tough going. She’s picked on every little thing.” Wilde paused, but if he thought he was going to get a sympathetic word from Mrs Armstrong he was mistaken.

“Probably not before time unless I’m very much mistaken, which is not something I’m in the habit of being. As I’ve told you repeatedly over the past ten weeks, you boys need to smarten up your act. However, Wilde, you’ve not finished the story. What happened on Friday?” 

Mrs Armstrong knew only too well what had happened on Friday but she wanted to hear it from Wilde himself.

“Er… well Ma’am, I got home from work as usual, and I had decided that I should say sorry for my failings during the week, so I bought her a really huge bunch of flowers. But instead of being pleased – well, actually she did say they were nice but she then went on to say that if I thought I could bribe her by buying flowers I’d better think again. However, she said that it was good that I’d bought her a present as she had bought one for me and that she’d give it to me later. We had dinner and watched some television. Then, suddenly, she turned off the programme saying it was time for my present and that she’d be back in a moment.  A couple of minutes later, sure enough, she was back carrying a parcel, all tied up with ribbons. She gave it to me and told me to open it. Of course I was intrigued and…”. 

His words were cut short by Mrs Armstrong. “At this point you had no idea what was in the parcel, is that correct, Wilde?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I had no idea. It was quite a big box, about this long.” He stretched his hands out wide. “When I got the box open there was a load of newspaper and filling inside and Caroline told me to search. Suddenly I felt something hard and pulled it out. It was a paddle, like one of the ones you and Ms Kane have here. I was still getting over the shock of that when my wife said to keep searching, and right at the bottom of the box there was a cane. Caroline then said to me that although they were for me, it was also a present for herself, because she would enjoy using them. And then she told me to pass them to her.”

“Rather a shock for you, eh, Wilde?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“This is a really interesting story, Wilde, please do continue.” Mrs Armstrong had a smile on her face as she spoke. She was enjoying seeing the boy’s discomfort as he recounted his experience.

“Well, Ma’am, she reminded me of what she’d said about Friday being payback time and that she’d been dying to use the things since they’d arrived the previous day. She told me she’d ordered them online as soon as she got home last Saturday, and that the company had fulfilled its stated three to five days delivery schedule. She then said that even though my behaviour hadn’t been that bad, as the implements were new she needed to give them a thorough try-out, so I’d be getting an extended spanking and caning. She told me to undress, moved a chair into the centre of the room and sat down, then told me to get over her lap. She told me I’d better get used to being over her lap because it was likely I’d find myself there every Friday evening. And then she started, whacking my butt with the paddle, which hurt like blazes. I’d never realised she was quite so strong. How long that went on I’m not sure, it seemed like ages to me, but finally she stopped and told me to stand up.” 

“But that was not the end of the proceedings, was it, Wilde? Do carry on,” Mrs Armstrong interjected.

“Well, Ma’am, I was standing there rubbing my butt, thankful it was over, but Caroline went and picked up the cane and was making swishing noises with it. She said she thought it would do nicely, and ordered me to bend over with my hands flat on the chair. And then she gave me a dozen vicious swats, which stung something rotten.”

“Are you sure it was a dozen, Wilde? Did you keep count?” Mrs Armstrong asked.

“Yes, Ma’am, she told me to count each stroke aloud.”

“Well, well,” declared Mrs Armstrong, “there was me sitting at home yesterday evening, relaxing and quietly reading a book, while over in your house all this excitement was happening. What a lucky boy you are to have such a caring and responsible wife!”

Wilde, for once, remained silent, wanting, but not daring, to disagree with Mrs Armstrong, who continued speaking.

“In the circumstances it sounds as though you have been well recompensed for your behaviour this week and that, for once, you are not in need of my special measures. What do you think Ms Kane?”

“It certainly sounds so to me, Mrs Armstrong,” Ms Kane replied, “but perhaps to be sure we should just check on the state of Wilde’s backside, to make sure that he hasn’t been exaggerating.”

“An excellent idea,” Mrs Armstrong declared, “come out here, Wilde, and bare your bottom for us all to see.”

Reluctantly, Ernie Wilde made his way to the front and did as Mrs Armstrong had instructed, so that the results of the previous evening were on show not only to the two women but also to his fellow students.

“Most impressive,” Mrs Armstrong declared.

“I agree,” said Ms Kane, “it is very clear, Wilde, that your wife is not only caring but also very skilled.”

The women’s approval was justified. Not only was the whole of Wilde’s bottom a very deep shade of pinkish red, it was also bearing a mass of distinctive tramline marks left by the cane. It was clear that Mrs Wilde had been as proficient dealing with her husband as she had been when practising at the previous week’s session.

“Very well, Wilde, pull your trousers up and go and sit down … carefully, I suggest, given the state of you.” Mrs Armstrong could be severe, but she had a kind side too! “We shall not be requiring you to stay behind this evening.”

Attention turned to Dickens. Mrs Dickens was another of the wives who had impressed Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane, and her report had stated that she had indeed put her new-found spanking skills into practice, and clearly had listened carefully to Ms Kane’s talk about household implements. But it was important to hear her husband’s side of the story.

Dickens, who could be hard going at times, recounted the events of the week in detail. It transpired that Mrs Dickens had adopted a rather different approach to Mrs Wilde. Instead of making a note of transgressions and dealing with them on a weekly basis, she had decided on an ‘instant justice’ approach. So it was that on the previous Sunday when Oliver Dickens had tried to evade helping with the chores that were a part of his wife’s household routine, he found himself over Anne’s knee for a sound spanking. On Tuesday he had carelessly let a pan of milk boil over and she had spanked him with a wooden spoon, and on Wednesday, when he left his clothes lying all over the bedroom, she had reached for her wooden-backed hairbrush. On Thursday and Friday he had redoubled his efforts and had managed to avoid further inflictions on his backside.

“It seems to me that your wife’s attentions are having a very beneficial effect,” Ms Kane commented.

“Yes Ma’am,” Dickens agreed ruefully.

“Well, I shall be contacting her and urging her to keep up the good work. I shall also inform her that, should she need any assistance in correcting you, she can arrange for you to attend one of the private sessions that I arrange for naughty boys. Is that clear?”

“Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

Ms Kane was not so sure, but for now she gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Oh, and that goes for the rest of you boys as well,” she added, addressing the class.

“Right, Mr Potter, I think we’ll hear from you next,” Mrs Armstrong declared authoritatively. Henry Potter and his fiancée Joanne Rowley were the couple about whom Mrs Armstrong was most concerned. The fact that they did not live together permanently meant that Potter had the advantage of some additional leeway, and some of the behaviour that had been reported over the term had placed him in need of considerable correction. Moreover, there was no guarantee that the full extent of any misbehaviour had been reported. Additionally, Mrs Armstrong was concerned whether Joanne was a strong enough character to control him in the way that was needed.

“Joanne and I had a long talk last Saturday evening,” he began. “She said the session last week had been quite an eye-opener, and that she had realised she needed to be more assertive. She asked me how I felt about that and I said I wasn’t sure, that I could see good and bad aspects to it. We agreed we’d just have to see how things are once we’re married. Then when I saw her during the week she said she’d thought some more, and that she now thought we needed to sort this out now rather than waiting ‘til we’re married when it’s kind of too late. Then she gave me an ultimatum, that if I didn’t agree to her being in charge then she would break off our engagement. That was a shock to me and not something I wanted to happen, so after we’d talked some more, I agreed to give it go on that basis. Anyway, the most important thing is that her ultimatum really made me think about myself, and I intend to try my best to behave in the right way.”

The gist of Potter’s statement coincided almost exactly with the report that Mrs Armstrong had received from Joanne. Listening to him, she felt that his words and intentions were sincere.

“Well now, I think that is cause for some celebration,” she said. “You will all remember that when you came to Fouettard’s I told you that my sole aim is the help you have better lives and better relationships. What you have said sounds to me as though the prospects are very positive for you and the future Mrs Potter. I am also delighted to hear that your fiancée has the good sense to sort out the nature of your relationship now, something for which I shall congratulate her. Similar to what Ms Kane said to you earlier, I shall tell her that I too am available to support her if you give her any trouble. But for now I wish you well.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” Potter replied. In truth he was still somewhat taken aback by his experience at the Academy and the change in his relationship with his fiancée, but deep down he had a sense that what Mrs Armstrong, Ms Kane, and now Joanne too were demanding was in his best interests. Moreover, he had not enjoyed having his bottom warmed, and the threat of this happening at his fiancée’s hands was a strong incentive to improve his behaviour.

Ian Fleming was the next to report. As had been the case for several of the boys, he and his wife Penny had held a discussion the previous Saturday evening following the wives’ session. Except that in Fleming’s case it had been less of a discussion and more of an argument. At one point he had told her that if she thought he was going to let her ever spank him she had another think coming, a statement that really lit the blue touch paper.
The argument had continued, with Penny demanding an apology and Fleming refusing to give it, and as a result they had slept in separate rooms. 

However, he said, by the next morning he had calmed down, had thought about things more, and had duly given his wife an apology, which she had accepted. However, she had told him that an apology was not sufficient, and had ordered him to take off his belt, which she had then used to give him a thrashing for his behaviour. 

“And how have things been since then?” Mrs Armstrong enquired.

“As far as I’m concerned that’s the end of it,” said Fleming. “I lost, she won, end of story.”

“Yes and no,” replied Mrs Armstrong, a frown on her face. “You are right that once you have been punished for your misdeeds that is the end of that particular matter. However, I detect from your attitude that you are neither truly contrite, nor are you accepting your wife’s authority. In my view you are in need of considerable further attitude adjustment training. If the next term at Fouettard’s was not already fully booked I would be discussing with your wife about you returning. As it is, I shall have to leave it to Mrs Fleming to persevere with you. Meanwhile, you will stay behind at the end of this session, and I warn you now that I am disposed to treat you extremely harshly.”

“But Ma’am,” Fleming protested, “I …..”

His words were abruptly curtailed by Mrs Armstrong. “Be quiet, Fleming,” she rapped; “there are no buts. You have heard my decision, which is not open to question. It is time you accepted that when I or Ms Kane or your wife make a decision, we are not asking your opinion, we are telling you how it is.”

She paused, and suddenly the anger on her face changed briefly to a wry smile. “Actually, Fleming, there is one butt, yours, and by the time I’ve finished with you, you will be acutely conscious of it. Now we must move on.”

Next to be considered was Joe Austen. Events for him had taken a rather different direction about which, on balance, he was reasonably happy. He recounted how, later the previous Saturday evening, his wife, Emma, had initiated a discussion about the events of the day, saying how much she had enjoyed it, and that she had never realised that spanking could be so enjoyable. Joe had retorted that it might have been enjoyable for her but his bottom was still sore. “Perhaps you should let me inspect it,” Emma had said but had then stated that she could best undertake this task if he was draped over her lap. Despite Joe’s protests, Emma had insisted. She then concluded that although there was a touch of pink, a deeper shade of pink would be much more attractive, and to Joe’s chagrin had proceeded to spank him again. However, his regret at her new source of pleasure was eased when, satisfied with her work, Emma had instructed him to carry her to the bedroom, where events much more to his liking had ensued.

“The same thing happened again during the week, so it seems that in order to get my needs satisfied I have to let her spank me,” he said. 

“It sounds to me as though you are still thinking about yourself, Austen,” said Ms Kane matter-of-factly. “Your wife’s pleasure should always be given priority and should be uppermost in your mind. And I don’t much like this ‘let her spank me’ nonsense. If your wife decides you need a spanking then that decision is final, irrespective of what you think or want.”

Joe Austen then made a fateful mistake. “Indeed so, Ma’am, but I’ve realised that the best way of getting what I want is to do things that annoy her, so that she can then enjoy giving me a spanking, and then, well, you know….” His voice trailed off without finishing the sentence.

Almost as soon as he’d spoken he realised his mistake, and wished he’d kept his thoughts to himself.

Ms Kane was incensed. “Austen, that is selfish and appalling, and I’m sure your wife will have the good sense to very quickly see through your devious scheme. I shall certainly be speaking with her to advise a strategy that circumvents it. Meanwhile, you will be punished for your extremely naughty idea. I think a good caning is the least you deserve, and don’t imagine for one second that I will be offering you any favours afterwards.”

“Quite preposterous,” Mrs Armstrong added. “Sometimes I despair of you boys. Ms Kane was quite right to use the word devious. I really wonder if you have learned anything in your time here, Austen, which if I recall correctly was what I said to you at the end of last time and why you’ve been back here for further training. As with Fleming, I cannot accommodate you next term and must leave matters to your wife, which I am confident she is now very capable of doing. Meanwhile, you also will stay behind at the end of this session.”  

So, lastly, the honour (if such it was) of making the final report of the term went to Wordsworth, fittingly perhaps because he was the only boy in the history of Fouettard’s to be enrolled for three terms. And it was a finale that contained quite a shock for everyone, except perhaps – to a degree – Mrs Armstrong. 

Wordsworth stood up. Ignoring the brief report notes he had written he addressed Mrs Armstrong, requesting her indulgence as he wanted to make a statement rather than give a report on his behaviour. Heads turned towards him in surprise.

“The fact is, Ma’am, I want to thank you and Ms Kane for achieving what I have been unable to do over many years. As a result of your instruction last Saturday my wife has now agreed to spank me on a regular basis. Far from regretting that, as most of my fellow students appear to do, it is something I welcome. I am what is commonly known as a spanko. Some may find that strange, but it is a desire I have harboured for much of my life. My initial enrolment at Fouettard’s was something I engineered. My wife agreed to it as a compromise between my desire and her reluctance to engage in it herself. I have to admit that my bad behaviour was deliberate, in order to be able to continue here. So all I really wish to say is to thank both of you, Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane, for your wonderful attention to my needs, and most of all for convincing my wife.”

Several of the other students looked at him in amazement. Yes, they had come to realise the benefits of the Academy’s straightforward, no-nonsense approach but to actually enjoy the painful punishments this included was outside their frame of reference.

Ms Kane smiled gently, shaking her head with a mixture of surprise and appreciation. “I must congratulate you, Wordsworth, on your acting ability. How you have kept up this pretence of being a genuinely naughty boy I’m not sure. I also want to congratulate you on your courage in making this statement. It is, of course, a limited environment, but to come out as you have is not something everyone is able to do. I welcome you to the world of spankos, to use your word. Whilst my prime objective in being here with Mrs Armstrong is to assist in the training that she offers, punishing naughty boys does give me great pleasure. Furthermore, I am genuinely pleased for you that you and your wife can now incorporate these activities in your marriage, and I am very confident that this will enhance your relationship.”

Mrs Armstrong then spoke. “Ms Kane has said most of what needs to be said, Wordsworth. I will admit that over the time you have been here I have had my doubts about you. Your persistent and stubborn refusal to learn led me at times to wonder if you actually enjoyed being punished, and you have made it clear that was indeed the case. Part of me is mindful to punish you here today for your dishonesty until now, but on balance it is better that I leave this to your wife.”

After a final short lecture from Mrs Armstrong, four of the boys – Wordsworth, Dickens, Wilde and Potter – were allowed to leave, while, as required, Fleming and Austen stayed behind to face the wrath of their tutors. In the circumstances, given it was the final session and there were only two boys to punish, they were each treated to a session with both women. Ms Kane stood on one side with a thick, two-tailed leather strap, while Mrs Armstrong was on the other with one of her whippiest canes. The two women alternated, one stroke each at a time, until Fleming had taken twenty-four from each of them. Austen then took his place and received the same treatment. In themselves the strapping and caning were severe punishments, but dealing alternately with the differing sensations of leather and rattan increased the boys’ ordeal. By the time it was over they were both very grateful that they would not be returning to Fouettard’s, at least in the foreseeable future.

Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane reflected on the session. What they had heard had convinced them even more strongly that the wives’ session the previous week had been an inspired idea. They also agreed that there was at least an even chance that they had not heard the last of Dickens; whilst they did not doubt his wife’s ability or commitment to the cause, he was exactly the sort of boy who was likely to require some additional private tuition at the hands of a professional expert. For different reasons, there was a fair chance of Wordsworth seeking their further attention. It seemed the boy had an insatiable appetite that his wife might not be able to satisfy; if so, they would be glad to help out. Meanwhile, the transformation of Potter and his fiancée gave them particular satisfaction; given the starting point, the establishment of domestic discipline within their relationship was remarkable. 

“How good it is to be able to make the world a better and happier place, Dana,” said Julia.

And the two women knew this was something they would go on doing long into the future. 
The end. 




This marks the end of UK Laureate’s ‘Fouettard’s Academy’ – a wonderfully detailed and entertaining F/M Spanking Story in four parts.


If you haven’t already, please take a moment to attach a thank-you to UKL in the comment box, as he’s shown such generosity in sharing his writing talent and imagination with us all, again and again.  


(And if you’re still having trouble commenting, try using the Google Chrome browser…it seems to work fine with the Blogger format.)




– Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Discipline Academy Video, starring Angel (and Dana Kane)



Readers,


Since you’ve had the opportunity to read some of Angel’s thoughts on D/S, spanking, and our time together, I thought you may like to see her (us, actually) in action. After our workday, I could think of no better way to blow off some steam than to film a quick scene for our mutual friends at Discipline Academy. While much of their content is heavy BDSM-themed, we thought it would be fun to do something a bit different…something more my style. Angel, in her wonderful way, was up for just about anything, so I decided to take the opportunity to address a little problem of hers – holding still.


Angel is cute as a button, sweet as she can possibly be, and tough as nails. She proves it in the video we made for Discipline Academy, titled ‘Endurance Challenge’.


Warning:
This is not typical spanko-style video, nor is it anything like the videos which I make here, at home.
Angel and I play out a corporal punishment and endurance scene, which includes somewhat heavy use of cane, leather and rubber implements on the buttocks, thighs, and other areas…as well as some relatively intense verbal and psychological manipulation. While I do not delve into anything disturbing, obscene, or severe…some viewers of my other videos may find this one rather, well…intense.


– Dana



You may preview/purchase the video, in three parts, here:

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The VBB: Prepunishment Journal: The Final Installment



With his Punishment Day looming, I will let the VBB speak for himself…
– Dana




There always seems to be at least one statement, which Ms. Kane writes in her Emails that seems to leap off the screen and catches my attention. I am not sure if she purposely plans to use specific phrases or if they just happen to be what she is thinking at the time. It really does not matter because the result is the same; they catch my attention and inevitably cause my anxiety level to rise a good deal. Statements such as “We’ll deal with this behavior in short order,” “you will receive true discipline,” “You know that you’re in trouble,” “understand the necessity for seriousness.” While each statement alone elicits a feeling of apprehension, seeing them together creates a much deeper sense of dread. However, none of these statements either by themselves or as a whole produces in me the overwhelming feeling of panic as much as the words …“Punishment Day”… these two words cause a feeling of impending doom to well up in my stomach. The simple phrase caught me so off guard when I first read them that I lost my concentration as a growing numbness engulfed me. As I reread the dreaded words, the numbness gave way to a surge of adrenalin and I had to fight the urge to get up and run. Of course, there was no place to run and running would not have changed what Ms. Kane had written. 


“Punishment Day”…. these two words create an unthinkable epiphany of what awaits me during my upcoming session with Ms. Kane and my wife,  which is now duly designated as “Punishment Day”. There is nothing good about the name “Punishment Day,” the name itself invokes unsettling mental images of the impending doom, which awaits me. The words create an image of swelling black storm clouds gathering in the distance which darken the midday sky and sets ones soul trembling in fear. The term “Punishment Day” may not have elicited the same response if Ms. Kane had used it to label our first session together. There is some truth to James Gray’s statement “Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.” Before meeting Ms. Kane for the first time, my knowledge of her skills and abilities came solely from her blog and videos. My first hand ignorance of her expertise surely was blissful at the time. However after three sessions, whatever blissfulness I may have had before our first session is certainly long gone. This firsthand knowledge now makes the term “Punishment Day” much more menacing and creates such uneasiness in me that I have not been able to stop thinking about all the possibilities that “Punishment Day” invokes. I tried to explain to my wife how the term “Punishment Day” has so unnerved me, but her response is simply to tell me “You just need to trust that Dana and I know exactly what you can handle” Which I am sure was meant to make me feel a bit better. However, in reality, that really is the problem, they both know how much I can handle, and I certainly know what the both of them can dish out together. That is why the term “Punishment Day” conjures up such terrifying thoughts. 

            As if “Punishment Day” was not enough, Ms. Kane ended her Email with the proclamation “I’ll see you soon,” which only caused my sense of foreboding to deepen; It was then I had to fully  accept the fact that “Punishment Day” was coming whether I want it to or not. The words “I’ll see you soon” resonate deep within my consciousness and leaves me feeling completely powerless. I feel as though I’m trapped in a room with no way out and I so desperately want to find a way out of this room. Even if I can find a way out I am sure of one thing, standing in the way are two powerful and determined women patiently waiting for “Punishment Day” to arrive. In contrast to their poised self-confidence, I am trying everything in my power to maintain my composure. I wonder what would happen if I just throw myself at their mercy and plead for leniency. I think Ms. Kane would simply pick up the dreaded whippy cane and with a slight smile my wife would tell me once again, “Well I guess you should have thought about that before you decided to be sneaky and dishonest with me” and with that “Punishment Day” would begin…. I wonder if I have ever told them how much I hate the cane, especially that hideous white thin whippy fiberglass one.       
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Survey Results



With a current response count of 332, the What Makes Us Tick – And Tingle survey is a great way to investigate the many ways in which we spankos come together…and differ.


Forty-four percent of respondents said that they were rarely (or never) spanked at home, with the majority of those who WERE spanked at home receiving hand spankings and/or beltings as the chosen form of discipline. A full fourteen percent (about 44 respondents) said that they’d never really been disciplined prior to adulthood and have no idea why they’re into it now.
Also, over fifty respondents so far have said that they were play spanked by another boy/girl of their age.


I found the numbers for  ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ – a question about self-spanking to be particularly interesting:


I have never self-spanked, and have no interest in trying.                 19%
I have tried self-spanking but found it unsatisfying.                          38%
I self-spank occasionally, but only out of necessity.                          17%
I like self-spanking from time to time, and find it pleasurable.           14%
I often self-spank and thoroughly enjoy the sensation.                        6%




A whopping one hundred fifty-four (154) respondents, a full 46 percent, said that they’ve never managed to have a good cry during spanking, but are hopeful.
For those hopeful masses, five percent answered that they’d cried once during a spanking…and it was amazing.


66% of you like scolding  –  but no humiliation.
14% like it (verbally) rough.


A full half of all respondents said that, while they’d love to attend, there have been no spanking parties/gatherings for them. Twenty-seven percent have no interest in attending; and a few of you have been to nearly every party on the block.


I am particularly grateful for the mere 7% of female respondents, but cannot neglect the other 90+% who are male (70 percent over 40):
Thank you, gentlemen – once again – for reading, commenting, and sharing. It is my distinct pleasure, as always.


–  Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Extraordinary Experiences with Ms Dana Kane’


Readers,
Having arrived home from yet another amazing trip, I was happy to find an email from Angel – with whom I so thoroughly enjoyed meeting and playing..


Extraordinary Experiences with Ms. Dana Kane
I finally got to meet Dana after a couple of weeks of e-mail exchanges and planning for sessions, and while she knows I already love her – she definitely deserves a review for the benefit of all those “spankos” out there who might be considering a session with her.  She is truly wonderful and I wouldn’t be able to recommend her highly enough to anyone seeking a playful spanking, a true discipline session or something in between. 
I was definitely nervous when I went to the Studio when it came time to meet her.  She was already in session, and I waited quietly in the back.  I was quite surprised when she entered the room because I did not hear her coming.  She cracked open the door and found me sitting on the floor (since she had the extra chair for some OTK play).  I was instantly gripped by this sense of nervous panic.  She is really rather attractive with jet-black hair and beautiful, mesmerizing light blue eyes that I experienced in a span of a couple of hours changing from soft and inviting to stern and anxiety-provoking. 
When she saw me on the floor she said, “You must be Angel, ” and proceeded to turn to Kevin (the video editor and my “slave brother”) and exclaim, “Well isn’t she just so cute?”   Of course I blushed an unnatural shade of red and my heart started playing games inside my chest, refusing my instructions to calm it down a few notches.  We spoke a little; well actually – I mostly watched and listened as she spoke.  I was a little hypnotized by her accent.  I love the way she speaks.  I could just listen to her all day long.
The first session we had was with her client, and I did something for her that I wouldn’t do for many people – even if they threw $100 bills at me so quickly my head would spin.  However, from speaking to her in the e-mails and learning from  Ms. Mona Rogers  (whose opinion I value  more than I can say), and of course with permission from my Mistress, I decided to take a little blind leap of faith and trust her.  She used me as a “demonstration bottom” to instruct her client how to properly administer a spanking.
I will say I was pleasantly surprised when I met him, and Dana says that he felt the same way about me.  He was really very sweet and gentle and definitely more attractive than I had expected.  I misread one of Dana’s e-mails and thought she said he was “retired,” when in fact she said he was “retiring” – and so I expected to be interacting with a 70 year old gray haired man.  Not that there is anything wrong with retired 70 year old gray-haired men, but my senses were all confused from my expectations and mixed-up adjectives .
She had me layer my panties, so underneath my skirt I had a pair of full bottoms which covered a thong-type panty that left my cheeks exposed.  She laid out the implements on the bondage bed and had me lean over it, and then she began spanking me with her hand over my skirt and had her client follow her lead.  Really, I felt nothing and wondered what kind of little game this was.  It was more like patting and sort of felt like a little massage.  I liked it, but it was not long before I had my protection removed and Dana was demonstrating how and where to spank varying the level of intensity and interspersing it with gentle caresses and tending to the flesh. 
I maintained nearly perfect composure until she started on me with some moderately stingy whacks , which at one point landed so hard that I found myself leaning my body against her for support as she smacked me.  I know she was using much less force than she is capable of, but wow did it leave an impression.  Her client was a quick learner and picked up on her techniques, and I was not bothered in the slightest – until she started to spank the exact way that I hate and that I instantly associate with punishment… no matter what.  She was spanking me very low on my bottom, over both cheeks, very forcefully.  I wasn’t about to let on that this bothered me – as I knew within 2 seconds of meeting her I was going to really like her and would probably end up interacting with her again –  which means she might very likely have a legitimate opportunity to punish me at some point or another. 
To prevent the same mistake I did with my Mistress, I tried with every fiber of my being to remain unaffected.  However, I don’t know how great of a job I did in reality.  I do recall her every now and then being able to dictate how I was feeling based solely on reading my body language, which really impressed me.  She might have caught on without actually saying anything – but if not, I know my Mistress will tell her, this information is available on my blog, and if she ever does discipline me for something serious – I will not be able to conceal any reactions of distress from her.
Then came the part where I was over her knee, which was really the moment of truth for me as I didn’t know how I would react. I have a big OTK phobia.  I  must say though that I was dealing with it pretty decently due to her encouraging words and the fact that she  wasn’t anywhere  near driving me towards my tolerance level, and I knew I wasn’t in trouble.  But I did get a little squirmy over her lap because she was really spanking me hard.  Her hand is insane.  I was in a state of mild shock, not having expected it to hurt so much.  She also used some implements and the dreaded leg lock so that there was no chance of escape.  I wasn’t trying to escape but I started to drift out of the peaceful state I was in realizing that if I wanted to escape for whatever reason, I couldn’t.  She’s pretty much on the petite side, but I don’t think I could have fought my way out of her grasp if my life depended on it. 
Thankfully, this was just a demonstration and I wasn’t trapped there that long – but I was bordering on panic.  She started spanking me with some things like the wooden spoon, a paddle and various other “toys” – and she at times spanked areas that are unfamiliar to me, like the very upper part of my ass and the thigh territory.  By the time she was done with me I had sort of melted onto the floor and buried my head into her chest, prompting her to comfort me and play with my hair – which is something I like very, very much like.  I did not want to get up, at all, ever.  But it wasn’t over quite yet.
Her client had his chance to show Dana what he had learned and he did a very good job.  He is a very nice spanker, and even better at consoling a battered bottom.  He played with me for a little while longer and then Dana gave him a little show by using some more severe implements on me, including some sort of  heavy strap which almost made me jump 20 feet in midair. She also gave me three licks with the belt and I prayed she couldn’t see me shaking when she did it, and I got very gentle whacks with a rubber cable toy I made for my Mistress – that I now very much regret doing.
Then it was back over her knee, and by this time I was getting a little edgy.  She was spanking me pretty hard over and over in the spot that I dislike and I was terrified if I reacted that she would figure it out.  However, I couldn’t help myself and started to put my hand behind me – although I tried to fight that urge because I knew in no uncertain terms (because she said so) that she would pin my hand behind my back, and there’s nothing I hate more than that and the leg-lock. 
Luckily for me, she stopped spanking just in time.  Another few seconds and I would have leapt off of her lap before she would have known what was happening.  Her hand was so threatening that I had devised 3 different escape routes in my mind while over her knee and I was remarkably close to using one of them  just before I realized I wasn’t being smacked anymore.  I didn’t warn her of this possibility.  And I only feel safe informing of her about this now, as she reads this, because she is almost back in Vegas and I can’t suffer any repercussions!
I only asked her if she would be upset if I started crying, as there is only so much OTK I can endure, and she sweetly told me she would not be upset or offended.  I didn’t end up crying but I did get that streak of rebellion that was begging to rear its ugly head at her.  I am glad that didn’t happen.  I don’t know what she would have done with me really, if it had.  She might have considered it time to end the session because I was distressed, or she would have seen it for what it really was and taken me over her knee for a real spanking – which I had already told her she had the liberty to do if necessary (permission enthusiastically granted from my Mistress – who only met her for a few minutes but is already quite fond of her).
She is really an expert spanker in terms of physical and psychological technique.  When she was talking to her client, she told him that if someone over her knee couldn’t take it anymore that their only option to stop the spanking was to turn around while in that predicament and respectfully say so – at which point SHE would determine whether the level of discomfort was genuine and enough to stop the spanking or whether it was a whiny, manipulative ploy to control the scene.  This is disturbing because this is something I cannot even imagine doing, at least not with any success.  It’s so much easier to attempt manipulation when you are looking at the floor and not at the person spanking  you.  I can only imagine that it is a seriously terrible move to try to look a Dominant in the eye and lie to her while your ass is entirely at her mercy – which is of course not to say that I wouldn’t do it, because spanking hurts, sometimes so badly that I consider biting off my own arm to get out of one.
Well, I am sure I will have an opportunity to experiment some with Ms. Dana, as she is coming back to the City in November and I very much hope I will have the opportunity to interact with her again this time around.  I already can’t wait for her to return.  There are so many wonderful things to say about this woman, but I urge you to see for yourself what an incredible person she is – not to mention she seems to be a very adept disciplinarian and a literal spanking machine.  I am going to write a little more about her on my blog in the coming days, which you can feel free to visit (if you are so inclined) at:  http://www.littleprincessofpain.wordpress.com.
Regards,
Angel

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F/M Spanking Stories: Fouettard’s Academy – Part Three



It just keeps getting better.


The third installment of Fouettard’s Academy, titled ‘Dana’s Idea’, from UK Laureate…   






Fouettard’s Academy: (3) Dana’s idea

Shortly before the end of week eight Mrs Armstrong made an announcement, which came as a surprise to the students. She informed them that the following week’s session would be only half a day, in the afternoon. “Ms Kane and I have some important work to do in the morning, so you boys are excused; and for one week only you are also excused from bringing the usual envelope,” she said. “However, you will be here to begin at two pm sharp and we have some special lessons planned for the afternoon.”

The ‘important work’ Mrs Armstrong referred to had been Dana’s idea. Ever thoughtful and creative, she had suggested to Julia that to really keep ‘the boys’ in order, it would help if their wives were spanking them at home during the week, and that they should hold a session for the wives to train them in disciplinary techniques. Initially, Julia was sceptical, figuring that by training the wives she might be cutting her own throat in a business sense. However, Dana pointed out that the next term was already fully enrolled and the waiting list for places was growing. By training the wives there would be less need for re-enrolments and they would be able to take on six new boys each term. In addition, she argued, such an action would support the wider principle of female supremacy – the more women engaged in domestic discipline the better.

It was this latter argument that largely won Julia over, but she harboured doubts about whether the wives would be keen. After all, there had been nothing to stop them undertaking the discipline of their husbands but instead they had chosen to enrol them at Fouettards. “Let me phone and speak to them,” Dana had requested, and Julia agreed.

Dana was proved right. (Was she ever wrong?) Some days later she informed Julia that all six had agreed. Most had responded enthusiastically, others needed a bit more encouragement. Mrs Wordsworth had argued that she found the whole thing a bit ‘kinky’ and that she was not very comfortable about taking part in it. Joanne Rowley, Henry Potter’s fiancée, had been the most resistant. She understood Dana’s reasoning but strongly doubted her ability to play the disciplinary role. “All the more reason to come and give it a go,” Dana had said, and eventually both women were persuaded.

Julia and Dana worked together to plan the session, and it was agreed to hold it on the morning of the penultimate Saturday of term. That day had now come and all the women were assembled, along with three guys, known to Dana, who had been specially invited. The wives had been given strict instructions not to tell their husbands where they were going; this was to be a surprise for later.

In the first part of the session the women listened to Julia and Dana explaining the importance of domestic discipline spankings. 

“Quite simply,” Julia began, “a good old-fashioned, over-the-knee bare-bottom spanking takes a lot of beating, if you’ll excuse the expression, especially in a domestic context. I imagine most of you suffered that fate when you were little, and I’m pretty sure that all your men-folk did too. So why is domestic discipline good? First and foremost it will take him back to when he really was a small boy, helpless over his mother’s knee. Recapturing those feelings is essential, because it reminds him of female dominance, and doing as he’s told by the woman in his life. Back then it was his mother, now it’s you, but the element of control should be the same, and if he fails to do what you tell him, or engages in behaviour of which you disapprove, then he has to be brought back in line.”


(Click ‘Read More’ below to display the full story.)




Dana reminded them that alongside imposing strict discipline, it was also important to enjoy the activity. “There’s nothing I like better than a naked male bottom over my lap or bending over in front of me,” she said, smiling broadly. “I enjoy the authority, but I also enjoy the spanking itself and the scolding with which I accompany it. And the better your man becomes trained, the more he will thank you afterwards, and you will enjoy not only his better behaviour but his greater devotion to your needs as a woman.”
Dana also suggested the importance of variety. “As well as hand spankings, there’s a whole range of household implements you can use,” she said, listing the wooden spoon and spatula, a carpet beater, a ruler, a ping-pong bat, a fly-swatter, slippers with rubber or leather soles, thick leather belts, “and probably more; just use your imagination,” she said, her face displaying a wicked grin. There were several chuckles from her audience.

Julia then ran through other purpose-designed implements for more severe discipline, showing the women a huge range of paddles, whips, riding crops, straps, tawses, and canes. “Before you go I’ll give you a list of some websites where you can purchase all these things,” she said, “but although some of them are fairly expensive, there are also a lot of cheaper items so you don’t need to spend a fortune, and I’m not advising you to rush out and build an arsenal. Just get maybe one or two, and introduce them gradually – if you can bear to wait, of course!” Again the women laughed. 

After some discussion and a break for coffee it was time for some live practice – hence the presence of the three guys Dana had recruited. Initially, Anne Dickens, Emma Austen, and Penny Fleming were each paired with one of the guys to practice OTK spanking, using their hands and a range of implements; this was supervised by Dana, who gave advice and made suggestions to help the women improve their technique.

While this was happening, Julia led a caning workshop for the other three women. For starters Julia had brought a large black cushion, which she placed strategically on a chair. She then drew a thick white chalk line across the middle. “An important part of giving a good caning is accuracy,” she explained to the women, “so that you can space the strokes to produce a series of lines without too much overlapping.” Having given a few demonstration strokes, she invited the women in turn to undertake some target practice, the aim being to land the cane on, or as near as possible, the chalk line. “Initially, go for accuracy rather than power,” Julia advised, but if you use plenty of wrist action the cane will swish very nicely.”

Mary Wordsworth was first to try. Her first attempts were awkward and somewhat wayward, but as she continued not only did she feel more comfortable with the rhythm of making the strokes but also her aim became much more accurate. Next up was Caroline Wilde. During the morning it had quickly become clear to Julia and Dana that Mrs Wilde was a strong, confident woman. She had never held a cane before but seemed at ease as she took hold of it & gave it a few swishes through the air. Her first shot at the cushion landed plum on the line, sending up a puff of chalk. The other women applauded. “Beginner’s luck”, said Caroline, though inwardly she was pleased with herself. Her second attempt was almost as good, landing within half an inch of the line. The third, which she struck more firmly, again landed right on the line with a pronounced thwack, producing another puff of chalk. Mrs Wilde, it seemed, was a natural! After another half-dozen or so attempts, all of which were reasonably close to the line, Julia commented that she didn’t think Caroline required any more practice and that she was confident that her husband would be experiencing a neatly striped bottom in the near future.

Joanne Rowley was not so successful. She had not overcome her nervousness about the whole thing, and couldn’t imagine herself ever giving her husband-to-be a caning. Her initial strokes were both feeble and wide of the mark. “Take your time, just get used to holding and swishing the cane,” Julia had encouraged. Joanne persevered and gradually her aim became better, though the strokes were still rather mild. “OK, honey, now, just think to yourself, this cushion has been very, very naughty. I want you to teach it a lesson. Take your arm back further and make sure to flex your wrist.” Joanne followed Julia’s instructions and this time the rattan landed on the cushion with a meaty thwack, and not too far from the line. The others applauded, and Joanne’s face broke into a slightly embarrassed smile. Five minutes later, after more practice, she was, as Julia commented, “really getting into the swing of it”. 

In due course the two groups of wives swapped places, with the OTK group learning about caning, and vice versa. The unmistakeable sounds of spanking echoed around the room. Then, finally, Julia called all the women together. Their final practice was to try out their new-found caning skills on a human being, namely one of the three guys, all of whom were now thoroughly reddened as a result of being spanked almost continually for the past hour.

Julia positioned a chair and the first guy was ordered to bend over with his hands on the seat. She suggested that Caroline Wilde should be the first wife, confident that this would get them off to a good start. She was not disappointed. Mrs Wilde landed six stingers, spreading them across different parts of the guy’s backside, to applause from Julia, Dana and the other women. Emma Austen was next, and added to the guy’s discomfort with six firm and reasonably well-placed strokes.

A second guy took the place of the first and was ‘dealt with’ by Mary Wordsworth and Penny Fleming, both of whom did quite well. Then finally it was the turn of the third guy to offer his backside for target practice. Anne Dickens, who, like Caroline Wilde had found the task had come fairly naturally to her, stepped forward and gave six of the best that Julia and Dana would have been proud to have delivered themselves. Finally, it was Joanne Rowley. Despite her initial nervousness, watching the other wives doing so well had made her determined not to let the side down. She didn’t, applying the strokes with a degree of panache that, at the start of the morning, she wouldn’t have imagined possible.

“Bravo, ladies,” said Julia, and she and Dana embraced all the women in turn, congratulating them on their new-found skills. Dana thanked the three guys for being good sports and participating so well, prompting the wives to break into some impromptu applause. 

The morning had been challenging but also great fun. “I think that went well,” Julia said to Dana, who certainly agreed. In fact her idea had proved to be even more successful than she anticipated, and she herself had greatly enjoyed passing on the benefits of her knowledge, skill and experience to the women.

The eight women enjoyed a delicious lunch ordered in by Julia, and of course much of the discussion was about the activities of the morning and their feelings about acting as disciplinarians to their husbands, or in Joanne Rowley’s case, fiancé. They also heard from Julia about the demerits system employed at Fouettards. Then, conscious of the time, they had been secreted away in a back room, anxious that they should not be seen if any of the ‘boys’ arrived early for the afternoon session.

By two pm all the men had arrived and the session began. “Good afternoon, boys,” Mrs Armstrong greeted them, “I hope you have put your morning off to good use and are ready for what we have in store ….. though, actually, I rather doubt that.” She smiled, knowingly, and it was all Dana could do to prevent herself laughing aloud.

The boys were given just ten minutes, much less time than usual, to write their behaviour confessions. Each in turn was then given two minutes to read out their list to the group, at the end of which Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane collected all the notes they had written.

“There’s something strange going on here,” commented Joe Austen, “this doesn’t smell right to me.” Dickens, always perceptive, agreed.

Their suspicions were soon confirmed, as Mrs Armstrong announced that she had a surprise for them, at which point Ms Kane left the room. She carried on speaking until a few moments later Ms Kane reappeared, followed by the six wives. Julia and Dana studied the boys’ reactions; the astonishment on their faces was a joy to behold!

“What the hell?” said Fleming.

“Oh my goodness, this I don’t believe,” groaned Wilde.

Mrs Armstrong pulled out some chairs and the wives sat in a group at the front of the room. As the initial shock wore off and the reality of the situation had started to sink in, the boys had gone quiet. 

“I trust you boys are delighted to see your loving partners here to support your education,” Mrs Armstrong said with an irony that amused her. “I did inform you that we had some special lessons planned for this afternoon. What will now happen is that each of you in turn will be the focus of attention. I shall read out the confession you have written this afternoon and then invite your wife to comment on its accuracy and any omissions. In consultation with her I shall then decide on how many demerits you deserve. However, instead of staying behind at the end, any punishment required will be given immediately, in front of the whole group.”

Wilde put his head in his hands, an action noticed by Mrs Armstrong. “What’s the matter, Wilde, are you unhappy with these arrangements?” 

“Well, Ma’am, it’s just that having my wife watching me get spanked will be rather…er… embarrassing.”

“My dear boy, don’t worry yourself on that score,” said Mrs Armstrong, “I’m sure we can find a way around it. In the circumstances I think you should be first, so that you don’t have too long to worry.” In truth she had already determined that Wilde would be first, having seen his wife in action during the morning practice sessions.

“Stand up, Wilde, while I’m reading out your list,” Mrs Armstrong ordered. “Right, number one, ‘I upset Caroline by watching a football game instead of helping with the chores’. Number two, ‘I got home a bit late on Wednesday when a meeting over-ran’. Number three, ‘I forgot to collect her suit from the dry-cleaners’. Mmm, not a very impressive record, is it, Wilde?

“No, Ma’am.”

Mrs Armstrong turned to his wife. “So, Mrs Wilde, what are your comments on what you’ve heard. Is this a full and accurate record?”

“I’m afraid not, Mrs Armstrong. Number one is true, but there’s no mention that I asked him three times to help me, and each time he ignored me. Number two, well, he makes it sound as though it was not his fault. I have every reason to believe that it was not a work meeting that over-ran, it was a drinking meeting with his mates, and I don’t consider two hours to be a bit late but very late indeed, and there was no phone call to let me know. What he hasn’t mentioned at all is that he’d forgotten previously to pay the phone bill so we received a red reminder, and when I went to use the car yesterday it was almost out of petrol so I had to stop at the garage to fill up, which made me late.”

“Thank you, Mrs Wilde. Well, now then,” Mrs Armstrong began, putting on her best magisterial tone, “let us consider the situation. Two misbehaviours downplayed considerably, and two omitted entirely. I think that calls for some serious punishment. What do you think Ms Kane?”

“Very poor indeed,” said Dana, “certainly not less than fifty demerits in my opinion.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Mrs Armstrong agreed, which was not surprising as she and Dana had already agreed that Wilde should be given sufficient demerits for a caning, irrespective of his record. “So, Wilde, you are very well aware of the tariff for fifty demerits. Come out here now.” As she spoke she walked to the side of the room and picked up a cane from the table where she had placed a variety of implements. She then pulled out a chair, which she placed in the centre of the room in front of where the boys were sitting. 

“Come along, Wilde, you know the score by now. Get that bottom bared and bend over the chair so that your loving wife can give you what you deserve.” She looked up at the other boys. “Oh, I’m sorry boys, did I forget to mention that it would be your devoted partner administering the punishment today? And if any of you harbour any doubts about how effective that will be, I should also inform you that these lovely ladies have been here all morning learning and practising, which is why your attendance was not required.” 

Ernie Wilde, waiting with his trousers at half-mast, and the rest of the boys were stunned. What was already uncomfortable had now descended into a nightmare. If only they could wake up and discover it was not the case. It was.

Mrs Armstrong turned to Caroline Wilde and asked her to come up and set the wheels in motion. She stood up, walked centre stage and took the cane from Mrs Armstrong. “The tariff for fifty demerits is twelve of the best, Mrs Wilde; kindly proceed in your own time.”

Her husband did not enjoy the next couple of minutes. Mrs Wilde’s proficiency was again demonstrated as the rattan swished, whined and thwacked, occasioning several loud yells from the recipient’s mouth. The lines across his backside were further proof, if any were needed, of her accuracy and first-class technique. 

“Pull your trousers up, boy, and go back to your place,” Mrs Armstrong commanded, “and difficult as it may be, make sure you sit still for the rest of the afternoon or I’ll have you out here for some more.” Wilde ruefully made his way back to his chair.

In turn the rest of the boys were reviewed, sentenced and punished. On this occasion Mrs Armstrong’s decisions about the extent and nature of their punishment were based not simply on what their misdemeanours deserved but also on what she thought their wives were most capable of giving and would most enjoy. Consequently, two of the men were given a hand-spanking, one was slippered, one was paddled, while Potter was the other student to get a caning as Mrs Armstrong wanted to help increase his fiancée’s confidence and authority. In some cases this meant they escaped with a lesser punishment than would normally have been the case, but the embarrassment of being spanked in front of all the other students and their wives added an unwelcome dimension.

“Excellent,” Mrs Armstrong declared after the final punishment had been completed, and went on to inform the boys, if they had not already anticipated as much, that she fully expected the marital discipline to continue. “So if any of you were thinking that next Saturday would see the end of your punishments you’d better think again. Is that not correct, ladies?” She turned to where the wives were sitting, and was greeted with comments like “certainly”, “you can bet on it” and “can’t wait to get started”. Their menfolk looked on with not a little resignation and foreboding.

“Dana, you’re a genius,” Julia said as the two women reviewed the day. “What we’ve done today could be truly life-changing, and it’s all down to your idea. And I’ve decided that, in future, session nine will always take this form, indeed, I’m going to build it into the initial contract.”

“Thank you,” Dana replied. “I’ve learnt a bit over the years about what naughty boys need, and even if they protest initially, it’s not long before they’re thanking me and coming back for more, because they experience the benefits of what I do. Anything I can do to help more men and women have better lives gives me great pleasure.”
To be continued.






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Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Three



I love the conversations that I have with other spankos, and the words that we use to express ourselves are so very important. This is just as true for spanking play as it is in every other aspect of life, and we set the tone and temperature of our interactions with the words that we choose to use.




Chapter Three: What’s in a Word?


We all have favorites; the ones that send the little shocks down our spines. One of the true joys of spanking a bountiful variety of playmates is the discovery of their ‘bottom code’ – the words, terms, and phrases that make the experience most genuine for them.


I know that many spankos don’t care for hefty language, cursing and yelling, and less-than-civilized behaviors while giving or receiving spankings. That being said, most all of us enjoy (or employ) verbal scolding, goading, correction, and embarrassment to some degree.


A few of the many words we use to describe the object of all this obsession/affection (and the ways in which I sometimes employ them):


Bottom – I use this one most commonly, as it has a nice, soft sound and is only a little embarrassing.
Example: “Bend over right now, mister. I’m going to give your bottom the spanking it needs.”


Tushy – The word is silly, and increases the embarrassment, especially during panty spankings.
Example: “My, my, my…your tushy looks almost as good as mine in those shiny red panties.”


Ass – Somewhat harsh, this one is usually reserved for ‘tough lady’ role-play.
Example: “If you’re man enough to show your ass in the boardroom, then you’re man enough to bare it in my office right now.”


Fanny – Another favorite, fanny is just embarrassing enough to be effective.
Example: “Go ahead and kick; I’ll stop spanking when your fanny is nice and red.”


Butt – Clinical, but good for real-life discipline issues and motivation.
Example: “You will receive ten swats with the wooden paddle every time I catch you looking at other women’s butts.”


Backside – Unsexy and hurried, I use this term when giving orders or making a point.
Example: “Turn around, palms against the wall, feet apart…and stick out that backside. This is going to sting.”




There are more, and I’d love reader’s input – which words and phrases ‘work for you’  and which ones make you cringe?   
Is it all about the language, or does delivery make a difference for you?


– Dana

Other Conversations with Spankos:
Chapter One: Isolation
Chapter Two: The Bad Scene

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

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Prepunishment Journal: The VBB and his Wonderful Wife


The next installment of The Very Bad Boy’s prepunishment journal has arrived, and I was delighted to see that his Wonderful Wife has been so considerate as to add her thoughts about his current ‘situation’ and the steps necessary to address and correct the unacceptable behavior.

I am always grateful to be able to share another woman’s perspective, thoughts, and experiences within the spanking lifestyle – and could not be happier that the Wonderful Wife is such a determined and understanding partner and disciplinarian to her husband. Her patient yet unbending hand will likely see them through many more years of DD bliss.

–  Dana

*****

Thoughts from The Wife:

 I am surprised the VBB did not think I was going to take his sneaky behavior seriously. We have discussed in length his sneaky behavior, how it affects our marriage and our closeness. When you live in a DD relationship, you know when your partner has broken a rule because of the way they act. Once the VBB has done something he knows will displease me, he is full of guilt, which causes him to pull away emotionally from me. Of course, I would do anything in my power to enhance our relationship. Therefore, it goes without saying that I will be following through with this discipline session. His true remorse that I know he feels will not sway Dana nor me from using our time together to give him a true disciplinary session. He may try to sway me in not following through; thinking his pre-punishments he receives will make everything all right. When I think of what is at stake, I will definitely not be swayed. This is why he is so apprehensive and rightfully so; he knows he will be appropriately punished for his misdeeds. 


The VBB’s Journal Entry:

Watching the videos from our previous sessions with Ms. Kane made me stop and think about our upcoming session. The advantage of meeting with Ms. Kane for the very first time was she was not fully aware of my tolerance level. Nor did she know which implements and techniques were the most effective. However, after three sessions, Ms. Kane is now fully aware of my tolerance level and she knows without a doubt which implements and techniques are most effective for me. The videos reminded me that Ms. Kane and my wife clearly know and understand my tolerance level. They also know which implements I despise the most. I am afraid despite my many subtle and obvious remarks on how much I hate the cane; the cane will still play a prominent role in our session. Of course, my wife will also bring with her the knowledge of the little tricks I use to try to get her to stop or shorten a spanking. Consequently, I think I will find myself in a vulnerable position. I cannot count on either of them to go light on me, as they both know how much I can actually take. They both know while I can tolerate almost any single or short serious of smacks, I cannot endure quick continuous whacks to the same area. Because this is a serious disciplinary session, I cannot count on my little survival skills nor my sense of humor to try to shorten the spanking. I am apprehensive that I will be at the complete mercy of these two dominate women. Who have made it very clear their goal is to break me of my sneaky and dishonest behavior. Watching these videos put me in a slight funk, for now I really do not want to go through this experience. Watching the videos again did nothing to set me at ease but did just the opposite, they only exacerbated my anxiety about our upcoming visit.
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Thoughts on F/f discipline, from Angel


Readers, 
One of the great things about my job(life) is that I have the opportunity, time and again, to acquaint myself with cool, kind, intelligent people with similar interests. Angel is one of those people – a lifestyle submissive and spanking enthusiast. 
I’ve invited Angel to share…well, just about anything that she’d like here, and she’s been kind enough to send along an introduction of sorts, since we will be meeting for the first time in upcoming days. Maybe Angel will decide to share some post-meeting thoughts, as well.  In the meantime, I am looking forward to getting to know her soon.
– Dana
Read more of Angel’s thoughtful perspectives on life, love, and her d/s dynamic at Angel’s Spanking Blog.

From Angel:

If any of my blog readers find themselves here at Ms. Dana Kane’s site, which I am sure they will – if you are acquainted with my blog, you will know that I am no stranger to the supernatural. Usually this is because my Mistress has me convinced she could give Sylvia Brown a run for her money, but today this was all me. Or it was Dana Kane. Maybe all Tops are a little (or lot) psychic. I was trying to respond to one of Dana’s blog posts when I got an e-mail from her asking me if I felt like contributing something to her blog written from a female perspective. Coincidence? No one may ever know.
Anyway, here I am. I have an upcoming professional session with Dana ***, and am looking forward to interacting with her in just a few short days. She has generously supplied me with her time via e-mail correspondences and I truly find her quite pleasant. However, I cannot tell if I hope or do not hope that she has the opportunity to spend some time with my Mistress. For the sake of making a new Top friend, that would be splendid, and I know they would get along famously. For the sake of my bottom? I’m a little more fearful.
I am coming to learn that true disciplinarians share similar sentiments. While I have spent some of my free time going over Dana’s writings on her blog, finding them quite relevant and enthralling – I can’t help but admit that I get a little unsettled and sometimes unnerved when she talks about the serious “stuff.”
A hint of panic invaded my being when I read her little piece about excuses, and heard my own Mistress’ voice ringing in my ears. Ah, so there is another Dominant out there who refuses to accept the fact that “tired” is a valid excuse. And traffic – how slighted I felt that one day I did everything right with the exception of taking a precautionary earlier bus to account for any unforeseen road work. How I could not understand my Mistress anger, and even now must brace myself when recalling the incident to avoid becoming too emotional.
Every good intention was thwarted that day by my inability to make a simple and logical choice that would have left both my Mistress and myself in extremely good spirits. Instead, she was quite angry. I was sad. And poor Mistress Mona had to spare my life by keeping me so busy I couldn’t get in the way of the terrible wrath of Domina Nyx. It was truly dreadful. And I wish I understood enough then not to try to justify my inaction with excuse after excuse, truly believing it was a “reason.” I got punished, but it was not her handprint on my face, being denied playing arcade games at the Laundromat, being forced to stand at her side (in between endless chores for Ms. Mona Rogers) until the moment I had to go to bed, or the always present threat of a spanking that had the greatest impact. It was really the grief I felt over having tried so hard, and failed at the last moment, that made the biggest impression. I might have taken it a little to the extreme by showing up 3 hours early to anything important nowadays, but unless the hand of God is literally tugging at the back of my shirt, I will not be late again. If God decides to do this, I truly hope whomever is affected by said event will find this to be a “reason” and not an “excuse.”
Another “post” that struck me was one in which Ms. Kane briefly speaks of accountability. I will admit, I was so taken by this that I closed the entire browser and for the life of me couldn’t find it again when I went to write about it. An hour later (and now officially having read her entire blog but still missing this link) – I resorted to good old google: my best and dearest friend. Quick thinking: “Dana Kane spanking accountability.” Ah, there it is. And here she says: “I feel as though accountability is one of the keys of any successful discipline program. The recounting of misdeeds, while making direct eye contact, is essential.” I had a brief mini-vision and near stroke wondering what it would be like to have to confess something serious to her, forced to look at her and endure the scolding (in that very sweet but strict voice that I am now very familiar with via her free blog videos) that would probably be followed with a spanking. And then I thought of my Mistress, and most recently how I was punished on a car trip. I was, oh here we go…. “Tired.” (Wondering if I could somehow make it the case Dana misses that line)
Anyway, being a self-absorbed child, I decided to pout and keep up an attitude despite repeated warnings – and the fact that I couldn’t come up with one conceivable way I could be immediately spanked on the 5 hour drive. I was pretty sure She wouldn’t come back there and spank me. I didn’t think She would make her other slave pull off to the side of the road for this sole purpose. I felt pretty safe She wouldn’t find a way to do it at the event, in public, despite her sometimes numerous threats to the contrary.
At this point I was consumed with immediate self-gratification, with little regard for my Mistress’ desires. Not because I don’t love her dearly but because I was being a testy, miserable child-creature who was exhausted (having 3 hours less sleep on top of a sleepless night, because I was told the night before not to be even 5 minutes late) and convinced that my bottom was not in immediate danger. That was all that mattered until I was yelled at. “You’re not a child!” She hissed at me. I agreed, in exactly the same manner a child would if the situation made any sense, and responded with a defiant: “I know I’m not a child!” followed by me folding my hands into my chest and pouting so terribly, not even I could take it.
This was the last straw for my Mistress, who demanded I hold out my hand. I was so tired and grumpy that it took me until the first smack that I realized the nature of this command. I screamed a little and withdrew my hand, extending it back ever so slightly when I was told to put it back. I closed my eyes and tried to endure it, but She made me keep them open and look at Her – while keeping my hand steady and in position to be “spanked.” She told me I was being punished and while making me look at Her, asked me to tell Her why.
Really, I was mortified as I had to repeat my infractions and have them met with a smack so hard I was tearing. Suddenly, I did not want to be a child anymore – at least not a misbehaving one. I am not sure if the hardest thing was being hit like I was five, the actual pain, or having to make eye contact to explain that I knew I was being punished and why. When it was over, I retreated into a state of submission and clung to my Mistress in near desperation – as the only comfort I could find was within Her. She offered me Her forgiveness and I offered my gratitude, and things went beautifully until 9 hours later on the car ride home when I really could hardly keep my eyes open despite extra-large coffees, sodas and about 7 caffeine-packed Excedrin. I got my hand smacked again (well both of them actually), and it subdued me for a while, but I got a spanking when we got home – and still have beef jerky welts on my bottom and thighs. (Yes, you read that right. I caution you not to go near any Mistress who has an unopened stick of beef jerky. They may look innocent, but they actually are comparable to canes).
To the point of this: I hate being held accountable, and it’s especially intolerable during a punishment. I agree with Dana, and think it is a vital component of discipline because it teaches and humbles. But I most definitely cannot stand it in the moment. Thank God it is impossible to look at the person spanking you in the eye as you are being spanked. I think I die a little each time I go over my Mistress’ knee, with my bottom completely at Her mercy, being lectured and forced to respond in between strokes. Being made accountable in this way is absolutely mortifying – to be rebuked verbally and then smacked. That’s why sometimes I can’t take it when the spanking is actually over and I throw my head into her lap so She can’t see how She has shamed me. And then all I want to do is spend my life making up for why I was punished – yet I am a repeat offender of common mistakes.
As good intentioned as I am, as much as I love my Mistress, as much as my heart craves submission and to yield to Her within an inch of my life (and sometimes plus the inch) – my will exerts itself in menacing ways, and betrays not only Her, but the person who owns it: me. As sweet and generous and submissive as I can be at times, my nature is a paradox. I don’t want to be punished. I know if I asked Her to spank me because I craved it, needed it – that She would be generous and give it to me. Chances are it will still never happen according to the way I fantasize it might – but at least it would fulfill something I needed. I know I could come to Her and that because She understands my need for discipline, emotional releases and the like (not to mention the fact She is a true sexual sadist) that there is no need for reservations about this.
What I do have is lack of opportunity because I am so frequently spanked, and that definitely makes all forms of spanking aversive – even the kind I used to enjoy. She is so strict about discipline that I have no room to breathe or seek this out on my own terms. Even when I am good – my behavior isn’t consistent to the point where I begin to develop the desire to be spanked within my own physical and psychological jurisdiction. And I have never had a Mistress who used humiliation constructively and so completely against me (by taking me over Her knee against my will and making references to the fact I am bad and act like a child and need to be spanked… and much worse)that it almost becomes worse than the spanking itself. It is amazing what a few embarrassing words can do for an already lacking pain tolerance – especially when they are so manipulated they serve a dual purpose: to make me feel shamed, and to hold me accountable – which by now we all know, I hate.
But I don’t think being accountable is something many people like, and really Dana touched on a very exposed nerve with her post and her examples – all of which I am guilty of. Except I do not have what it takes yet to hold myself accountable, and so I need my Mistress, and indeed She is a source of motivation. On the one hand lies the desire to please, and on the other, to avoid punishment. This whole accountability thing, which I have written so many times now that it’s starting to rattle me, is really the reason I sought out a D/s relationship in the first place and have been seeking them since as long as I could remember. But the whole games changes when one finds that person who can get the job done no matter what the hell you do to avoid it. Part of me is so rebellious because I didn’t think it was an actual possibility in real life. I never had to take it seriously because it didn’t exist. I suppose it boils down to this: I never truly thought that I was punishable – which made me a target for abusive relationships.
Honestly, and regrettably, something about abuse is often easier to tolerate. There is no accountability in abuse. But there is when your Mistress takes you over Her knee like an insecure child, spanks you until you can’t sit down while turning your ass and your face the same shade of red – and then even worse, loving you, genuinely, when it is over. Holding you. Stroking your hair. Wiping the tears. Offering you restitution. Cradling the will She has subdued because She has no interest in murdering your spirit, but taming it so that it ceases to do damage – and refusing to give up because She believes in what She does. This is why I revere my Mistress, although I am not sure She knows or even if I have ever told Her in quite this way. But it’s very powerful for me. I am still coming to terms with the fact that She exists. She thinks I am joking when I say this to Her. But I am not.
All that being said, I am looking forward to my first meeting with Ms. Dana Kane – whom, remarkably, I had been missing for a long time. My apologies, but since I have found my Mistress, there has been no need for me to search the Internet in hopes that someone like Her existed (like I said, still waiting on confirmation She is real).
But it was much to my delight when I discovered Dana’s blog (and that she exists, too), and her contests, and when I heard such nice things about her. It is wonderful to find that more Tops out there exist who share this same spirit of discipline, love and play – and that they are willing to so openly share this with others. To me, this is part of the reason I write my blog – not only for my Mistress and myself, but for others who are truly interested in real life D/s relationships. These are in depth entries – they are really gifts. I have considered Dana’s blog a gift -those words of wisdom she shares, along with the stories of those she disciplines, her accolades for other spanking/discipline enthusiasts, her free videos, the fact that she offers spanking “prizes” – it’s really pretty amazing to me. And I thank her, on behalf of myself and all the others who may want to thank her but haven’t yet (because they are “busy” or “tired” or “stuck in traffic” or even just “shy.”)
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: Fouettard’s Academy – Part Two



Readers,


I am pleased to share part two of Fouettard’s Academy, ‘Behavioural Literacy’, from the generous and talented UK Laureate. Fouettard’s Academy is a piece of genuine F/M Spanking Fiction worthy of bound print, and will appear here in four parts. 
Many thanks again to UKL (and readers, please encourage more reader-submitted content by either commenting or clicking ‘love it’ at the bottom of each story post. They really do notice and appreciate the feedback).

More from the UK Laureate:
Fouettard’s Academy: Part One

The Governess Makes a Discovery
The Ballad of Lord Hazlemere
The Blue Umbrella

Enjoy!


– Dana






Fouettard’s Academy: (2) Behavioural Literacy


By session five even the new boys had become acutely aware of the need to smarten up their behaviour, and the effect of the ‘special measures’ employed by Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane when they failed to do so. However, habits and behaviours developed over thirty or more years were not easily corrected, and even those who tried hard – which, in truth, not all of them did – found the going tough.

“I’m glad to see you all back here again this morning,” Mrs Armstrong greeted them, “and I look forward to seeing what progress you have made. However, before we get into looking at your reports, I want to talk to you about a concept that you may find helpful. It’s called ‘behavioural literacy’.”

A few of the guys passed quizzical looks at each other, but Mrs Armstrong continued unabashed. “I trust you are all well aware of the so-called three R’s – reading, writing and ‘rithmetic. These were the things you first learnt at school when you were small boys. They are three of the skills that everybody needs to be able to make their way in life successfully. Over the years people have come to recognise that there are also other basic skills that you need. You may have heard of the term ‘emotional literacy’, At its most simple, it means the ability to express your feelings in words, such as “I feel happy” or “I feel sad”. Being able to identify our feelings and communicate them is really important.

“I feel confused – my head’s hurting”, said Fleming aloud. 

“Very good, Fleming,” said Mrs Armstrong, ignoring what she recognised was intended to be a complaint, “you’re getting the idea.”

“The more emotionally literate you become, the greater your emotional intelligence,” she continued, “and the more emotionally intelligent your are, the better are your relationships. However, whilst anything we do here that improves your emotional literacy and intelligence is good, it is not the prime purpose of this Academy. As you know, our emphasis here is on behaviour, and the task that Ms Kane and I are engaged in is improving your behavioural literacy. Just as the ability to read and write is something that has to be learned, so also the difference between good and bad behaviour has to be learned. That is why we set you the task of writing about your behaviour. The link between literature, or writing, and behaviour is a strong one. By putting things down in black and white, using your own words, you are forced to confront your behaviour more starkly.”


(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below, to see the full story. – Dana)


Her lecture continued. How much notice the boys were taking only they knew, but they were forced from their lethargy when Mrs Armstrong started questioning them about books they had read, and the qualities they considered necessary for a writer to be labelled as ‘great’.

“Being able to tell a good story that gets you hooked,” Austen suggested.

“Not just that, something that reflects on real life,” Dickens argued.

“I disagree, I like fantasy stories best,” said Potter.
“We’re well aware of that, Potter,” said Ms Kane. “What you write in your reports is much nearer fantasy than fact. I think you’re rather missing the point.”

The discussion continued. Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane were pleased to see all of the boys contributing, but time constraints meant they needed to move on and get on with writing their weekly behaviour report. Julia and Dana opened and read the wives’ reports and, as usual, were shocked and disappointed by what they read. They also kept an eye on the boys, and noticed that Wilde appeared to have finished writing very quickly, and decided he should be the focus of the first comparison.

“We’re going to start with our friend Mr Wilde,” Ms Kane announced. “For some reason he doesn’t seem to have written much. So, what do you have to say for yourself, Wilde, how has your behaviour been this week?”

Wilde stood up, as was the custom at Fouettard’s when the boys were being examined. “I have nothing to declare,” he said boldly, “in my earnest opinion I have been an ideal husband.”

“What?” Ms Kane questioned him angrily, “are you trying to be funny? The report from your wife is one of the worst I have ever seen, and you have the audacity to stand there and claim you are innocent of all charges. I think you are likely to be having a long detention at the end of today. I’ll hand over to Mrs Armstrong to inform you of your wife’s comments.”

Mrs Armstrong too was infuriated at Wilde’s claim. “According to your wife, who I fully believe, she came in one evening to find you wearing items of her underwear and engaged in what I can only describe as a grossly indecent act. She also says that you have been inattentive to her needs and feelings and have simply responded to what she has asked of you with some smart-ass comments, all of which has made her feel like a woman of no importance. She says she is at her wits end with you. What do you say to that, Wilde?” Mrs Armstrong’s face and tone were illustrative of her indignant anger at the man’s arrogance.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, I do not consider it my fault if my wife has too little sense of humour and does not appreciate my wit. The problem is hers, not mine.”

“We’ll see about who has the problem when I deal with you later today. I’m awarding you one hundred demerits. Sit down, be quiet and contemplate your fate.”

Wilde was not pleased and considered such a harsh sentence most unjust, but knew it was pointless to argue with Mrs Armstrong’s authority, so he remained silent as the focus shifted to Dickens.

Female underwear appeared to be the recurring theme of the day, as in his report Dickens admitted that he had been caught rifling through his wife’s lingerie drawer. Somehow the same old curiosity overcame him, he said, and that he had had a hard time with his wife as a result. She had warned him that the outlook for their marriage was bleak if he continued his obsession.

If his words were intended to elicit sympathy from Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane his hopes were short-lived. “I’m very disappointed hear this report,” Mrs Armstrong began. “Last week your report was much more promising and I had great expectations of you, Dickens, that your behaviour was improving. It seems that is by no means the case.  I’m awarding you fifty demerits and our mutual friend Ms Kane will deal with you accordingly later in the day.”

After a short lunch break the process of examining the boys’ behaviour continued. Austen was first to report. He confessed he had been short-tempered when his wife, Emma, had refused his advances, preferring instead to continue reading a romantic novel, her favourite genre. The thought that she found a book more appealing than the ‘real thing’ with him had hurt his pride and he had stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. It was only in retrospect that he had realised that his actions didn’t make much sense. The following evening he had adopted a different approach, using what he thought was subtle persuasion, but that hadn’t worked either. By the end of the week this had led to a fierce row in which he had accused her of being a ‘miserable uptight bitch’. He admitted he had been out of order.

Mrs Armstrong looked at him and shook her head. “Austen, my first impressions of you were that you were a decent man,” she said, “and in many ways I still believe that. I give you credit for admitting your fault, and your story coincides with much of what your wife has reported. However, you must learn that bad temper and unkind and unjustified words are not acceptable, and though I can see that your pride was hurt, that must not prejudice the award of punishment. You will have twenty-five demerits.”

Next it was Wordsworth’s turn to be examined. By way of a prelude, he thanked Mrs Armstrong and Ms Kane for their attention, saying that he recognised the value of their instruction. “I know I must seem perverse and that there’s no rhyme or reason to the things I do,” he said, adding that he was attempting to be more sensible and down to earth. However, he admitted that during the past week he had almost caused an accident by his careless driving when he and Mary were out the previous Sunday, that he had risked setting the kitchen on fire by forgetting to turn off the chip-pan, and had carelessly knocked over a vase of daffodils, breaking one of his wife’s favourite vases in the process.

Ms Kane addressed him. “It’s clear to all of us, Wordsworth, that you are a dreamer, and my view is that while your actions appear to be due to carelessness, there is also a wilful disregard for your responsibilities. You must recognise the worry and distress this causes your wife. I hope you can imagine how you would feel if the tables were turned. Accordingly, it is my duty to help you to be more mindful of your responsibilities, and I have just acquired an excellent ‘no-holes-barred’ paddle that is ideal for this purpose. You also are awarded twenty-five demerits.”

As Fleming stood up to make his report he was mindful that the demerit awards this week seemed particularly harsh. He certainly didn’t consider that Wordsworth deserved twenty-five. However, his concern was more for himself than his fellow student. He knew that he had transgressed badly, and feared the worst. He had debated with himself whether he should report the whole truth or minimise it, and had opted for the latter in the hope that his wife’s report would not be too severe.

“I’m afraid I didn’t do too well this week,” he began. “I had a week away from the office and was supposed to be redecorating our bedroom, but you know how hot it has been. Our next-door neighbour was sunbathing in her garden and I must admit I was wishing I was relaxing in the garden rather than working. Then I had an idea for a story and spent some time writing that. It was intended for my eyes only but unfortunately my wife found it, so she knew why not much decorating had been achieved. She had quite a go at me and I told her you only live once and it’s important to enjoy yourself, not just work all the time. That made her even more mad at me and she went in for the kill and kicked me in the.. er.. er.. where it hurts. I told her I might need to go to the doctor but she said no, just live with it. So all in all it wasn’t a very good week.”

“Fleming, in addition to the story you wrote, and I’ll come to that in a moment, the story you have just told is one of the most fanciful and implausible I have ever heard,” said Mrs Armstrong, her brow deeply furrowed. “You refer, rightly, to your neighbour sunbathing. Accordingly to your wife, the neighbour you refer to was in fact the daughter of their visitors from Russia, who was sunbathing in a rather skimpy bikini, as she had every right to do. What she did not need was you spying on her from your upstairs room. Further, your wife tells me that she spoke to your neighbour, and was told that the girl had seen you spying on her through a pair of binoculars. What kind of impression of this country do you think she has now? And then there’s this story that you referred to. No wonder you didn’t want your wife to see it! A graphic account of you being seduced by the bikini-clad girl and what you then got up to. As if she would be interested in bonding with you – you flatter yourself, Fleming. I’ll spare the class any further details but suffice to say I have noted them and the matter will be reflected in your punishment. One hundred demerits, and count that a lucky escape – I was inclined to give you more.”

Fleming sat down ruefully, reflecting that, on this occasion, his strategy had misfired. It wasn’t like this in the movies. He was not looking forward to the end of the day.

Finally, attention turned to Potter. He too was not looking forward to the admission he had to make. Since his days at boarding school he had had a penchant for pornography, and had recently acquired some new material that he normally kept hidden away in a secret chamber at the back of his closet. Unfortunately for him the material was in the living room when his fiancée, Joanne, had called unexpectedly. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen the worst (or is that the best?) of it, but had seen enough to be upset. His excuse that it was only the stuff of fantasy had fallen on deaf ears and she had made it plain that he must get rid of it well before their wedding. The consequent tension between them had not been eased the following evening when he had forgotten to meet her after her weekly hockey practice. ‘Henry, this behaviour spells trouble for our marriage,’ she had told him in an irate phone-call. “I know she is right,” Potter admitted to Ms Kane and Mrs Armstrong who were studying him intently, “but I’m sure I can work my charms and make things alright.”

It was Ms Kane who responded. “You too, Potter, like Fleming, seem to spend half your life in a world of fantasy. If I was your fiancée, perish the thought, I would be extremely dubious about marrying you. It’s time you got to grips with the real world, and fast. Meanwhile, as I said to Wordsworth a little earlier, I have just the thing to help you. Since you seem to like things to do with sorcery, I shall wave my magic wand, otherwise known as a cane, in the direction of your backside. Your award today is fifty demerits.”

Gloom filled the room as the end of the day and ‘special measures’ time drew near. As Mrs Armstrong had pointed out, between them the six students had amassed a grand total of three hundred and fifty demerits, which she said was the highest number ever. “Perhaps it is fortunate that we are only halfway through our course,” she said, “because it is clear that all of you boys have a great deal of improvement to make.”

One by one the boys were called in to see Mrs Armstrong or Ms Kane for their allotted punishments. Paddles whacked, straps cracked and canes swished, leaving each of the miscreants with extremely sore and tender bottoms, especially Fleming and Wilde who, on account of their one hundred demerits, each received twenty-four strokes of the cane. 

“I’m not sure if my lecture on behavioural literacy fell on deaf ears,” Julia said to Dana as they tidied up after the session. “When will these boys ever grow up and learn to behave like the responsible men they are supposed to be?”

“It takes time, Julia,” Dana replied. “Don’t write them off. I’m sure the help we give them is having an effect. When they sit down and reflect – of course they can’t do that right now,” she said, a big smile spreading across her face, “they will see the error of their ways. And if not, well, we’ll just have to go on providing them with some more of our special encouragement.”

To be continued.


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Fantastic Red Rump Artwork

The wonderfully talented Red Rump has been kind enough to gift me with this exclusive image to adorn the walls of my new playspace – just in time for my birthday! – and I couldn’t help but share it here, too (with his permission, naturally). 
I am completely enamored of the somehow innocent-looking danger that this woman imposes.


Thank you, RR, she is going to look smashing just above my basket of canes!


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Prepunishment Journal: The VBB

The Very Bad Boy  will submit his Prepunishment Journal entries for the next few weeks, until the time of our meeting to discuss his recent misbehavior with his Wonderful Wife. Again he has kindly offered (with her consent, naturally) to share his journals and thoughts with readers. I am grateful for their candor and willingness to offer their example to others with like minds. 


– Dana




In his words:






For those of us who have chosen a DD lifestyle the purpose of giving or receiving a Spanking is for discipline and the correcting of undesirable behavior. While Some couples who live in a DD relationship may enjoy integrating some
Spanking play into their foreplay and may even participate in role play. The primary purpose of a Spanking is for discipline and correction. Thus, the goal of a DD Spanking is to inflict as much pain as necessary in order to produce a change in behavior and or attitude. The experience is often not enjoyable for the HoH and defiantly not enjoyable for the one who is taken in hand, but it is often necessary for the continuation of harmony within the relationship. The advantage of living in a DD relationship is once a transgression is acknowledged and punishment is given and received; the transgression is forgotten and the relationship is able to return to normal.

In about 24 days I will have atoned for my indiscretion, forgiveness will be granted and restoration will take place. However, before that takes place, I must face two tremendously capable dominate disciplinarians. Who are united in their effort to impress upon me the unacceptability of my behavior and to unmistakably drive home the understanding that they will not tolerate any more of my sneaky and dishonest behavior. I have not seen in my wife the level of determination which I see in her now. There is no doubt in my mind that she is completely committed to ensuring this is the last time I engage in sneaky and dishonest behavior. This same determination is clearly echoed by Ms. Kane in her correspondences. I imagine this determination to rid me of this sneaky and dishonest behavior will only increase as they continue to discuss and plan my disciplinary session. I truthfully do not look forward to kneeling before the two of them and having to give an
honest accounting of my behavior. The menacing tone of the room will only add to the inevitable sense of doom which I will feel as I await the pronouncement of my punishment. There will be no laughing or joking this time around. The jovial spirit which has come to define our previous two sessions will be replaced with a solemn and unwavering determination to make certain I do not engage in such sneaky and dishonest behavior again. I only wish I had thought about this before I decided to engage in my sneaky and dishonest behavior. I really wish I had stopped to think through the consequence the second time I chose to repeat my behavior. However, I chose to ignore the possible ramifications of my behavior and gambled on the fact that she would not find out. Well now I am waiting for another disciplinary session with Ms. Kane, but this time around my wife will be joining in. I guess I really came up as the loser on this one. But that is why I do not play
poker because I am too easy to read and I am a terrible bluffer.

*****


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New Survey: What makes us tick – and tingle?

Readers,


Here is a quick new question/answer survey – please take a minute to include your thoughts, anonymously of course, and I will share the results of the survey in an upcoming post.


– Dana

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Loading…&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

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Conversations with Spankos: Chapter Two



Readers,


While we will eventually cover all sorts of fun and light-hearted spanko themes, I would like to follow ‘Chapter One: Isolation’ with another somewhat serious subject that’s come up time and again. Just today, I heard yet another story about an unfortunately common theme…




Chapter Two:  The Bad Scene


What interests me is not that they occur; not every coming-together-of-spankos is guaranteed to be spectacular. The matter for discussion, or explanation, is this:


Why would one allow a bad spanking to continue? 


I have seen good, honest, loving people throw a hissy fit in the middle of an upscale restaurant over a side dish mix-up. I have seen placid, vegan hippies yell themselves hoarse in the checkout line over discrepancies of less than a dollar. I’ve also witnessed the demise of life-long friendships over the failure to return a telephone call.
We are all so very willing to defend ourselves against any perceived insult, aren’t we?


Maybe not. Not when it comes to spanking. I have yet to hear someone end a Bad Scene story by saying “And I got up, right in the middle of it, and walked right out of there.”


What I HAVE heard:


“Well, I was there…and I really wanted to give/get a spanking.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her/his feelings.”
“I thought maybe it would get better after a while.”
“I didn’t want to look like a pus*y.”
“I was so shocked that I didn’t know what do do or say.”


Help me out here. I want to understand why we tolerate over-compensating tops, bossy bottoms, pushy party players, body odor, terrible chemistry, and spankings bordering-on-assault-and-battery? 
Why not get up, right in the middle of it, and walk right out of there?


– Dana






Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Contest: ‘My Birthday Spanking’


‘My Birthday Spanking’ – Story Contest
 



Since my birthday is in October, I thought that it would be fun to conduct a writing contest with the theme ‘My Birthday Spanking’. Your entry may be a true story or a work of fiction, and as always, the winner will receive a free spanking session with me.




A few guidelines:


–  All characters must be of legal age (18+), and references to childhood (under 18) spankings kept to a minimum, please.


–  Refrain from overtly sexual situations and language. (If you feel as though the artistic merit of your piece would be lowered by leaving out the saucy language, imagine how it’ll look after I and my asterisks have had our way with it. Save us both some trouble, and save the sextalk for the Penthouse Forum.)


–  Your birthday spanking story (self-titling is encouraged) may consist of as many or as few characters as you see fit (and does not have to include me, by the way), and may take place in any time, place, or manner you choose. Tell about your best, worst, longest, funniest, or most romantic birthday spanking – use your imagination!
(There is also no restriction on gender for these contests, or the characters in your entries. Most of my contest submissions are F/M spanking stories, but M/F, F/F, and M/M are equally encouraged and enjoyed.)


–  Please use pseudonyms for yourself and any other real-life people you may include in your story.


–  The contest will be open to all entrants throughout the month of October, 2011. All accepted entries will be posted/excerpted publicly – your submission is your agreement to share the story, here and on other publishing platforms.




– The winner will be chosen by me, subjectively and arbitrarily, and at my sole discretion. The ‘prize’ may be collected in any of the cities in which I have planned upcoming travel, as well as my new home city of Las Vegas.


–  If you are unable to ‘collect’ the prize due to location or other circumstance, but would still like to enter your story, please do submit your entry as a ‘non-contestant’.




For more details, and to submit your entry, email:


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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My Birthday / Housewarming – Help me decorate!



Readers,


As you know, I’ve moved into my new home in Las Vegas, and am having a great time making myself comfy in the new space.  Except that it’s three times the size of my little Hollywood hideaway…a high-quality problem, no doubt.


And did I mention that I am turning thirty-nine this month (October)? This is also, in my opinion, a high-quality problem.


In honor of these two semi-monumental occasions, I am throwing open the doors on my Amazon.com wishlist. Those of you with an abundance of cash to which you have no emotional attachments are encouraged to participate freely. 

If you’d like to purchase a mirror (the better for reflecting you with, my dear..) or a nice, high-backed chair for some serious OTK, click HERE.



If you’re more interested in wardrobe than decor, and would love to buy a near-stranger (that would be me…size 8) some hot, red pumps (or slippers…), click HERE.

If you can’t care less what I buy with it – or if you just cannot decide between the thirty dollar apron (which matches the shoes perfectly, I might add) and the four-hundred dollar chaise lounge – buy a gift card HERE and call it a day.

If you’re a traditionalist, you’ve come to the right place: send flowers HERE.


If you’re offended that I have the audacity to encourage gift-giving…relax. I’ll only keep the links posted throughout the month of October – one month – it’ll be over before you know it. And just for fun, click HERE.


– Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Conversations with Spankos: Chapter One



I have such great conversations with my fellow spankos and playmates; sometimes we are discussing our differences, but most often it is our commonalities which receive the most attention. It seems as though certain themes (the ‘spanko commons’, I guess you could call them) come up time and time again..


I’d like to take the opportunity to discuss some of these common themes here, and sort of continue the dialogues which I have enjoyed so much with like-minded friends. While I’ll never divulge personal information, obviously, many of you will still certainly recognize these conversations as similar to those you’ve had yourselves.


It seems like a lot to digest all at once, and these talks, themes, and ideas come up so randomly sometimes, that I think it will be fun to write about them a little at a time. Of course, since the title is ‘Conversations with Spankos’, I will encourage readers to share their opinions, experiences, and thoughts – the idea (as is nearly always the case with this blog) is to better know and understand myself and my fellow spanking enthusiasts.

*****



Chapter One: Isolation




Today, one of my new playmates asked me to thank Erica Scott for writing her book, ‘Late Bloomer’. He said that he read it “cover to cover” and felt as though there were many times that she could just as easily have been telling his story, too.


This is such a common thread for us, isn’t it? How many of us spent years wondering why and where and when the spanking urges came..and what the hell to do about them? Before the age of the internet, there was simply too much distance between closed doors. People don’t tell their neighbors about their fetish, and they certainly don’t tell their families or closest friends. So, until the near-anonymity of the internet made us able to reach halfway across the world and touch someone in cyberspace, there really was very little alternative for most of us. Isolation was part and parcel for most.
(I should say here that a great deal of credit for bringing spankos out of the dark before the true internet age must be given to the good people behind Shadow Lane. I cannot tell you how many of my correspondents have named Tony, Eve, and Shadow Lane’s newsletter -delivered by the good, old U.S. Postal Service!-  as their saving grace, proof that they were neither aberrant nor alone.)


Many fetishists spend large parts of their adult lives unpartnered – simply because they are unable to find and fall mutually in love with someone who shares or empathizes with their interests.  Many others enter into long-term, otherwise loving relationships with partners who neither share nor empathize – and must learn to somehow hide or avoid their urges (as one friend recently said “…because it doesn’t ever go away.”). And then there are the lucky few who have either a fellow spanko as their life partner, or someone who loves and understands them enough to make allowances.


We do not fit neatly into most common relationship structures, especially in love. As difficult as love is for ‘vanilla’ folk…what does that mean for us? Is isolation as common among spankos as it seems?


– Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The Very Bad Boy – New Journal, and Writing Assignment


Readers,

The Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife contacted me this week regarding some recent unfortunate behavior on the part of the VBB. As many of you are aware, the Very Bad Boy tries very hard to behave…and usually succeeds. His Wonderful Wife, in her infinite patience, doles out regular maintenance and discipline spankings, and occasionally calls on me for a ‘helping hand’. 
This incident involves sneaky behavior on the part of the VBB – something he’s been guilty of (and punished for) in the past, and something that will not be tolerated anymore by his WW.
After contacting me and arranging a punishment session, where his WW and I will both do our best to modify his behavior, he offered to share his pre-punishment journal here. While I was pleased by his offer, I decided that his recent behavior warranted just a little more.
I assigned him something more substantial, and much less enjoyable, since he seems so amenable to writing…
One hundred times, neatly handwritten:

“I have disappointed my wife and Ms. Kane. I know that punishment is necessary. I deserve this.”

“I have disappointed my wife and Ms. Kane. I know that punishment is necessary. I deserve this.”

To his credit, they arrived quite promptly, within twenty-four hours…


“100 for Ms. Kane”

..along with the extra 100 lines that his Wife added after he told her about his assignment. Genius.

100 for the WW

– Dana

*****
Below, the Very Bad Boy’s first pre-punishment journal entry:


Webster defines the word estimate as “to judge tentatively or approximately the value, worth, or significance of” thus to underestimate is to “misjudge tentatively or approximately the value, worth, or significance of”. Throughout my life time I have underestimated many things some small and some big. Some things did not really matter while others carried significant consequences. I do not think I have underestimated any thing this significant in a long time. Certainly the consequences of underestimating my Wife and Ms. Kane’s reaction to my recent behavior ranks among the biggest underestimations I have made.
I underestimated the consequences of my recent behavior; I thought I could simply get away with defying my wife’s rule and then not telling her what I did. I almost did, until I did it for the second time and my guilt was such that she could tell I had done something wrong. It did not take her long to get me to confess what I had done.
I underestimated my wife’s response to my confession, thinking I would just receive a normal OTK and maybe at worst some strokes with the cane. What I did not anticipate was my wife telling me that we were going to make an appointment with Ms. Kane so the two of them can properly deal with my behavior.
I underestimated Ms. Kane’s response to my E-mail that I sent outlining what I had done and requesting on behalf of my wife that the two of them deal with my behavior with a disciplinary session. I thought she would respond by saying that my behavior was not really that bad and did not warrant a disciplinary session. After reading her reply to my E-mail I knew I had underestimated her response.
I underestimated my wife’s resolve in taking me to see Ms. Kane for another disciplinary session. I honestly did not think she would really decide that my behavior was such that it would require another visit to Ms. Kane for a disciplinary session. Well now that we have an appointment to see Ms. Kane next month I realize that I greatly underestimated my wife. It really sunk in when she told me “Do you really think I am going to let you fall back into your old habits?”
I underestimated Ms. Kane’s response to what I considered was a small humorous comment in one of my E-mail responses to her. Apparently she did not find it as amusing as I did. Her response was to inform me that I was to hand write 100 times “I have disappointed my wife and Ms. Kane. I know that punishment is necessary. I deserve this.” I certainly underestimated my wife’s response when I told her what I had to do as she replied “Good you can do 100 for Dana and 100 for me.”  I underestimated how much a hand can cramp while writing 200 sentences, although I did not underestimate how boring writing 200 sentences can be.
I do know one thing I am not going to underestimate what the disciplinary session is going to be like next month and I am not going to underestimate the consequences if I choose to misbehave again.  

*****



Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Art Blogs

 


  Red Rump 

First, take a look at the banner for Red Rump’s blog:



I nearly feel as though I needn’t say anything more.

Come to think of it, I won’t. I’ll just let his art speak for itself:

(Amazing, isn’t it?)

*****
More F/M Spanking Artists:



  Underlings Humblings


 Underling writes saucy stories to go along with his often-animated digital art. Underling uses different genres and styles to achieve some really exceptional artwork, and the stories are always detailed and articulate.




  Banjo’s BBS


 Apparently, Banjo is back. Being somewhat new to the spanking blogosphere, I wasn’t aware that he’d gone – but after taking a look at his artwork, I’m as happy as everyone else to see his return to F/M spanking art. If you are unfamiliar with Banjo as I was, do yourself a favor and take a look around the blog – his artwork is really fantastic. 
(Thanks to all the other bloggers who made me aware of Banjo and his blogsite – you all are a veritable font of spanking knowledge!)




Poser CP Art


I’ve written about Poser and his art before, but it’s never too soon to revisit his excellent  spanking art blog. F/M, M/F, and F/F content – and some really impressive graphic novels.

*****

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Trust



When trying to think of something tangible to demonstrate the basic concept of trust here, I naturally thought of something that we’ve probably all seen, at least on television..

..the ‘trust game’.
 

One person allows him or herself to fall backward from some height, trusting that the people standing behind will catch them, like so:

 
 
This is an excellent demonstration of trust, not only of the ‘faller’ but of the ‘catchers’ as well. 
The faller must trust that everyone behind him will stand the proper distance apart, with arms properly extended and knees properly braced for absorbing his weight. He must trust that one or more of them will not step away at the last second, from fear or reflex or plain meanness. He must also trust that this little experiment works…because he’s seen it on television, too.
The people standing behind are usually not considered in this part of the equation, but I believe that they are putting just as much trust in the faller as he is putting in them.  The catchers must trust that the faller will not panic and fling out his arms and legs dangerously; they must trust that the people around them will not step away, leaving them with an impossible burden; they must even trust that, in the event of an unfortunate accident, the faller will not single them out for his misfortune.
 
*****
 
You may be wondering what my point is. And then again, you may not..
not if you’re a spanko.
 
We invest an immense amount of trust in one another, tops and bottoms, playmates and buddies.
 
 
If you’re one of my playmates, you’ve likely received a hearty ‘Thank You!’ from me – for the trust that you’ve placed in me, in so many ways. I simply cannot say it enough.
 
(And while most of you tend more to flop forward than fall back, it is always my distinct pleasure to catch you.)
 
If you’re a contributor to this blog, you’ve trusted me with your thoughts, writings, artworks, and opinions. If you’re a reader, you’ve trusted me with your time. Thank you. Thank you. 
Thank you.
 
– Dana
*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New F/M Spanking Story: Fouettard’s Academy


Readers,

I am always happy to be able to share a piece of spanking fiction  from one of my favorite author/contributors, UK Laureate – and this time is no exception. He’s spared no detail in setting another excellent scene in ‘Fouettard’s Academy: First Day of Term’.  Enjoy!


– Dana
More from UK Laureate:
The Governess Makes a Discovery

(Be sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text, to display the full story.)




*****


Fouettard’s Academy: (1) First Day of Term

It was the first day of term at Fouettard’s Academy. Established for almost two years, it had quickly become popular, so much so that there was competition for the six places available each term. Even the founder, Mrs Armstrong, had been surprised how many naughty boys there were out there and at the demand from wives and girlfriends who needed their husbands and boyfriends ‘re-educated’. Husbands and boyfriends? Yes, Fouettard’s was an academy for naughty adult males – “my boys” as Mrs Armstrong liked to refer to them!

Julia Armstrong had developed the Academy based on her experience of retraining her own husband, Brian, over a number of years but also, more particularly, on conversations with female friends who were full of complaints about their husbands’ behaviour but unable to change matters. Nagging, they had found, bore little fruit. What Mrs Armstrong understood was that, despite their appearance, the majority of men remain, essentially, small boys, and that the methods employed in educating and training young boys at school can also be used effectively with adult boys. Never shy to tackle challenges, Mrs Armstrong determined that if no one else would take action, she would.

She chose the name Fouettard’s, based on the French legend that St. Nicholas, patron saint of children and the origin of children leaving out stockings at Christmas in the hope of getting a present, was accompanied by a rough character named Père Fouettard, whose job was to punish children who had misbehaved during the year. Of course Père would be entirely wrong given her belief in female dominance and she considered substituting Madame, but opted for using only the surname. She thought it sounded delightfully exotic and classy.

Fouettard’s was organised on the basis of four blocks or terms of ten weeks per year, with sessions held each Saturday during term-time. Due to limitations of space, but also to the amount of time needed to work on an individual as well as group basis, only six pupils were admitted each term. 

At each Saturday session the guys were required to bring with them a sealed envelope containing a report from their wife or partner about their behaviour during the previous week – or, at the start of term, on their longer-term behaviour that had caused them to be enrolled. These were handed in to Mrs Armstrong at the start of the day. During the morning the errant males were required to write their own report on their behaviour, and then, for the remainder of the day these reports were read aloud, discussed, and judged by Mrs Armstrong.




She, of course, had the female perspective, both her own and the wives’ reports, and used this information to guide the discussions and help the boys understand their failings. She also maintained a ‘demerits’ scoring system, linked to what she liked to refer to as ‘special measures’ to persuade the boys of the error of their ways. At the end of each term an assessment was made for each individual to determine whether a further period of training was required.

And so it was that on this particular first day of term, three of the pupils were new, and three were returners, one of which, Wordsworth, was back for a third term.

Having welcomed them to the Academy and collected the envelopes they had brought, Mrs Armstrong set about the introduction to their training. 

“I cannot stress enough that you are here to learn. In some ways it is regrettable that there is a need for Fouettard’s Academy to exist. However, the standard of behaviour of the average male is such that, in truth, there should be more Academies like mine, more opportunities for boys like you to learn how to behave in ways that are acceptable and pleasing to women. ‘Opportunity’. That is the important word for you to remember. If I feel that you are using the opportunity given you to good advantage, you will find me positively charming. If, however, I feel that you are resistant to changing your behaviour, then you will discover just how harsh I can be in persuading you otherwise. 

I do, of course, require absolute obedience to my instructions, and you will find out quickly that I do not tolerate questioning of my authority, any form of rudeness or childish stupidity, and am not impressed by the seemingly limitless pathetic excuses that you boys seem capable of inventing. And remember always that what I teach you is for your own good, to enable you to enjoy full and harmonious relationships with your wives, partners and girlfriends.”

“But just don’t tell your wife about your girlfriend,” quipped Ernie Wilde, one of the new boys. The somewhat sombre atmosphere created by Mrs Armstrong’s lecture was broken in an instant as smirks and laughter engulfed the room.

Mrs Armstrong was not amused. “Silence!” she roared. “How dare you make facetious comments, Wilde. You are clearly not taking what I say seriously. On your first day here I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take your trousers down and spank you in front of the class, would you?”

“No, Miss” said Wilde, whose pleasure at what he regarded as a rather clever comment quickly turned to embarrassment at the thought of being treated like a small boy.

“What did you say, Wilde?”

“I said no Miss.”

“How dare you!” Mrs Armstrong thundered. When you address me you will call me Ma’am. I am not a Miss, and as you will find out, when I deal with naughty boys I am extremely accurate. I certainly do not miss. Is that not so Wordsworth?”

“Er, yes Ma’am,” agreed Wordsworth hurriedly. A truly recalcitrant boy, he had only escaped a spanking, strapping or caning on two of the twenty sessions he had attended over the previous two terms. Mrs Armstrong even wondered if he actually enjoyed being punished, but was determined to persevere.

“Oh, and by the way, Wilde, notice that I said that you will find out, not that you may. No boy at this school has yet managed to avoid my ‘special measures’, and I am totally confident that you will not be the first. Your impertinence has been noted, and I shall be keeping a very strict eye on you.”

“Nothing new there then,” Dickens, who was sitting next to Wilde, whispered under his breath. Oliver Dickens was another recidivist, back for his second term. His claim to fame, if it can be referred to thus, was that he had set a new record for the most strokes of the cane awarded to any boy in one term.

“What was that, Dickens?” asked Mrs Armstrong, whose hearing was as sharp as her tongue, and almost as sharp as her right hand. “If you have something to say, boy, say it so that we can all hear.”

“Oh I just said to Ernie that it was clear he was new here, Ma’am.” Whatever Dickens lacked in other ways was compensated by his speed of thought.

Mrs Armstrong frowned. “I’m not sure I believe you, Dickens, and in addition such comment was entirely unwarranted. I’m awarding you five demerits.”

“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” said Dickens, reflecting again how often he spoke without thinking, something that continued to exasperate his wife, and one of the reasons she had insisted on enrolling him at Fouettard’s in the first place.

“Which brings me nicely to the topic of our demerits system,” announced Mrs Armstrong, smiling. It was noticeable how, in an instant, her mood had changed, and her tone expressed her enthusiasm for the topic. “Of course those of you who have returned to the academy are only too aware of our system, and you will sit quietly while I explain matters to our three new boys,” she continued. “Potter, Fleming and Wilde, I advise you to listen very carefully to what I have to say.”

“I shall, of course, monitor your behaviour during the day, and any action or comment that occasions my displeasure is likely to earn you a number of demerits, or an immediate punishment. However, the main award of demerits will come from any disparity between what you report to me about your behaviour and the report I have received from your wife or partner. ‘Sins of omission’, as I like to call them, where you fail to make any mention of something included in your wife’s report, automatically earn you demerits, the number of which will be determined by how serious I regard the behaviour in question. Where you mention a wrongdoing, but have made an inappropriate or inadequate response, this will normally earn a lesser number of demerits. At the end of each Academy session I will count up your demerits total, and anyone with twenty or more will be required to stay behind for a personal interview and the application of appropriate ‘special measures’. The higher the number of demerits, the more severe those special measures will be.”

And so the morning proceeded with Mrs Armstrong explaining more of the procedures of the Academy, the boys writing their confession statements while Mrs Armstrong studied the contents of the envelopes she had collected, and the first group discussion, featuring Wilde’s confession. Along the way a number of ill-advised comments earned the perpetrators an award of demerits, but when Wilde made another wisecrack, similar to his earlier effort, Mrs Armstrong gave him a spanking in exactly the manner she had threatened earlier.

When they reassembled after lunch Mrs Armstrong said that she had an announcement to make. To ease her burden she had appointed a friend and colleague to assist at the Academy. “The aptly-named Ms Kane will be joining us in a few moments. I ought not to have to remind you, but I fear it is necessary, to treat her with the same respect that I demand of you. You will address her as Ma’am, and you will obey her instructions implicitly. Failure to do so will be dealt with severely, and believe you me, she is more than capable of doing so according to the traditions of the Academy.”

The announcement did not go down well. Additional control over their every thought, move and comment was the last thing the boys wanted, and some frowns and furtive glances were exchanged. Before they had time to contemplate further the door opened and in walked a petite and stunningly attractive short-haired brunette, classily dressed in a white shirt and tight-fitting black skirt that ended well above the knee. Several pairs of eyes almost leapt from their sockets and almost instantly a loud wolf-whistle pierced the room. Ms Kane joined Mrs Armstrong at the front of the room.

“Who was that who whistled?” Mrs Armstrong demanded angrily. “Ms Kane, I do apologise for the rudeness of these boys’ behaviour. I think you can see immediately the truth of what I told you, though this is worse than even I feared.”

Turning back to face the boys, she glared and waited. Silence reigned.

“Come along, own up. I ask you again, who whistled?” Still there was silence.

“Very well, then I have no alternative than to award the first, though I suspect not the last, class caning of the term. You boys will learn that women are to be respected, not leered at or whistled at.”

So saying she turned, walked a few steps across the room and disappeared into the room she used as her office. Moments later she returned, holding a mean-looking cane. “One more chance for the culprit to own up,” she announced, but no one did.

“Very well then. Wordsworth, you know the drill, you can be first, Out here boy, bare your bottom and bend over.”

Reluctantly, Wordsworth did as he was bidden and took his place at the front of the room. Mrs Armstrong was just about to apply the first swipe when she stopped.

“Actually I have a better idea. Ms Kane, since you were the one insulted perhaps you would like to do the honours.”

“Certainly, Mrs Armstrong; my pleasure,” said Ms Kane. The thought had already occurred to her but on her first day, and in deference to Mrs Armstrong, she had remained silent.

Mrs Armstrong handed her the cane, which Ms Kane swished through the air a couple of times as she took up her position. The other five boys watched as she landed the rattan with a meaty thwap across Wordsworth’s prominent rump. He flinched but uttered no sound. The next five strokes were delivered in similar fashion and only after the last of them, which was considerably harder, was a stifled cry audible. But then Wordsworth had a hide like leather from the numerous beatings he had taken over the past months.

Potter, one of the new boys, was next and was not so brave. “Let him have it good and hard,” Mrs Armstrong advised her new colleague; “he has already been impertinent and inattentive today, and I want him to learn how misbehaviour is dealt with here at Fouettard’s.”

In truth the first stroke was by no means excessive but it was sufficient to make Potter, who had never been caned before, utter a shrill cry and clasp his hands to his bottom.

“Move those hands immediately,” Mrs Armstrong thundered angrily. “I can see you have a lot to learn, Potter, and believe you me I intend to make sure that you learn very quickly. While you are being punished you will remain still and in position until your punishment is complete. Ms Kane, kindly start again from the beginning. Six more strokes!”

Swish! Thwap! The rattan landed with a snap and Potter again cried out, but this time he managed to stay in position. Swish! Thwap! Swish! Thwap! The strokes continued to land and very quickly some nasty red stripes appeared on Potter’s milky white and unblemished butt. By the time he’d taken all six the boy was yelling and protesting loudly and as soon as he was given permission to stand up he started hopping about as though he was walking on hot coals, even though it was his bottom on fire, not his feet. 

In the next five minutes or so the remaining four boys proceeded in turn to take their allotted punishment. By chance, but unfortunately for him, Joe Austen, another of the returners, was the final boy to be punished. By now Ms Kane was, literally, in full swing. As an experienced disciplinarian it was always her practice to build to a crescendo as punishments proceeded, ensuring that the final strokes were the hardest of all. And so it was that Austen was the recipient of six firecrackers that, shall we say, made a very distinct impression, not only on his vulnerable backside but also on his guilty mind. He knew that it was he who, unable to control his lustful delight, had made the wolf-whistle. As soon as his punishment was over his guilt overwhelmed him and he turned to Ms Kane.

“Ma’am, I apologise; it was remiss of me to wolf-whistle you. I promise you it will not happen again.”

“Aha,” cried Mrs Armstrong, “the culprit confesses. The therapeutic effects of the rod are indeed a wonder, and such a boon to those of us with the responsibility for educating naughty boys. However, despite the honourable action of your confession, it is only right and proper, Austen, that your punishment is greater than your fellow students. You will have a further six. Ms Kane, kindly pass me the cane. I will administer these.”

And administer them she did, six of her very best across Austen’s already stinging rump. It was a highly contrite boy who took his place back at his desk.

Seated next to him, Wordsworth was feeling disgruntled. While the poetic justice of Austen getting extra punishment pleased him, and despite being well versed in Mrs Armstrong’s ways, he was indignant at receiving unwarranted lines himself.
.
“Yes, Wordsworth, what is it?” asked Mrs Armstrong wearily, seeing the boy with his arm aloft.

“Please, Ma’am, given that five of us have been caned without justification, surely it is only right that we are all given a pardon from a future offence that we may commit.”

Mrs Armstrong glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, boy. Why do you persist with your fanciful ideas? Any more smart-alec suggestions and you’ll find yourself with a very high number of demerits to add to your collection. When I want suggestions I’ll ask for them. Meanwhile, keep your ideas to yourself.”

Now Wordsworth was even more indignant and his mind continued to wander among the clouds as the lessons recommenced. 

By the end of the afternoon they had worked through four of the six confession statements in detail, and the other two fleetingly. They had also listened to a lecture from Ms Kane about her experience of male shortcomings. The section on ‘the multiple uses of household implements’ was received with surprise by some and considerable apprehension by all, and the boys had been left in no doubt about her perceptiveness and her ability to deal with situations in an innovative and efficient manner. 

It was almost time for the session to end. Mrs Armstrong totted up all the demerits that had been awarded during the day. Wordsworth, unsurprisingly, was top of the list with fifty-five, closely followed by Dickens with fifty. Wilde had thirty-five, which, according to Mrs Armstrong was a record total for any boy at his first session at the Academy, and “a truly disgraceful effort that will be rewarded appropriately”. Potter’s total was twenty, incurred more through naivety than wilful wrongdoing, but nonetheless just sufficient to require him to stay behind. 

Only Fleming and Austen were allowed to leave immediately. As a new boy, Fleming had adopted a strategy of saying as little as possible, and was helped by the fact that there hadn’t been time to discuss his confession in any detail. Austen was still sore from the caning he had received earlier and, not desirous of further punishment, had made a super-human effort to stay in Mrs Armstrong’s good books. However, Mrs Armstrong informed the pair that they were unlikely to get off so easily the following week, and advised them to ensure that their weekly report contained the minimum misbehaviour.

After a brief consultation between the two women, it was announced that Wordsworth and Wilde would be dealt with by Mrs Armstrong, while Ms Kane would attend to Dickens and Potter. A score of fifty or above always meant a caning, as Wordsworth and Dickens knew only too well. The sentence for Wilde, whom both women had found intensely irritating, was a severe strapping, while Potter was awarded an extended spanking.

Potter’s relief that he was only to be spanked was short-lived. Perched across Ms Kane’s lap with his bottom bared, he quickly discovered that it was not the mild punishment he had thought. It was many years since he had been in a similar position, and whereas then, as far as he could remember, he had got away with no more than half a dozen blows, after two dozen Ms Kane was just getting into her stride. By the time she finished, some ten minutes later, his bottom was glowing like a furnace. 

Stupidly, he then compounded the situation. Having told him to stand up, Ms Kane asked him what he had to say for himself. Instead of thanking her and apologising for his bad behaviour he simply asked if he was now allowed to leave.

“No, you may not,” she replied firmly, “not until you remember your manners and the reason why you are here.”

Potter looked at her quizzically. She remained silent, looking back at him intently and enquiringly, but the boy didn’t catch on.

“Very well, then,” she said after some twenty seconds or so, “you can go and stand in the corner and think about what is required while I attend to Mr. Dickens. And when I’ve finished caning him, if you still cannot think what to say, I shall give you a few strokes to help jog your memory.”

Potter walked away to the appointed corner, still with a puzzled look on his face but desperate to avoid another caning. His first taste of the cane a few hours earlier had hurt both his bottom and his pride, given that it wasn’t he who had wolf-whistled.

In the time it had taken for Potter to receive his spanking, Mrs Armstrong had dealt with both Wordsworth and Wilde. In accordance with her standard tariff of twelve strokes for fifty demerits plus a further stroke for every five additional demerits, Wordsworth was given thirteen strokes of the cane, each one delivered in the manner appropriate to her name. Wilde’s punishment was nine strokes of the strap, a two-tailed Lochgelly tawse that Mrs Armstrong had purchased during a visit to Scotland. However, she did not favour the normal practice of Scottish schools of years gone by, preferring instead to apply the punishment to the seat of learning. Both boys made their way home with burning backsides.

Her duties completed Mrs Armstrong went to witness Ms Kane’s progress. The sight of Dickens bent over a small vaulting horse with his bottom exposed was, of course, nothing new to her, but witnessing his punishment rather than administering it she found both interesting and enlightening. She noted with pleasure how easily Ms Kane delivered the strokes, how with apparently little effort she made the cane whistle to its target, and the highly satisfying snap as it landed. But what she noticed most of all was the sounds emitting from Dickens’s mouth. As a veteran of the cane he could bear more than most but each of Ms Kane’s strokes produced a significant “Aaagh”. How good it was to have such an accomplished colleague to assist at the Academy! She was confident that, between them, they would sort out not only the current set of boys but many more to come.

His caning completed, Dickens duly thanked Ms. Kane and apologised for his behaviour. Potter, facing the wall in the corner, had not witnessed the punishment but had heard every sound, an experience that had convinced him of the inadvisability of earning too many demerits at future sessions. He had also heard Dickens’s words to Ms. Kane, at which point light had dawned about what was expected, and when he was called to see her he immediately offered his own profuse apologies and thanked her for her attention to his needs. How grateful he was to Dickens for helping him avoid any more of that nasty cane!

“Quite a day, Dana,” Mrs Armstrong commented to her new colleague after the last two boys had left. 

A quietly satisfied smile spread across Ms. Kane’s face. “Yes, Julia,” she said, “I think I’m going to enjoy working with you at the Academy.”


The end (for now) …. to be continued?
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Posted on

New Video: ‘Product Testing with Dana Kane’




Product Testing with Dana Kane
 
That’s the name of the series of videos I will be sharing regularly here on my blog.
 
These will be short, semi-comical (I hope) spanking videos which feature some of my favorite implements – and my favorite bottom.
 
I really do hope that you enjoy them because the first one was so much fun that there WILL be more.
 
Of course, while the video is on the silly side, the implements are no joke. I’ll only feature toys from my own arsenal which have been properly ‘tested’ for the right mix of pain and pleasure.
 
The first episode of Product Testing with Dana Kane features
the ‘No-Holes-Barred’ paddle, by Leather Thorn.
 
 
On the ‘No-Holes-Barred’ paddle:
 
I met John (owner and artisan) recently at the Tampa Tanners event and was immediately taken with his paddles, as you know. I bought the Beavertail and eagerly clicked on his website immediately the very next day. While checking out all the designs, I noticed that John was holding a ‘name the paddle’ contest for his newest creation – a tough-looking leather paddle with eight large holes and his usual gorgeous detailing.
 
If you’ve been here long, you know that I hold contests regularly. I love the idea of giving things away – and I guess Leather Thorn does too, because he was offering this gorgeous paddle free (including shipping!) to whoever submitted the winning name. I was IN.
 
I submitted three entries…
and cannot for the life of me remember what the other two were…
 
but ‘No-Holes-Barred’ was the one that was chosen.
 
I am thrilled with my second LT paddle!
 
Numerous grateful thanks to John for making such beautiful and effective pieces, and for being cool enough to give one away every now and then. You rock, John!
 
– Dana
 
 
*****
 
 
Oh. 
 
You wanted to see the video, didn’t you?
 
 

 

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

New Video Teaser: Product Testing with Dana Kane

 
Product Testing with Dana Kane :
 
Featuring the ‘No-Holes-Barred’ paddle,  by Leather Thorn

 

 



I had fun, fun, FUN filming this little tongue-in-cheek Product Testing spoof! 

“Product
 



So much fun, in fact, that it’ll become a regular part of my blog. I think this is a great way to showcase some of my favorite spanking implements (and to be extremely silly on camera). 


The video will be up soon.~


– Dana

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

Story of US: Imaginative F/M Spanking Fiction



Readers, 


Here is one more excellent submission to the Story of US writing contest. This untitled work of fiction was submitted by one of my email correspondents, and he’s put himself in quite a perilous position – with nearly twenty angry women settling the score for his extensive past disrespect. Read about this cad getting his comeuppance…and enjoy!


(The asterisks are my edits, as always – and, make sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text, to reveal the full story.)


– Dana

*****



I didn’t know of Dana Kane, but some of my workmates had heard of her. I had long been known as a fliratious sort of man, the type who pinched women during 10 Kilometer road races, and slapped their bottoms at work. 

Somehow I had avoided any negative feedback from the women because we had worked together for years, and I didn’t follow up with any systematic harassment.

But many of the women harbored deep resentment against me, as I was half aware!

One of my friends at work was particularly distressed because I had openly flirted at a party with one of her old friends. Unknown to me, she had a very jealous boy friend…who beat her when he heard about our flirtation, or, rather, my having lifted her dress at the party, laughing at her discomfiture.

He assumed only an ‘intimate’ would have done that. She tearfully tried to explain, but he silenced her with a slap to the face that left bruises.

So, unknown to me, several of the women contacted Dana Kane and arranged for a ‘session’ for me.

One day after work, my officemate, Kathy, smilingly asked me for coffee. A pretty woman often in tight dresses, she had asked me for coffee previously. She was risking a pinching as she knew…

She winked at me over her shoulder when she went into the elevator ahead of me, and deliberately bent over, the cloth of her dress tighetening over her small but well shaped hips. 

“Go ahead, Mark,” she said, “Just once more..”

I obligingly swattted her across her rear, with a sharp blow she hadn’t expected that bunched the cloth over her behind.

“OWWW..” she exclaimed, “OWWW..” Her eyes flashed in hatred and anger: “You’ll be sorry for that, Mark, and very soon.”

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, we stolled to the cafe and met a pert, pretty woman in a short miniskirt, showing off her fine legs, at a table in the cafe. She smiled disarmingly: “My name is Dana. How are you, Mark? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yes, I’m sure,”, I laughed. “All bad, no doubt.”

Nex to her with coffee and tea were was my former co-worker Lana and Felicia, one of the prettiest women working there, in a long dress that I remembered from another incident over a year ago…

” Well, let’s see.” She pulled out some typewritten sheets of paper. “August 2010…slapped the waitress at the coffee bar, the daughter of the owner. September 2010: Pinched a woman while jogging around the lake. Identity of woman unknown. Oct. 2010: Turned the yoga teacher over the table in the gym and slapped her several times. Reported to the gym, you were suspedned two weeks from membership. Jan. 2011: You asked out one of the lesbians at your work, knowing it just embarrassed her in front of everyone.


Feb. 2011: You put a tack on the chair of the Vice President…no one knew who did that, but everyone heard her shriek. May 2011: You slapped the bottom of two of Anne’s friends, Anne being your best friend here where you work  One of them left in tears…you laughed at Anne when she told you..’

Dana looked up and rattled the pages in her hand. She removed her glasses that gave her a professorial air, and said, ‘Should I go on?”

“No,” I stammered, taken aback at her confident, quiet authority. I had no idea who she was, but I could tell she was not a co-worker!

“After we finish our coffee”, continued Dana with the same friendly but ominous tone, ‘we’re going to go back upstairs and I’m going to spank you.”

She smiled at me warmly, waiting for the shock to wear off!

“But..” I said..She cut me off: “Finish your coffee and enjoy sitting down. You won’t be sitting down again for a LONG time.”

GULP..somehow I knew there was no arguing with this woman. There was a lot of giggling from Felicia, Lana, and also from the owner of the cafe, Gretel, who strolled over suddenly. It was Gretel’s daughter Felly that I had pinched,as cited by Dana.

“Funny how he suddenly has no smart remarks to make…’, said Kathy. “He just swatted me in the elevator. It still hurts!’

“Let’s go,’ chorused the women, rising from their tables. ‘I’ll be up when the cafe closes,” said Gretel. I stood up, not knowing I wouldn’t be sitting again for nearly a week!

Dana and Kathy led the way into the elevator.

Once the doors closed, Kathy gave me a resounding slap across the face!   I saw nothing but stars for a second!
 I stammered, “Wow, Kathy, that’s 49 stars and 8 planets–I can tell you’ve been working out!’
“How did that feel, Mark?”   PAF!…She gave me another one, on the other cheek.  ” Way to turn the other cheek, Mark,”  said Felicia, giggling.   “You’re going to be turning a lot of cheeks in a minute.”   There was general giggling and guffawing, which continued for the next hour as, indeed, I turned many cheeks in many positions I had never before experienced.
“How many stars this time, Mark?” giggled Felicia.  “Still counting..let’s see, 57,” I sobbed, since the pain was really overwhelming.
“Oh, fishty–sheven?” chortled Felicia.   She mimicked my tears, as she was to continue to do during the interviews that punctuated the many slaps I was about to receive.
When the elevator doors opened, Kathy took me by the ear and put me in front of a mirror.  You could see the red marks of her fingers across my cheeks.
“Take a good look, Mark.  It’s only the beginning.”   I had never heard her voice so steely before.
 There was an unknown woman in the corner of the lunchroom.   She came over and introduced herself.  “Hi, I’m Mary Laine.   I’ll be doing the video today.  I’m a friend of Marta’s.”
 Marta was a former co worker whose e mail I had read by accident when she didn’t log off her computer, which we shared.  She had been angry with me for gossiping a little about what I had read, as a joke.   Apparently she was still mad, since she had arranged for her friend to video the events I’m describing.
 Mary took me into the lunch room.  “I’m going to do the prep for the video.  She bent down and untied my shoes.  “What…,” I stammered, stepping back.  But Lana and Felicia came up behind me and grabbed my arms.   Kathy gave me another slap… This time I counted 37, plus 15 assorted planets.
Mary took off my shoes, funbled with my zipper, and pulled down my trousers.   Then she grabbed me and drew me over her lap next to a series of lights she had set up in a corner of the lunchroom.   She pulled up my shirttail, and slowly, with a lot of chortling from the women watching, pulled down my underpants.  She pulled them down past my knees, over my ankles,and tossed them across the room. “These white ones won’t do. We need some darker ones,’  she chirped.
“Isn’t it great to see his bare ass over a woman’s knees,”  said Lana and Felicia together, as if they had rehearsed this line. “”And to see it whipped by a pro..”
“Can you bring the bag over there, please,” said Mary, very businesslike.  She produced several pair of men’s briefs from this bag and held them over my bared behind, comparing the colors, finally choosing an orange pair.  “This will show up better against this white behind,’  she commented as if to herself.  She reached over and switched on the lights.  “Can you bring that mirror?” she said to someone; my face was down near her ankles.  I spent a lot of time studying women’s shoes and ankles from this point on.
A mirror was brought over and placed at an angle so that I could see my white behind over her lap, her legs crossed underneath my lap.  There was a lot of chatter about how white I was, since Lana and Felicia were Filipinas, Kathy was Latina and dark, and Mary herself Chinese.
“The light will have to be adjusted here, it’s so white,”  laughed Mary.  “But I bet it won’t stay white.!!!’, she called out to the room in general.
I started crying from embarrassment.   Mary gave me a few whacks with her palm, giggling, “I’ll give you something to cry about!”   The other women gathered around and commented on the red mark made by Mary’s palm. “OUCH…OUCH..OWW” was my response, followed by more vigorous crying.
“Sorry, but I have to test the colors and the sound, so I need to hear you yell and cry to make sure we get that,”  laughed Mary.  “I’ll need some makeup too.  Since your bottom is going to be the starring role, I’ll make it up like a face, I guess,”, and broke out laughing, so that I vibrated on her lap.  There was general full throated laughter all around.   Mary started applying creams and makeup to my behind, something she continued to do throughout the course of the spanking.   t the general meriment of all, except, of course, me, 
Mary pulled the orange underwear on over my ankles and up my legs, and stood me up.  She called Dana over and had Dana sit down and pull me over her lap. 
Dana and Mary discussed the proper positioning of my bottom.  “I want his legs to be off the floor so he can’t kick using the floor for balance,”  said Dana.  Mary and Dana
tested several chairs and the furniture in the room by repeatedly tossing me over Dana’s lap and checking where my legs fell.  Finally, Dana had the ‘right’ height and position for my legs and arms.  I was allowed to put my clothes back on, finally, after being on display on Mary’s and Dana’s laps, stripped, for nearly half an hour while I was ‘prepped’ and repositioned in preparation for being spanked.  
Mary and Dana arranged two mirrors so that I could see my bottom during the spanking and so that my face would be visible to the growing audience.
  By now Greta had arrived as well, as had Marta and Diana, the yoga teacher at the gym I had playfully spanked at a party a few months before, cited by Dana.  Two of Diana’s  yoga students were with her.
*****
Greta’s daughter Fanny also arrived.  There must have been 12 women by now, and they were on cell phones telling others to come.
My ‘friends’ Anne and Elvie also came.  “We’re sorry, Mark,” said Elvie.  “We tried to talk them out of the spanking, but we were outvoted, and when they told us all the things you had done, we couldn’t really argue..”
Dana took charge at this point, and hushed the giggling and chatting audience.  They gathered around on chairs and the sofa.
“Okay, Mark.  I’m Dana, a professional disciplinarian.   There’s going to be a lot of audience participation today, and we’ve agreed you won’t be able to sit down when we are finished with you!   This is why I am spanking you.
 1.  General disrespect for women
 2.  Slapping Felly in the cafe.
 3.  Laughing at Greta about slapping her daughter Felly.
 4.  Gossipping about Leslie’s affair
 5.  Asking out the lesbian women just to harass them and laughing about it with the other staff
 6.  Slapping a naked woman runner during the Bay to Breakers run.
 7.  Pinching Kathy in front of her daughter.
 8.  Reading Marta’s e mail and telling everyone about her break-up.
 9.  Embarrassing your wife with your conduct.
10. Lifting Diana’s skirt so that everyone could see her underwear.
11. Commenting on women’s underwear you could see when they bent over.
12. Pinching Charla in the file room
13. Putting a tack on Miranda’s chair.
14. Pulling down Randa’s running shorts
15. Fondling Elvie on the train.
16. Slapping your friend Anne on the behind when she wore tights.
17. Slapping your friend Anne so many times!
18. Turning Elvie over your knee and slapping her when she said you needed a spanking.
19. Commenting on Felicia’s tight clothes in Spanish with Marta.
20. Gossipipng about Lana when she got divorced.
21. Slapping your neighbor’s behind.  We don’t know her name.
22. Putting Anne’s friend on your knee during a party
23.  Taking pictures of Miranda when she was high and showing them around.
24.  Spanking Toni in the parking lot.
25.  Spanking Toni’s sister in the parking lot
26.  Slapping the blonde receptionist downstairs.
27.  Pinching the Latina receptionist downstairs
28.  Lifting the skirt of the clerk in the grocery store.
29.  Refusing to discuss my behavior with Anne.
30.  Refusing to discuss my behavior with Anita.
31.  Refusing to apologize to Greta.
32.  Telling Felicia I was too big to spank.
33.  Telling Monica a girl wouldn’t be able to spank me.
Some of the women were a little shocked at the length of this list.  My friends Anne and Elvie asked, “Is all that true..?’   Christine, another woman who had arrived, said she couldn’t believe it, that I was really basically a pretty nice guy.
 Kathy then came over and slapped me again.  She had me count the stars.  I got eight more slaps from eight different women, each time counting the stars.  Someone wrote down my count each time, Felicia I think.
 Then Greta passed out rulers to many of the women, I think all of them.  They took turns, two by two, one holding my hand out while the other slapped my hand with the ruler.   The women all counted the strokes.  I was crying the whole time I got the slaps on the face and hands.  The count reached 48, four per woman.
 Dana then took over.   First she grabbed me by the ear and sat me on a chair near hers.  She took one of my feet and peeled off the sock, then the other.  I wondered why my socks had to be removed.
   She took a hairbrush out of carrying case.  She picked up one of my feet, raised the brush over her shoulder, and brought the flat of the brush down on the inner arch of my foot with an amazingly loud KA-THWACK!   I immediately burst into tears..I was sobbing anyway, from embarrassment. 
   The women all applauded and Felicia did her imitation of me sobbing.
   ‘TWO: called out several women as Dana gave me a second THA-WOP with the hairbrush on the sole of my foot.  I cried even more loudly.
   KA-THWOCK!  FA-BAF!  ZAKK!   Dana gave me ten on each foot.  I bawled and sobbed continuously.  It was more painful than what she gave me later on my rear.
   The women cheered when she finished.  Some came over and shook her hand as I wailed and WAAHed.  “My, my I heard Zoe say, one of my enemies at work.  I didn’t know she had arrived. “That’s such great punishment.  He has to face her while she lets him have it, and we can all watch him cry.  Look at the tears.  It looks like he just took a shower, all the water on his face..”
   AFter several minutes, my sobbing subsided and Dana politely asked if I wanted some water.   I already felt dehydrated from crying and sobbed, “Yesh, pweesh..” with Felicia echoing my slurring. She asked me what I thought of the way I had behaved, and I said ,”I’ve b..been…werry..werry vad…Vana…I’m shorry..” to the laughter of the room. After I had drunk some water, she told me to go apologize to every woman, one by one.  I limped around on my stinging soles of my bare feet, again to general giggling, and apologized to everyone.
  Dana then  grabbed me in an armlock and marched me over to the carefully positioned chair and slowly, with saying she was genuinely sorry to have to do this, she unbuttoned my fly and took down my pants.   She then laid me gently over her knees, squirming my behind into the desired angle over her lap.  Mary adjusted the lights and sound again, and I studied Dana’s shoes, where my face was down near her shins.
 Then Dana, laughing quietly, gently caressed my hips and very slowly lowered the orange underpants, revealing my bottom, glistening with the makeup Mary had applied.
Dana asked me if I understood why I was being spanked.  The women attending burst into applause.  “That’s great style she has, the way she strips him,” I heard Lana comment.
 “I’d like to know what you think,”, Dana purred in a low voice.
 I tried to stop sobbing long enough to babble, “I know I deserve this.   I hope all of you will be happy with seeing me get this.   There’s nothing more embarrassing than being spanked as an adult man by a woman, with other women watching.”   I started crying.  Dana softly said, “We’ll wait while you cry.’
 The other woman kept calling out that they were glad to see me in this position, and there were many cell phone cameras and flash cameras in operation.  I could see the women photographing my behind in the mirror they had positioned.
 The women chatted about how great the paddling on my feet had been…
 Dana was handed a hairbrush.  “This is a favorite hairbrush of mine.  It’s just the ideal weight and heft,” she said, swinging it around to warm up her shoulder.
 Dana brought the hairbrush down with such a loud KA-KLAP that even my ears hurt.  I started crying again.  Dana waited until I stopped crying to give me the second swat with the brush. 
  Dana gave me from 3 to 8 strokes for each incident listed at the outset.  ‘Mark, this is for what you did to Felly….this is for what you did to the blonde receptionist..This is for the tack on the chair..This is for saying women couldn’t spank you…(I got MANY from her for that one.)  The audience called out and cheered the reddening of my rear.
Felicia imitated my crying.  I yelled  OUCH so often,  my voice was hoarse the next day.
Dana stopped when I cried and resumed to make me cry again.
 She stopped once in a while to comment on the reddening of my bottom, and laughed as she rubbed my behind and chatted with some of the women.  There were pauses for photo-ops as well, advice on techniques with the hairbrush.  
 “It’s so great to see him over her knee.”
 ” I just like to hear him cry.’
 ” I love the sound of the brush landing.”
 ”  I can’t get enough of the look on his face.  He can’t believe this is  happening.”
  “WAAW”, said Felicia, echoing me.
  “Boy I’ll bet he is sorry.”
   “It’s hurting him more than it’s hurting her, that’s for sure.’
   “This man has been bad to women, and know he’s getting spanked for it.’  That was Diana to her kids.
  Dana never gave me more than a couple at a time, before stopping to comment, ask me how I felt, or chat with the women.
  She asked me repeatedly how I felt being over a woman’s lap with my bare behind in view, turning red.  I never had anything creative to answer–“It hurtsh.  I’m shorry.  I desherb it…”
   Mary stopped her frequently to reapply her makeup, since the hairbrush was dissolving it.  I could see a fine spary of it like a halo around my bottom, with each stroke of the hairbrush landing.  As  my bottom reddened, Mary stopped Dana to readjust the lighting filter to capture the effect.  This sometimes was a lengthy process.  I had time to study Dana’s shoes and think about what the women were witnessing, my bare behind held over Dana’s knees.
   Dana sometimes stopped and put down the brush.  She then used her palm, with a fast wrist action, making a loud KA-WHOP sound on my behind.
  She carefully landed each blow with her palm so her hand was outlined in red, symmetrically, on each cheek. There were also four red rectangles on my bottom,  with a curve in the middle, the imprints from her hairbrush,  She stopped and made me look at the imprints on my bottom.  The women attending crowded around to look as well.   There was general laughter and commenting, “Now that’s what I call turning the other cheek.”
   After about fifteen minutes, Dana called for a break.  (There were three breaks, as I was over her knees for more than an hour.  That must be some kind of record!)
She pulled my orange briefs back up and I was led to the counch, where I lay face down sobbing while the women shared cookies and coffee and discussed Dana’s professional life.
   “We love the way you go slowly and tease him, but still hurt him so much.”  And the way you take off his clothes is so precious,”  said Felicia.   Dana gave some lessons on taking control of men, how to put steel in your voice.  “Never get angry or use force..for a woman those are always losing propositions,” she said.   “I never spanked anyone who didn’t realize they deserved it.”
    After the break, Dana said it was time for audience participation. ??
    My friend Anne said to the crowd (must have been 20 by now), “You know I tried to talk you out of this.  But hearing what Mark has done…I’m so embarrassed now to have taken his side.”  
    “In fact, I’m madder than most of you now.   So..even though I’ve always been against spanking…I’ve just cut this from Wilma’s indoor lemon tree.”  She flourished a switch. 
    So my friend Anne, to wild applause, now grabbed me off the couch by the ear, took me over to Dana’s chair, and with Dana’s help, stripped me and took me over her knees.   She copied Dana’s technique of caressing me while pulling down the orange underwear, and also copied Dana’s slow rhythm of swats and conversation as she applied her switch to my stripped bottom.   She only gave me about eight since Dana was afraid I’d start bleeding, my behind was so red.  Then she pulled up my briefs and pants and stood me up, just as Dana had.
    I could see such a look of anger and at the same tim, satisfaction on her face as she gave me the what-for.
    She got even louder applause than Dana had.  “Getting it from your best work friend, imagine how that feels,’ giggled Diana to her children.
    My other friend Elvie said, “I’m next”   She used her palm and made an impression right next to Dana’s on my behind.   Once again, I endured slow stripping,  Elvie adjusting me on her lap….with Mary’s professional help.  Each woman re-dressed me after spanking me and handed me back to Dana.
    Then Felly, Greta’s daughter, took her turn.  
     Then Yonnie the yoga student decided to participate.  She gave me whacks with a yoga belt.  This also got loud applause.  But they didn’t hurt so much.  Dana is a professional, after all.  Most of the women who took me over their knees had never spanked anyone before, let alone an adult man.
     Then the owner of the hair salon downstairs stepped up, with a hairbrush..this woman was a mother and skilled with a hairbrush!
     Then Zoe, my old enemy, stepped up, saying, “This is better than my Prozac,” and took her turn with a paddle.   Dana made her stop after a couple of dozen whacks or she’d still be spanking me.
     The slow ritual of stripping and positioning occurred with each woman, with a break for me to finish crying each time.
     Then Dana resumed her session, this time with a sort of switch with a star on the tip, that left red stars.  She alternated this with slapping with her hand, again, only three of four at a time, for each of the listed transgressions.  
      She never seemed to get tired!   Every smack seemed harder than the one before!   I could see my tears running down her legs and into her socks, which started to look damp as the spanking continued.
      When she finally laid her palm on my red behind and said, ” I think he’s learned his lessons,”  it had been 2 hours since we had met in the cafe.   And it wasn’t over.
For a finale, the women, more than 20, lined up, filed past Dana holding me over her knees, and each gave me a slap, while Mary changed the camera to close ups of each woman.   Mary asked each one to briefly explain why they wanted to see me punished.   This process took another hour!
       Again I was allowed to dress.   But then, Danny, who I had pinched years before, said, “I’d like him not to sit down for a long time..I’d like Dana to make blisters on his behind so he can’t sit down for days..”
       Dana didn’t want to do this–neither did Anne or Elvie…but Danny eventually convinced Dana with the support of the majority.
       Meanwhile, the women all decided to appoint Anne as sort of my probation officer.  Anne would develop an behavior improvement plan, outline a program I would have to follow, and report back if I wasn’t following her directions.  Anne promised not to spare the rod in dealing with me!   First, I would have to speak to groups about the spanking, and attend a showing of the video each month at someone’s house….
        Now it was nearly 8, and Dana took me once more by the ear.  This time, she stripped me bare in front of the women, took my belt, and, using the belt as a weight, took a long wind up and FA-ZRAPP-VAF…the buckle came down on my red behind.  I bawled for several minutes.  I saw stars again.  
   The women showed me my behind in the mirror.  Now there was a large welt on it.    ZHA-CRACK…Dana gave me another belt buckle stroke on the other cheek.   Now theire were welts on both red cheeks  and the women were assured I wouldn’t be sitting down.  It turned out to be three days of changing bandages on my bottom. They got some band-aids from the emergency supplies and bandaged the two welts before Dana..FINALLY…pulled up the orange briefs for the last time.
      “There’s just one more treat in store,” giggled Kathy as I howled with pain in the corner.    “Turn on your computers and add *****  on skype..Be online at 9 o’clock.”
       Anne took me home.   When I got there, my wife was waiting.  “You were cruising for it,”  she sighed.  She turned on her computer and just before 9, I got one more stripping and once more the orange briefs came down.   She stood me in front of the computer, connected  with as many of the women as she could find online, and lifted my shirttail.  Precisely at 9 she spanked me, just with her hand, only a few strokes, but given the condition of my bottom, I cried and howled at the computer, as many of the women watched, once again, as my own wife gave me a sample of what Dana had provided me!  
     “A great ending to a great day” was the message on Skype from Kathy. “Wonderful to see you get spanked by your wife.” said Zoe.  “I hope it’s not the last time.”
 “I’m sorry this had to happen,’ from Anne.
“I’ve never seen this many women so enthusiastic about a spanking,” was Dana’s comment.  ” I have to say Mark showed he could take it on the chin…er, I mean, mostly on the bottom.”
*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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A stroll around the Spanking block



I am happy to boast that I won the recent  Leather Thorn paddle naming contest. The ‘No-Holes-Barred’ was waiting for me when I arrived home to Las Vegas last evening, and I am beyond pleased. This paddle is TOUGH! John, owner and artisan at LT, handcrafts these amazingly beautiful (and effective) paddles in Princeton, Kentucky, and each one is a work of art. My Leather Thorn paddle collection will likely be massive by the time I’m done…and I’ll be making a nice little video with the ‘No-Holes-Barred’ Paddle soon.


Each paddle is also customizable – I requested mine in natural/burgundy, to match the one I bought at the recent Tampa Tanners event. 
You’ll love these lovingly-built paddles, straps, and other implements!

*****

Take a look around Angie’s Erotic Pen, ‘Writing for the erotic mind’. With lots of erotic fiction (hundreds of stories, in several different categories), chat, and even photos and video, there is enough content here for even the most voracious reader of adult content.

*****



As I mentioned in a previous post, one of my UK correspondents’ new blog – Disciplined Behaviour – is off to an excellent start, and Michael’s been kind enough to mention me in a recent post, HERE.
Thank you, Michael, and good luck!

*****

A nice mention from crankyspanker, in a blog post titled ‘Kiss a Little Butt‘ , made me chuckle…

*****

I’ll be in Seattle soon. ~

– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Music: ‘Would you say thank you if I spank you?’



Here is a fun song by a group called The Turbomen, sent to me by one of my playmates (thanks, Corporal!).  It’s some sort of euro-pop or neo-punk or whatever you’d like to call it, but the lyrics are sexy and fun.   
Enjoy.   – Dana







Lyrics:  



Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you be dripping for a whipping
On your knees
Would you wish for a swish or two
While I pace around the room
Want some pain from my cane Or a beating from my broomWould you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would your hairpiece start to quiver
If I were to slowly tease
Would you shiver and shake
Would your lower lip quake
If I screamed? Aaaaaaaah!
When you’re tied and bound would you feel your way around
And do the things you only dreamed?
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
That’s nice
Just right
Oh yeah
Want some more?
Does that feel good?
Lets do it again
Uhuh
Lets do it again
Mmhhmm
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you say thankyou if I spank you
Would you say please
Would you say thankyou if I spank you


*****

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com 
DanaKane.blogspot.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Another great ‘Story of US’ contest entry


Anthony (pseudonym) submitted this quirky, untitled story to the ‘Story of US’ writing contest. A “conversation” between a man and his dog, it’s funny and totally imaginative. Thanks, Anthony!

– Dana

*****

“You know what a ‘non-contestant’ is, Elliot?”

Elliot’s not real talkative today. He just looks up at me with big eyes.

“It means that even if I win I can’t go to Los Angeles.”

I know what Elliot’s thinking. He’s thinking is that really a bad thing. And he’s thinking he wouldn’t get to go anyway, that he’d be stuck at home with mom.

“The winner gets a free session with Dana. That’s a big thing. I’ve never met her but believe me it’s big.”

Elliot, wise beyond his years, gets to the heart of the matter. “Is it really appropriate to address a professional disciplinarian by her first name?”

“My thinking” I respond, “is that kind of talk is a bit disrespectful. Maybe something she’d spank me hard for. Even harder than she would have spanked me anyway.”

Imagining that is a little scary. I’ve seen the free videos. She looks petite, maybe some would say inconsequential. But you wouldn’t say that while you were over her lap, because there’d be plenty of consequences there. Oh yeah.

“What would she spank you with?” Elliot’s becoming more interested. “A newspaper?”

“She probably spank me with anything I wanted. Well, maybe she’d give me some choices.” I ponder that. “But I wouldn’t want *her* making that decision.”

“Does she make men cry?”

“I wouldn’t, but I’m sure that’s happened in the past.” I look into Elliot’s inquiring brown eyes. “Crying isn’t always bad.  But men respond differently. Some of the men laugh while she’s spanking them. But I think that’s like calling her ‘Dana’ instead of Ms. Kane. It would make her arm get all blurry and someone’s bottom would glow.”

I can’t explain to Elliot, but I’m sure I wouldn’t make for a good client anyway. I’d wiggle and kick my legs about and she’d order me to stop and I’d wiggle more and moan and backtalk and she’d kick me out only half-spanked. Being half-spanked by Dana would be worse than no spanking at all.

I can tell that Elliot believes me. His tail is wagging now. “What would you say to her?”

I’m sure my bravado would disappear, evaporate instantly, when I met her in person and she fixed me with those steel blue eyes. “I’d ask her if she was worthy to spank me.”

But she’s seen all that a thousand times before, and soon after felt the awkward restlessness and yearning taking place over her lap. She’s oh so slowly lowered the flimsy protection covering countless bare bottoms that deserved punishment and she’s brought that punishment down in abundance. And she’s watched that bravado disappear like smoke from a smouldering fire.

Elliot has something on his mind, but I continue. “I think she’s the real deal, Elliot. But maybe I should ask mom for that type of thing first.” 

Finally I rise from the couch. “Let’s go for a walk, boy. And no fire hydrants.”
*****


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Detroit, Chicago, Seattle, San Francisco, Atlanta, Houston, and beyond


I’ll be jetting off to Detroit and Chicago later this week, and am gleefully anticipating seeing my current playmates, and meeting a couple of new ones, as well.

Later this month, I’ll visit Seattle (September 27 & 28) and San Francisco (September 29 & 30),
before a quick trip back to Los Angeles for filming of Spanking Court.  

Early October, I will be in Atlanta and Houston, to dole out a few southern-style spankings.

My New York City and Boston playmates may prepare for my return toward the end of October, and I’ll be adding a stop in Washington D.C., as well.

In between all this spanking fun and travel, I’ll be setting up and preparing my new home space in Las Vegas.

Feel free to email me for details and scheduling in any of the above cities, and check the TRAVEL page for more information.

– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Your Opinion: distance training, or Guided Self-Discipline



Readers,


I would appreciate your opinions on a subject that comes up from time to time, usually referred to as ‘distance training’.


Occasionally, I receive a request for distance training -what I call guided self-discipline, and am always happy to consider. However, to date not a single prospective correspondent has shown the application, attention to detail, or mental fortitude necessary to carry out ‘distance training’ as I define it. I am certain that these people do exist – these people who, through a lot of personal strength and support, can maintain a guided self-discipline program – or do they? 


Is guided self-discipline in itself an oxymoron? 


Let’s look at some other, more commonly-used ideas associated with ‘guided self discipline’:


Self-help books, and tapes, and books-on-tape, and meetings, and retreats, and gurus; 
special diets, special exercises, special clothing for the exercises, and especially expensive price-tags on all of it; 
yoga, meditation, motivation.


All of the above ‘proven’ to work, I might add (except maybe the price-tags).


How does self-discipline work for you? And, do you believe yourself (or others) capable of maintaining or improving yours through guided disciplinary behavior counseling (including spanking-related self-discipline and other activities)? Does this seem like a viable way of maintaining ones’ self-discipline, or just another type of role-play for spankos? 






As always, please leave your comments/opinions in the comment area below, so that others may benefit from your wisdom. (For those of you who cannot seem to comment on my blog – a problem which persists no matter what I do – feel free to email me your comments and I will post them in, on request.)


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Spanking Blog: Disciplined Behaviour



One of my wonderful U.K. correspondents, and author of ‘The Rescue of a Roman Honeymoon’ and ‘Visiting Dana’ – Michael – has started a new blog titled Disciplined Behaviour.  While brand new, I am confident that this blog will become an excellent one, as Michael’s f/m spanking stories have been among the best I’ve received. A recent post, ‘I get into spanking’ discusses the origins of the kink for my U.K. friend, and will ring true with many of you readers, as well. He’s also lucky enough to find himself in a happy FLDD relationship, and I am hoping that much insight on that subject will be available.


Check back often, as we’re guaranteed some more really great spanking content from disciplinedbehaviour.blogspot.com.


 – Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Sitting on a Pillow’ : Original F/M Spanking Story



Readers,


‘Sitting on a Pillow’ is a lovely story, submitted to the ‘Story of US’ writing contest, by one of my regular correspondents. I do hope that you enjoy it as much as I have.    (The asterisks are my edits, for slightly saucy language.)     – Dana


Be sure to click on the ‘Read More’ link at the bottom of the visible text, to read the entire post.

*****



Sitting on a Pillow 


So here I sit on a Pillow with a very sore bottom, how did this happen? Well it all started a few days ago. My wife took our son out of town to check out a college in another state and I decided it would be the right time to visit Dana for the first time. I was so excited to meet her knowing that soon after our meeting my bottom would be getting spanked. I had tried to tell myself I didn’t need to be spanked by Dana but I kept loosing that argument with myself and now the day had come and I would soon get the spanking I knew I needed.
As soon as my wife and son drove away I headed for the bathroom to shower and shave all my *** and my legs, I wanted to be clean and smooth when I put on my wife’s prettiest panties and stockings, garter and the sports bra. The bra I had purchased for myself and was that ever embarrassing I just knew the woman didn’t believe my story that I was buying it for my wife. When I had seen the pictures of the guy Dana spanked in her lingerie I felt I had to do the same but instead of stealing Dana’s undies I’d steal my wife’s. So I went through my wife’s panty drawer and found a new pair that was so sexy I just had to put them on. ***. I slipped on a garter belt and red stockings, my bra and I was ready. I wanted to wear nothing more than this for the drive to her place but decided I better not so in jeans and a tee shirt I headed off to get my naughty bottom spanked just like when ***
As I walked up to the door my tummy started to do flip flops just like when I knew my mom or dad were going to spank me I was starting to get very excited and scared at the same time! The door open and there stood Dana looking at me with a lovely smile, “Bobbie, I see you are on time that’s a good boy I’d hate to have to punish you for being late. Won’t you come in; it is very nice to meet you.” She offered me her hand and as I shook it I seemed to feel electricity shoot through me. “Thank you Mistress it is so very nice to meet you too!”
She directed me towards a room and when I entered it I saw several spanking implements that would soon be burning my naughty bottom laid out on a table next to the chair I had seen in her spanking videos. I felt very nervous now as Dana sat on the chair and said, “Bobbie did you tell your wife you were going to get a spanking today?” She still smiled and her voice was as sweat as honey.



“No mistress she went out of town with our son and I am doing this behind her back, mistress.” I knew I’d be in trouble for this I had agreed to tell my wife.
Still with the honey voice, “Oh Bobbie you are a very naughty boy, we talked about this didn’t we?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“And what did I tell you would happen if you didn’t tell your wife and get her permission?” Her voice only seemed sweater now.
I hoped I could dance around this, “You said I’d get a serious punishment spanking and you would tell my wife after.”
Now she gave me a nice warm smile and a little giggle, “I guess you want to be punished then don’t you Bobbie? Did you think I’d let you off you naughty boy?”
“Yes mistress I thought maybe you might punish me but not tell my wife, please don’t tell her I promise next time I will tell her first.”
Now she just laughed at me, “I think your going to get punished again when she gets home that’s what I think, now get you jeans and shirt off.” She seemed upset with me but she was still smiling and speaking so sweetly.
“You have been very naughty young man and when I am done we are going to phone your wife and you are going to tell her the truth, understand sweetie?”
I knew I was in big trouble but hearing her scold me I just couldn’t help but smile I had wanted this for so long.
“Oh? So you think this is funny? Have you seen the video I gave to a boy who thought it was funny to get a spanking?”
“Yes Ma’am I have.”
“Good just remember you are going to get spanked a lot harder than he did, still think it is funny?”
“No Ma’am.”
Take off you shirt. Please I want to see what you have on underneath.”
I removed my tee-shirt revealing my sports bra she said, “Well now I thought you had on a bra, a tee-shirt doesn’t hide them that well but I didn’t expect such a nice pretty one and you look so cute in it Bobbie. Is that your wife’s bra?”
“Thank you Mistress. No I bought it just for today.”
“I bet you have on something pretty under you jeans don’t you sweetie?”
I kicked of my sandals and removed my jeans then stood in front of her in my panties, garter and stockings. I remember she made a point that if you are wearing stockings you must have on a grater on her blog when she spanked the guy in her panties.
“Oh Bobbie you look so cute I almost don’t want to spank you, almost. ***Does you wife know you like to wear her pretties?”
“No Mistress she doesn’t know I like to wear panties and things.”
“Do you think you’re cute dressed like a girl?”
“I don’t know I guess I hope I’m cute.”
“Well let’s just see if you still feel cute after I spank you, get over my lap now please sweetie.”
I bent across her lap and soon felt her warm lovely hand caressing my pantied bottom.
“I best not see those legs off the floor young man do you understand?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“There will be no wiggling or crossing your legs and I better not hear any whining about how much it hurts we both know it will hurt so don’t complain when it does, understand sweetie?”
“Yes Ma’am I understand I will try to be still.”
Then I felt her strong left hand land a spank on my bottom that felt like a paddle but it was only her hand then another and another and another. I tried to hold still but soon I was raising my legs.
“Get those legs back on the floor sweetie.”
Then again she rained down fast and hard spanks and soon I was wiggling again.
“Stop the wiggling I guess the panties have to come down sweetie.”
I felt her pull my panties down then her hand began to punish my bare bottom and the sting was so intense. As she was spanking me she said, “Sweetie I can see you just can’t keep still I have just about had it with you wiggles and kicking and these garter straps keep getting in my way, stand up.”
I stood up and felt just how hot my bottom was already getting and she was only using her hand I was beginning to wonder why I wanted a spanking! Mistress un-hooked the garter belt and dropped it to the floor, “That’s better; now get back across my lap.” As I reluctantly resumed the position she said, “I don’t think my hand is getting through to you I can see you need the hairbrush.”
Before I knew it I felt the hairbrush smacking one cheek then the other then right in the middle of my sit spot and I started to wiggling and kicking and whimpering.
As she kept spanking me she said, “Why are you whining we talked about that didn’t we and again with the legs, I will get my cane young man now keep still and take you punishment you know you deserve it don’t you?”
I tried to answer but it hurt so much I couldn’t get the word out.
“No answer well then I guess it’s the cane, stand up sweetie.”
My butt really hurt and I felt so much like a little boy getting it from his mom or a teacher I just started to cry at the thought of the cane. 
“Sweetie if you think tears will save you naughty bottom from the cane you are wrong now go over to that horse and bend over.”
Through my tear filled eyes I saw the spanking horse she had spanked the man in panties on and I knew I was going to look just like him. I put my knees on the leather padded lower section then laid down and held on tight knowing I would soon be crying like a baby.
I heard her swishing the cane in the air and the sound was so scary and thrilling at the same time I knew it was going to hurt badly but couldn’t wait for her to kiss my bottom with her cane.
“Now sweetie this is going to hurt a lot, I hope you don’t have to do a lot of sitting tomorrow. I do not want to see you move out of position understand sweetie because if you do I will have to get the bigger cane and give you several extra strokes.”
“Yes Mistress I understand I will try to stay in position.”
“If you stay in place you will only get eighteen, here we go.”
The first one burned its way right across my bottom a few inches below the top of my bottom crack, “YYYEEEWWWWWOOOOOOWWWW!!!!!” I jumped up and grabbed my bottom and danced around in a circle.
“Oh sweetie now I have to use the big cane and give you 6 extra, I think I need to tie you down as well sweetie. Get back down on the spanking horse while I get the restraints, that’s a good boy.”
I felt the cut burning into my bottom as I again forced myself into position on the spanking horse, soon she had my legs and wrists secured to the horse, I found I couldn’t move my bottom more than a few inches in any direction. I knew this was gonna hurt a lot but somehow being tied down allowed me “let go” and take it like a little boy. I started to cry like naughty boys do when they know their “gonna get it good”.
She patted my sore bottom and said, “Now, now sweetie why are you crying now I have only given you one stroke and that was with the small cane, you just wait I am about to give you a real good reason to cry.”
I felt her tapping my bottom with the big cane and the next thing I heard was a swish and me crying out from the burning pain cutting my bottom right across my seat. Then another and another and soon I did have a real good reason to cry like a little boy, and I did.
I hardly heard her through my own crying, “Sweetie please count the last six, these are your extra if you loss count I will have to start over.”
Crying I answered, “Yes mistress, I’m sorry I moved do you have to give me more my ass really hurts!”
Then spanking my bottom with her hand she said, “Naughty, naughty, naughty using that naughty word, you will say bottom when you are around a lady.” She still spoke like there was honey and sunshine on her lips.
“I’m sorry mistress.”
Gently patting my bottom she said, “Let’s not let that happen again sweetie or it will be the big coach’s paddle for you. Now count out the strokes sweetie.”
SWISH “OUCH! ONE!
SWISH “OOOWWEE! TWO!
SWISH “OOOWWEE! THREE!
SWISH “YAAAAOOO!! FOUR!  It just burned more and more with each new stroke till at last I heard myself yell, “SIX!!!” And I knew my caning was over.
“Oh my sweetie you bottom is going to hurt a long time, you have been very naughty haven’t you? I think your going to have trouble sitting for a few days. I think you should just stay there for awhile I wouldn’t want you tempted to rub your bottom we want it to sting for a good long while don’t we sweetie?”
Still bawling like a baby, “Yes, yes Mistress I guess so.’
“In a little while I will let you up and then I have a big surprise for you.” She left me there with a burning butt and tears running down my face, ‘what surprise, another spanking?’ I thought to myself.
Maybe an hour later she came back and un-fastened the restraints, then she helped me to stand; that’s when I discovered that some of the cane strokes had landed on the crease between my bottom and my legs and it really hurt walking.
“Come along sweetie your surprise is in the other room.” I followed her into the next room, panties around my ankles and there stood my wife! Her arms crossed and looking very angry.
Dana said, “I knew you wouldn’t tell your wife so I talked to her last week and we both agreed you needed a good spanking for being so naughty. I think she has something else for you still sweetie.”
“I sure do,” my wife said and picked up a long handle wooden bath brush, “Are those my new panties?!”
I was so scared that she had caught me in her panties and knew about my getting a spanking from Dana I couldn’t speak also she didn’t have honey on her lips.
“I asked you a question mister, are you wearing my new panties, and my stockings and garter belt?”
I managed to mumble, “Yes dear I’m sorry please don’t give me another spanking my ass, I mean my bottom is so sore please.” I begged.
With her hands on her hips she said, “I will teach you to go behind my back for a spanking and stealing my panties now get over here!”
I was soon over her lap getting my bottom burned again Dana gave her pointers on how to make it sting more and how to scold me. I have been told that from now on when I misbehave I am to go visit Aunt Dana for my punishment.
So now you know why I am sitting on a big soft pillow as I write this, I need to go now because if my wife catches me sitting on a pillow instead of doing the housework dressed in a maids outfit I will be visiting Dana and hearing her sweat voice as she spanks my naughty bottom much sooner than I would like.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Book Review: Late Bloomer by Erica Scott
It is not pertinent that I know Erica Scott, nor that I consider her a wonderful human being. Had we never met, and had I happened upon her memoir  ‘Late Bloomer’ by chance, I would still be equally as taken with it. However, since I’ve been following her blog (HERE) for some months, I was already prepared to love everything about Erica’s recounting of her life’s experiences thus far.

Beginning the narrative in her formative years, Erica shares victories and defeats, as well as fascinating excerpts from her decades-kept journals. A dysfunctional family, some personality quirks, and a burgeoning interest in spanking all coalesce to make for an awkward early adulthood, but Erica perseveres – and eventually thrives.

Although she is most known for her writing, videos, and love for all things spanking, Erica makes little reference to it throughout the first half of the book – but in the second? Oh boy…  

First spankings, then spanking parties, then spanking movies (then spanking books). Ms. Scott is a ‘spankophile’ of the highest order, and she’s no shrinking violet, anymore. (I can personally attest to this.) 

Funny, totally engaging, and full of attitude and saucy language, ‘Late Bloomer’ puts me in mind of ‘The Liar’s Club’ by Mary Karr, for it’s ability to convey so effortlessly the author’s perspective. Whether or not you’re a fan of spanking is irrelevant. If you enjoy well-written memoir, you’ll love reading this one.    – Dana

Five Star reviewed on Amazon.com. Read reviews HERE.

*****



DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Under Your Authority’: Original F/M Spanking Story



Readers,
Here is another excellent submission to my recent ‘Story of US’ writing contest. ‘Under Your Authority’, a story in five parts, is yet another example of the wonderful reader-submitted content which I have the good fortune to share with you, every month.  Enjoy!          – Dana

(Be sure to click on the ‘Read More’ link at the bottom of the visible text, in order to see the full post.)

*****



Under Your Authority 


Part 1 
“How long has it been, young man, since you’ve had a discipline spanking?” 
Out of the thin air of innocent conversation, the dreaded word had been spoken. I tried so hard to maintain an appearance of cool, but the color associated with that word had surely blossomed on my face to shine warm in the light of your office.  
“I asked you a question.” 
Avoiding eye contact, I shifted in my chair. “Over thirty years.” It had not been this difficult confessing through email. 
“You are very long overdue.” 
I searched frantically for an argument. Now that I was facing the music, I did not like the arrangement. “I’m really sorry.” 
You appeared to find my sincerity amusing. “Yes, I imagine you are. Really sorry to know what happens here to very bad boys.” 
“But I promise I’m going to change.” 
“That sounds sincere, Dear. However, for someone who has been misbehaving and avoiding the consequences since… when?” 
I did not know if you had really forgotten or just wanted to hear me say it. 
“When one who has been misbehaving since his rebellion decades ago promises to be a good boy, he lacks… what shall we say… credibility?” 
You smiled again, and it was a smile that made my breathing a conscious exercise. Under the circumstances it was terribly disconcerting to be seated across the desk from such a striking woman. Your smooth ability to take control of a situation was rendering me weightless.  
“I really mean it this time. I could pay you extra,” I sputtered, the words spilling from my mouth before I could stop them. “It would be the fine for my crime,” I blurted to amend, seeing the look of disdain cross your face. 
“Well, you warned me you might say anything.” You sat back in your chair with arms folded across your chest. “You’re not going to buy your way out of this. Did you offer to give your mother your allowance money when she got out the paddle?” 
We both knew I did not. 
“No, you would not have dared. Why would you dare make such an offer to me?” 
Your tone of voice was a deception, a pretty fish that will sting with poison. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kane. I wasn’t thinking. Please forget what I said.” 
“You were thinking alright. Thinking that I’m not really your mother today. Is that what you believe?” 
You had taken the role and were owning it. I was frozen in my seat, unable to find the air to speak to this younger woman with stylish dark hair framing perfectly her beautiful face. 
“Because if that is the case, I am going to disabuse you of that notion right now. We’ve discussed the nature of my authority, have we not?” 
I studied the back of my hand. I was able to nod. 
“Look at me, young man. Is that how you answer a question?” 
You have a way of speaking, so calm and under control, that made me so anxious and about to lose it. “Yes, we discussed your authority.” 
“And…?” 
I detected a slight irritation in your voice, and that is not a good thing. “You have total authority, no different than my parents had when I was a boy.” 
“Correct, Stephen. For all intents and purposes, when you are under my roof, I am your mother; I am your father. Are you ever going to forget that again?” 
I assured you I would not. Ms. Kane is judge, jury, and executioner. My insides were churning. You spoke with a hint of what sounded like sadness. “And I raise boys as you were raised, at least until the decision was made to stop providing you with the discipline that was so effective. Is there anything about this you fail to understand?” you asked me sweetly. “Do you need further clarification?”  
“No, Miss.” I studied my shoes. 
“Good. Then it is time to address your behavior. There will be no more negotiating. Have I made myself clear?” 
I uttered the affirmation, sat still in my seat rather than getting up and running. 



Part 2 
You were no longer behind your desk, and I was no longer at the safe distance across it. You had taken me by the hand and then walked me at a more brisk pace than I would have liked to the punishment room down the hall. Dressed simply as a woman might dress at home, your body language nevertheless spoke strictly business. I knew precisely what was happening, and the knowledge was a swarm of bats wanting to escape the dark cave that was my stomach. Had it really come to this? To a point where I was not in control and being marched to my comeuppance? I knew you were a woman of many talents, several of which Ms. Kane employs as a professional disciplinarian. 
“I want you to tell me again what you did that has you in so much trouble today.” 
If emailing you had not been easy, and then if talking to you from across your desk had been more difficult, then this now was impossible. You were seated firmly on a sturdy platform as I knelt before you. The intimacy was overwhelming. You had pulled me so close, your hands on my shoulders, your eyes the ruler of mine. I was a small planet attracted to a blazing sun falling helpless into your massive magnetic field. 
“It wasn’t so bad as I made out.”    
“Are you saying you lied to me in order to make a game of this?” 
“No! I’m sorry. I’m confused. I would never lie to you.” 
“Oh, really. And how can I be sure of THAT?” Your eyes sparkled prettily. “Don’t answer that.” You had placed your finger over my lips. “You better not lie to me now.” 
“I would not want to make something up to get in so much trouble.” 
“Then tell me again why you are in this room with me today. I want the truth and nothing but the truth.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
“Embarrassment goes with the territory in this room. I think you have good reason to be ashamed of yourself.” 
I tried to expel the words from my lungs. My mouth was in the way. You cupped my left cheek in your right palm, looked deep into my eyes. “Tell Momma what you did.” 
“I didn’t get my work done.” I spoke the words as if they were a full confession. 
“Yes and I warned you what would happen if that problem continued. But why did you not get your work done yesterday?” 
“I took a long lunch.” 
“You had better speak up, Stephen Eugene Roberts. You were a very bad boy, weren’t you?” 
My nod was a child’s. In my mind, I was a rebellious, irresponsible teenager—a bad boy in bad trouble at home. 
“What were you doing at lunch that prevented you from getting back to work?” 
Shame can be debilitating. Somehow, I managed to speak. “Watching the girl next door.” 
There it was. The confession I did not think I could make to another human face. There was a grim cast to your voice I had yet to hear. “Tell me all of it.”  
“Arienna was sunbathing at the pool. I could see her clearly from the window of my office upstairs.” 
“Do you know this girl?” 
“She’s the daughter of our neighbors.” 
“And why were you spying on her?” 
“She’s in college. She’s home early on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” 
“Does that answer my question?” 
“No. Sorry.” I was starting to catch my breath. Maybe confession really is good for the soul. “I see her car parked in front. Sometimes I check. I heard water splashing in the pool…” 
“Why are you ‘checking’ on her?” 
“She’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever seen,” I stammered. “I know that sounds pathetic.” 
“Indeed. A girl not half your age. How long did you spy on her? Was she at least decent?” 
“She was wearing her string bikini. I don’t know how long exactly. Maybe half an hour.” 
“You stood at your window and watched a girl sunbathe for thirty minutes? What, may I ask, is so special about this girl?” 
I could not look you in the eye. “Arienna is like a dream, the kind you wake up from out of breath and sweating.” 
“What makes her so special she has you acting like an adolescent?” 
“I think if you saw her you would know.” 
“I’ve seen hot, young girls,” you laughed. “They’re a dime a dozen. It’s amazing how male hormones can turn an ample chest and shapely behind into Venus and Aphrodite.” 
“She’s petite, Miss. Her hair is brown silk. Her face is so pretty, it could seduce a corpse.” 
“I hope you don’t think it funny that you were watching this young thing while she was in the privacy of her parents’ backyard.” 
“No, Ma’am.” I made sure I sounded contrite. It was not at all funny. 
“How unfortunate she can’t be here in this room right now to see what her seduction has amounted to. But I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 
I shook my head decisively. How much humiliation could I bear? It was hard enough to suffer for such a beautiful woman acting as my parent, but at least Ms. Kane understands me. It was only through that understanding that this was even possible. 
“So after watching this pretty girl in the sun, what kept you from work?” 
“I got distracted.” 
“That sounds like the truth but not the whole truth.” 
“I spent the rest of the afternoon on the computer. Looking…” 
“Looking for what? Or at what?” 
“Um…. for pictures. At pictures.” 
“And I can imagine the kind of pictures. Instead of doing your work. Spying on young girls and playing on the computer. That sounds to me like a young man earning himself some discipline. We had better get you undressed.” 
Part 3 
I was being undressed. Like in a dream I was unable to move. In a nightmare I needed to run. You resolutely went about unbuttoning and removing my dress shirt and then pulling over my head the shirt beneath. I was passive as a lamb as my insides roared in protest. 
“Stand up. Take your shoes and socks off.” 
You were sending me a message. Despite my lack of experience, the situation was to be treated as a serious matter. 
Where I had knelt I was now standing, the wood floor cool under my feet. You had unbuckled my belt, unsnapped my fly, and as you casually pulled down the zipper, it had still not registered fully for me that my pants would be coming down. It was surreal. Ms. Kane was going to take my pants down for a spanking! You worked them easily past my hips and they began to fall. I grabbed where my belt hung loose. It was merely survival instinct. You slapped my hand away and yanked the trousers down. 
“Step out of your pants. Now.” 
I did, and you whisked them out of the way. I was standing before you in the punishment room in my white cotton underpants. There was a desk behind you, and you turned to remove something from one of its drawers. 
“Do you think you’re going to regret how you behaved yesterday?” 
“I do regret it, Ms. Kane. I do.” 
You were holding a small object clearly designed for spanking. The round-bladed paddle cut from a thin sheet of dark wood shined hard in the overhead light of the punishment room. 
“Young man, you’ve only begun to regret it. You haven’t regretted your misbehavior the way you need to regret it since the last time you were punished properly.” 
The little paddle fit well in your hand, as if it were an extension of your hand, its size rendering it a hard wooden stand-in for your hand. Ms. Kane’s hand of justice. 
“It’s been so long,” I said, as if that could help me, and under my breath, “I’m not sure I can take this.” 
“Did you ever have any choice but to take it?” 
I shook my head in abject resignation. 
“We’ve been over this, haven’t we? I have a responsibility here. A parental responsibility. I will decide what is needed, what you have coming. This is not a game for your amusement or pleasure. Is that clear?” 
“Yes, Ma’am.” 
“You’ve been a very bad boy, and that is the last thing you want to be when you come to see me.” 
I felt I would melt right into the floor. I had tried many times through many years to imagine this moment, where I was to be held accountable precisely in this way. Those attempts had done little to prepare me. I could only clutch with desperation the security blanket of knowing I was in the hands of a professional and more; there was no one in the world better to handle this than Ms. Kane. 
“Let’s have you over my knee.” You tapped your leg with the hard little paddle. 
It happened fast, catching me off guard. Having been taken by the wrist and pulled, I was a rag doll upended over your lap, and before I could appreciate where I was, my face was at the floor, my feet were in the air, and I was being spanked. There was a moment where I was aware of the surface beneath me, warm and soft, but that feeling was then made irrelevant by a fire that had broken out on the seat of my underpants. You had immediately taken control of my senses. With brisk, sharp, wrist-snapping licks, you were peppering my behind with the hard flat of the little paddle, left cheek then right, every spank targeted deliberately to a same sorry spot upturned low on a matching buttock. Each and every yelp, wriggle, and kick produced from yours truly was purely genuine. I reacted without thought, and it was only when you stopped punishing that an awareness of where I was came back into focus. 
In a mild state of shock, I thought I could feel the shape of the paddle on two places behind me. The small round surface designed for bottom business had done the work of a branding iron, and for several moments I thought you might have burned two holes in the seat of my shorts. The discomfort quickly diminished to a pair of bearable twangs as the heat not contained by cotton continued to glow to warm the punishment room.  
“Am I making my point, young man?” 
I had yet to regain the breath to answer, but you were not waiting. I had to endure another ten sharp spanks rapid fire on my right cheek, and then a matching ten on the left. I kicked and howled my displeasure. 
“Yes, I believe I have your attention.” You were fussing with my underpants, tugging briefly at the waist and seams as if to arrange and smooth them to your satisfaction, and then I felt your palm exploring where underneath cotton my flesh was a choir singing. 
“Do you like Momma’s little paddle? I picked it special just for a bad little boy.” 
“No, Ma’am. I don’t like it.” 
“I’m afraid I can’t blame you for that.” 
Your fingers remained busy assessing the discipline you had administered. I welcomed the light touch much like a thirsty man accepts liquor. I managed not to admit an outward show of appreciation, and when you squeezed or, worse, pinched, I only squirmed to lodge my grievance.     
“Stand up.” 
I was relieved both to be released from the awkward and uncomfortable position and that my punishment was over. Overall, it had not been so bad as expected. The moments while I was being paddled were bad, but it had not taken long, and the pain had become actually quite manageable. A little soreness for a day or two would only serve to remind me that the beautiful and talented Ms. Kane had taken the time to correct me. 
“Turn around. Let’s see the damages.” You lowered my underpants and allowed them to fall to my feet. I was painfully aware that you were seeing a full closeup of my bare behind. My hands instinctively sought to cover myself in front. You asked me to bend a little at the waist. 
“Isn’t this cute? I’m impressed with how this little paddle can redden so nicely. It appears your jockeys did little to afford you protection.” 
How it embarrassed me to have you appraise my paddled rear, but I was not surprised by your evaluation. Where you had punished felt red. It felt very red, and I knew my lack of experience was a susceptibility to marking. As I cringed and self-consciously covered my front, I felt your cool fingers on my blazing skin. 
“When you leave the punishment room today, you’ll be wishing never to see Momma’s little paddle again.” 
Your words registered as confusion. I turned to you. “No, Ms. Kane, I never want to see it again. Should I get dressed now?” 
“Not yet, sweetheart,” you said, your voice tinged with sympathy. “Momma needs to paddle on the bare today.” 
“No, please!” I was startled and panic was rising. I really had thought it finished.  
“Baby, this is no time for you to attempt to evade justice. I am sure I made it very clear what happens in the punishment room. Tell me what happens here to very bad boys.” 
There was no way I wanted to answer that. 
“If you have forgotten, then I will make an extra effort to impress the fact on you.” 
Your beautiful eyes were blue ice, and with a set to your jaw that had my mouth moving. “No, I know. Very bad boys get punished. Really punished.”  
“How are they punished?” you insisted, your impatience apparent.  
“You spank them. On the bare butt.” My face was surely glowing. 
“Yes. I always spank very bad boys on their very bare bottoms, and don’t think for a second that you are an exception to the rule. Your behavior needs to change.” 
“It will change, I swear!” 
“I bet you said the same thing years ago. What could you have expected as a reply?” 
I knew but had no desire to answer. 
“The philosophy is that your promises will be far more meaningful after the discipline has been fully administered. Let’s have you back over my knee.” 
The panic that had flared was coursing through my bloodstream. I was all the more vulnerable and, upended again across your lap, it was apparent that nothing was going to come between my tender flesh and that nasty little paddle. I now knew the threat posed, but this time you did not immediately apply the punishment. 
“Tell me why I have to do this.” 
“For discipline.” 
“I think that’s fairly obvious. Why are you being disciplined?” You were alternately setting the flat of the wood on the two spots you had already reddened, to measure your target or perhaps to announce your intentions. 
“I didn’t get my work done.” 
“I sincerely hope you’re not minimizing the trouble.” 
I felt the paddle, hard and uncompromising. “I spied on Arienna. I know it was wrong. I invaded her privacy.” 
“And now I must handle this. Correct?” 
“Yes,” I admitted, but I sounded so unhappy about it. 
“Do you trust Momma to punish?” 
I again admitted defeat. At the risk of sounding as if I am reading from a text book on the subject, the essence of providing positive, effective punishment is the disciplinarian’s considered determination of what is needed based on the offense and its frequency in congruence with the nature and experience of the offender. Right then it mattered not what I wanted. I was trapped on the lap of righteous maternal justice. I had placed my complete trust in your ability to measure both my needs and constitution, knowing you sincerely enjoyed spanking naughty boys and girls, but with the assurance of a commitment to providing a sensible authority figure for those who needed fair and measured discipline. Ms. Kane is the ultimate arbitor of justice. Placed in the best of hands, I would worship at the alter of your divine judgment, giving me good reason to trust and with equal good reason to fear. I could trust I was in for a spanking I was not going to forget. 
Part 4 
This is the most difficult part of the story to tell. It is the part that feels the most private, the part that for anyone not in that room for those moments an event that may be viewed only more thinly through the imagination. Only you and I share the full flesh and blood of those dramatic minutes. 
The second paddle spanking, this one on the bare skin of my upturned buttocks, was applied with a different strategy than the first. It was apparent that your method was to prolong the experience to make it a more conscious and palpable lesson. We both were aware that my novice’s flesh was in no condition for the harshest severity. 
You had me cross my wrists behind me in a formal surrender, and holding my hands against my back, you started with alternating spanks on the two spots you had punished previously, not as hard on skin as cotton, but each made to sting like an angry hornet. To the otherwise silent punishment room, reverberating with the sharp crack of the paddle, there was little to distinguish the activity but for one pause where I had to be told to keep my feet down. I did not like Momma’s little paddle. There was something inherent in the grain of wood to bite the surface of its target with a sting greater than the damage caused, an ideal voice with which to scold a very bad boy turned over for his first adult spanking. After a good ration of stingers you paused and waited for me to stop squirming. 
“You’re not going to get away with anything this time, are you, Stephen?” 
“No, Ma’am!” I almost shouted, not quite so loud as the message instilled by the paddle. 
You seemed many times larger than your physical size; I felt small pitched forward over your lap, and it was apparent now that your intention was to make me sorry where I sit, where I was uncomfortably aware of every lick you had given me.  
“I hope you’re thinking, not only about yesterday’s shameful behavior, but about all the years leading to this moment.” 
This moment was fire as you brought flat judgment down swiftly, one very meaningful rebuke to the softest spot on each buttock. 
“Keep your feet down. I don’t want to have to tell you again.” Your direction was punctuated with more fire-hot spanks to where I was most vulnerable. My feet complained but obeyed your directive. 
“That’s better. You can kick like a little girl… if you must… but don’t you dare interfere with your punishment. 
Your words sting my face even now, but at the moment dignity was not my priority. I was not sure how much more I could take. I was helpless in facing both the paddle and your indictment. 
“Such a bad boy you have been. The grief you put your parents through as a teenager…” Where buttock meets thigh, you delivered two hard spanks low on my bottom causing me to exhale a low moan, a burn scolding me with a voice as bitter of acid as my disciplinarian’s voice had been laced of honey.  
“The irresponsibility that has been a burden on your wife…” Again you punished sit spots with fire. “The temper you too often have not controlled…” You repeated the sit-spot scolding. “The self-indulgence…” Two more doses of paddle punishment from a strict disciplinarian. “This is the spanking you should have been given.” 
I was surely getting it now, a bad boy’s comeuppance over your knee, the little firecracker in your hand falling ten times on the crowns of my behind, five crisp ringing out in the air of the punishment room setting a new blaze on the left, then five just as brisk to burn the right. I prayed silently for you to stop but did not interfere with the spanking you were fashioning for me. 
“Are you ashamed of yourself, Stephen?” 
You had asked me sweetly, no assault on the ears but rather a tug to the heart. My eyes were beginning to well, ready to cry about more than my burning bottom. 
“I am very disappointed in you.” 
The dagger. “I know. I’m sorry.” I was sputtering, but you were already spanking again with no discernable pattern. In your infinite wisdom, and by some scheme known only to Ms. Kane, the stiff medicine you were administering was being applied with a perfect abandon and in short bursts of scalding heat. I was not aware of my crying until having realized my face was dripping. 
“Baby, your days of doing as you please are over.” I was aware of your palm rubbing my bottom where it burned, as gentle as your words assured me. “I am in charge now, and you are going to be the good boy you have always wanted to be.” 
“Yes, Momma, I will,” I cried as your now scolding hand propelled me over the edge. For this blazing moment I was a boy and you my mother. Perception was reality. 
Part 5 
I was at the window watching when she appeared on cue, Arienna, padding softly on small bare feet to the pool lounge, slowly pushing little shorts down that had done little to conceal the shape of her. As expected, more peaches and cream were revealed, long hair shimmered and a glint of silver from her ear caught the late afternoon sun as she turned her head to face me. She knew she was being watched, had always known. She looked up, large eyes accepting, blood-red, bee-stung mouth offering a kiss so sweet it would burn where placed forever. 
She had let herself in, walked up the stairs and was now standing over me in her tiny string bikini, a giant in all but size and me in my bed unable to move a muscle. She brought her face close to mine and the air was pretty flowers. Her skin was smooth as I had never imagined, bright eyes deeper, nose a button of dearer perfection and candy lips, even more generous, lifted ever so briefly from sweet petulance to a playful, wicked promise.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” 
Her pout opened, and I saw the flash of fear in large brown eyes. Arienna turned abruptly to the voice behind her. 
“Nothing, Ma’am, I promise.” 
“Nothing?” said Ms. Kane. “You do not belong here, and certainly not dressed, or shall we say, undressed, like this.”
    
“I’m sorry.” I heard the surrender in the girl’s voice. The beautiful woman was already seated on the edge of the bed, tapping her thigh with the hard little paddle. “You’ve only begun to be sorry.” 
“No, Mommy, please!” I had never seen anything so vulnerable as Arienna’s heart-shaped little behind, the skin so refined it might blush if touched lightly. Her slender form was upended across Ms. Kane’s thighs, the stinging hornet raised to bring down fiery redemption and I was fighting to break the bonds holding me when I arose gasping. 
Had it all been a dream? 
On my back in bed, I was uncomfortable in more ways than one. Not all a dream, but I got up and followed my urge to the mirror in the bathroom to check the evidence again. Before falling asleep, I had crawled into bed naked, and now my reflection over the sink showed that I was still wearing only the lesson imprinted that afternoon. The little paddle had left its signature circle twice, two matching sit spots as ruby red as Arienna’s most seductive pout. The hornet’s hive you had angered there was still temperamental. It was an oddly comforting sight, nonetheless, and pleasantly stirring to see how you had deftly, dare ruthlessly, painted a bad boy’s bottom. The precise and deliberate way you had marked me told of a punishment administered fully under control and without distraction. The evidence was unmistakable, stating loud and plain that Ms. Kane was now my absolute authority. She had taken time and care to intelligently perform her focused task and had left me with her clear and measured judgment. I could not stop thinking of you. 
I returned to bed wondering how many bad boys and girls were in their beds at that moment preferring to sleep on their stomachs. The spanking had been as painful as I had feared but not beyond to a point of regret. The physical pain had not been my primary fear. What had caused me the most concern was the emotional pain I might suffer. I had visions of unbearable humiliation and wondered if, when all was said and done, I would leave your studio an empty shell of a man having paid a woman to beat him for his failures. So what relief to have fallen into nurturing arms. Ms. Kane had punished me in the service of her pleasure and my well-being. To submit to her had been a privilege. She had made me feel safe and well cared for, and accepted even as she lectured and scolded a very bad boy. I had been allowed to reveal my shame to a Goddess, to lay at her feet my secret offering. Now I lay in bed with her imperial mark upon me. If only I could sleep, to dream, to return to where Ms. Kane was ruler of the kingdom.

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

Book Review: The Adult Spanking and Discipline Handbook, by Ms Gemma Forbes



Governess Gemma Forbes’ new book, ‘The Adult Spanking and Discipline Handbook’, is familiar and warmly-written. It’s also an everything-you-need-to-know edition of pure spanking knowledge. 


Ms. Forbes’ years of experience grant us access to her wisdom – and her book reminds us that we are many (after all, nobody would make such an exceptional effort if there weren’t others to read it.)


With chapters addressing subjects such as Tools and Toys, Pushing Limits, and Erotic Spankings, The Adult Spanking and Discipline Handbook covers it all – and then some (see the chapter on ‘Going Pro’).

Five Star Reviewed on Amazon.com. Read reviews HERE.


– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Formulas’: An Amazing Story of US Contest Entry


What follows is an extraordinary example of creative writing. Penned by a UK reader (unfortunately as a non-contestant), this is simply delightful! From the Story of US writing contest, please enjoy ‘Formulas’.   – Dana

(Be sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text in order to display the full post.)

*****

Examination question: Formulas

Dear Readers,

I must start with a confession. I’ve never been much good with exams, especially anything scientific. As will no doubt be clear from this story, I am no scientist. However, this particular branch of science, concerning what attracts people to spanking, is one that I’m very interested in, which makes a big difference. 

On this occasion I stared at the exam paper. It said:

“Explain the formula U + ME = US, using other relevant formulas to illustrate your answer”.

I’d not come across this before, so there was no easy or ready-made answer to churn out. It had to be worked out in my head, which I guess was the point of the question. This was what I came up with.

The first task must be to define U and ME. 

Of these the central character is U. U = DK (Dana Kane). It should be noted carefully that in the equation U + ME = US, U is always the dominant factor. What must also be recognised is that U is unique, since there is only one DK. For many people this is a matter of regret, since the world would be a better place if there were more DK’s, but you cannot argue with the facts.

Secondly, we must note that DK (U) can also be represented by the formulas SBW (stunningly beautiful woman) and SSp (strict spanker). Therefore U=SBW+SSp.

We need to examine both SBW and SSp. It could be argued that SBW is subjective; unfortunately photographs are not allowable within exam answers but I contend that were this not the case then SBW would be proved beyond any reasonable doubt. 

SSp can take many forms. Of these the most common is otk, which needs no explanation. It is, however, a favourite of both U and ME, thus providing the formula USSp+ME(otk)=US, which goes a long way towards explaining the basic formula in question. 

Now, to continue with the basic definitions. 


ME = UKM (United Kingdom male). That’s straightforward. After that, breaking down ME becomes more complicated. My ex-wife once described me as a Pvt (pervert), which could be a compliment but sadly that was far from her intention (she wasn’t into Sp), so we’ll overlook that one. ME certainly also = SpWP (spankophile writer and practitioner) but the distinctive feature of ME = CL (cane lover), and C is likely to feature highly in any explanation of ME.

So, what are the more detailed formulas that need to be explored in determining the basic equation in question? There are a number of relevant formulas to take into account. However, before proceeding to look at these, it is essential to look at the major elements used in the formulas. 


(i) SoB (sore bottom) is a key formula, appearing as an outcome of all combinations of U and ME. It should be noted that SoB is always linked to, and part of, ME. 

(ii) I have already mentioned Sp (spanker, spanks or spanking) and C (cane). However, there some refinements to these basic elements:

Sp, using the hand (s), can be reinforced by the addition of Hb (hairbrush) or Pa (paddle). This has the effect of increasing SoB (sore bottom) to VSoB (very sore bottom). 

The properties of C are most interesting. Being a natural product, every rattan cane is unique, which is one of the reasons why ME=CL. In passing it may be noted also that a vital element of CL is SwCHR (swishy crook-handled rattan) but these are refinements that need not be explored further in answering today’s question. It is sufficient to recognise the essential and common properties of C, which are the production of StESoB (striped and extremely sore bottom). ESoB can be increased further by using DC (dragon cane).

(iii) Sine, cosine and tangent are terms used in trigonometry (the study of triangles] that shed further light on the formula in question. For use in formulas these terms are normally shortened to sin, cos and tan. When otk, ME may be represented by the symbol ^, since the body bent over the knee resembles an inverted V. If a line, representing the lap of U, is drawn underneath ^  we create a triangle . In relation to U+ME=US, we are not concerned with measuring the area of the triangle but sin and tan are still relevant since ME-sin is always followed by U-tan. (Though not strictly relevant to the question set, it is nonetheless interesting to note that an anagram of sin, cos, tan is “S no can sit”; in the present context of U, ME and otk that ought to be “ME no can sit”, but hey, life isn’t perfect.)

(iv) Two other elements are important to mention: Hu (humour) and Cr (creativity). These elements are vital to an understanding of both U and ME.

Now, on to the important associated formulas.

1. DK+50hSp=SoB4ME 

In this formula hSp represents hard spanks and, as I have stated, SoB represents sore bottom. It should be noted that the number 50 is given only as an example; the number preceding hSp is determined by DK and will vary according to the properties and recent behaviour of ME, which is variable. What is inevitable and invariable in the equation is SoB for ME.

2. U+60Sp+40SpPa+20SpHb+12C=VSoB4ME. 

This formula represents a more serious situation than formula 1. As in that example, the numbers may vary. I refer back to (iii) above regarding sin and tan. The greater the extent of sin, so tan will increase proportionally, and this will be reflected by higher numbers and additional elements, as here.

3. DK+C6otb=redStB4ME 

This formula can be confusing as otb represents both ‘of the best’ and ‘on the bare’. Deciding which is meant can normally be avoided by assuming it means both. This formula is mostly used in association with C (cane) or DC (dragon cane) and may be accompanied by (JFS) ‘just for starters’, or, as it is now more commonly stated (A) = aperitif. Where used as the main ingredient it becomes an essential formula, and is likely to be expressed as (6otb)2 or  (6otb)*(6otb), especially when applied to ME. For variety, the formula C(6otb)*3+DC(6otb)*3=EredSoStB (extremely red and sore striped bottom) provides for particular satisfaction to both U and ME.

A complicating factor with 6otb is V (velocity). The speed and power with which each of the 6otb is applied (6otb*V) affects the outcome, but to keep matters straightforward it is best just to recognise that in all cases the formula will be (6otb*V)=Ow! V simply affects how loudly Ow! is expressed. 

4. U+ME÷AO

This formula is the most problematic in explaining U+ME=US. Being divided by the AO (Atlantic Ocean) presents a major obstacle. However, both U and ME are exploring ways in which this obstacle can be overcome. Meanwhile, DKbl (Dana Kane’s blog) and MEw (ME writing) enable a link to be maintained. 

So, to explain the formula U+ME=US. 

As we have seen, Sp provides the essential link, being present in both U and ME. Since Sp is inherent to both parts of the equation (U and ME) it does not need to be explicitly stated, except when looking in detail at US. For most purposes it can be assumed. 

In addition, a further common element to both U and ME is PnPl (pain and pleasure). Note that Pn and Pl are inextricably linked. It should also be noted here that while DK= PnG (pain giver) and ME=PnR (pain receiver), the combination PnG+PnR=Pl2 shows that both parties take great pleasure from the interaction. It is also the case that Pl2=US.

Pl2  can also be expressed as 2HP (happy people).

In full, therefore, the formula DK+Sp+C=RedStSB4ME=2HP, but since RedStSB4ME = 2HP, and DK=U it is reasonable to reasonable to express the formula more simply as U+Sp+C+ME=2HP.

However, I have shown already that Sp and C are essential elements of both U and ME, therefore this too can be assumed and we need simply to state that U+ME=2HP. This conclusion may also be reached by recognising that both DK and ME are  themselves HP, therefore DK+ME=2HP

I have also shown (above) that 2HP is derived from Pl2 and thatPl2 = US. Thus it is evident that 2HP=US. Therefore, since both U and ME are HP, it can be clearly seen that U+ME=US.

OK readers, I told you that science was not my strong point. I hope you managed to get through all that, and that your head isn’t spinning too much from all those formulas. I don’t know yet what marks the examiner will award (though I do have an inkling of what kind they are likely to be!). However, the ‘bottom line’ of this story is that all you really need to do is BO (bend over) and let the wonderful Miss Dana Kane do what she does best. That is the essence of all of US.

*****

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Video Teaser: The Moving Man – Las Vegas or Bust



As you know, I am moving to Las Vegas this week.  It’s been a hectic few days, trying to get everything packed up and ready to go, but I’ve managed to pull it off.


Now I just have to get the movers in here to load up the truck and I’m off to my new home…

Why is it that things are never as simple as they should be?


*****
I’ll post up the video just as soon as the coding’s done. Enjoy~
– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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One of my favorite F/M Spanking Blogs: Spanked by My Lady


  Readers,

While I enjoy many of the wonderful spanking blogs out there, a few are especially notable. Today, I’d like to take a few minutes to talk about  Spanked By My Lady  – Adventures in a Female Led Relationship. Mostly written by Ken, the blog details the escapades of he and his wife/HoH, Cora.

There are a lot of things to love about this blog: Ken’s writing style is familiar and engaging, he and Cora’s relationship is obviously strong and happy, and….well, it’s usually quite funny.

A recent post, titled ‘Rules’, is an excellent example.

Spanked By My Lady is chock-full of photos of Cora and Ken in various states of spanking and discipline fun, and Cora’s sexy, stern look is classic disciplinarian.


What? You’re not there yet?    http://spankedbymylady.blogspot.com


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking Court meets Tampa Tanners – and Leather Thorn!

The Spanking Court spent this past weekend in Tampa, Florida, filming cases and getting to know the awesome folks from Tampa Tanners. There’s a whole lot of misbehaving going on, and several of the Tanners’ ladies ended up being hauled into Court themselves.
We also had the grim task of dealing harshly with Miss Whitney Morgan. The incorrigible Ten Amorette was also back, and Judge Spanks was not even remotely happy to see her.

Sweet Shy was a particular stand-out as well, as this was her first ever on-camera spanking – and she’s only 18!
*****

The Tampa Tanners Back-to-School Bash was a great get-together with some of the friendliest spankos I’ve met to date. Thomas, Cookie, and Katia were such excellent hosts, and we all felt right at home.

I had a particularly nice time taking the strap and cane to Red Palmer (who, I might add, gives as good as he gets by the looks of the many spankings he doled out over the course of the weekend).

I’d just arrived in Tampa, and hadn’t even taken my sweater off yet…

Good times.


Of course, Cali and Heinz are always ready for some fun spanking:

And none of us could resist doing a little shopping:
The Villain and me showing off our purchases.

Cookie was found GUILTY.


And I even walked away from the Door Prize drawing with two Cane-iac canes. 

The 24″ Lexan cane:

And the 26″ Rattan cane:
I am looking forward with great anticipation to using them, naturally.

*****

Talent Alert!! Prepare to be as impressed as I am with:


I was completely blown away by the craftsmanship of these handmade leather implements: flawless, heavy-duty paddles, straps, loops, and tawses embossed with gorgeous designs which really leave their mark on an upturned bottom.




I met John, owner and artisan, at the Tampa Tanners Vendor Fair. He’s as sublime as his work, and I had such fun talking paddles with him. Although I wanted every single one of them, I managed to reserve myself to one:

I chose The Brat, with a Burgundy handle and diamond pattern…

I have used it twice already, and am well-pleased with both the intensity of the impact, and the gorgeous diamond paddle it leaves.


He also holds ‘Name The Paddle’ Contests – if your entry is chosen, you win the paddle free!
The latest contest is HERE.

Take a look around the site – I guarantee you’ll find something that strikes your fancy. And when you do…tell John that I sent you.

*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Ms Mona Rogers in L.A. Aug. 22nd



My dear friend Ms. Mona Rogers will be visiting Los Angeles, August 22nd through the end of the month. Very choosy about her playthings, Mona is a seasoned BDSM player with an impressive set of skills. Did I mention that she’s also a knockout?..


A true administrator of intense corporal punishments, Mona also possesses some of the loveliest feet and legs you’ll ever have the great good fortune of worshipping. She is in a class by herself…and you’ll definitely need to book in advance:

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The Naughty Chair, Tampa Tanners, and Vegas dates



The lovely and truly talented writer Erica Scott posted a blog recently which included this little number:


‘The Naughty Chair‘ – Delightful!

Crafted by one of Erica’s playmates, it is designed to cause a lovely bulls-eye design on either a pre- or post-spanked bottom.  The Naughty Chair looks like pure fun..and pure evil.

Fair warning to all playmates: I am hoping to negotiate one of these for my collection.

*****

I am packing my things for the Tampa Tanners Back-to-School Bash, in Tampa, Florida, August 19-21.


In my official capacity as Bailiff for Spanking Court, I’ll be helping Judge Spanks and our illustrious Disciplinarian, The Villain, to mete out the Court’s particular brand of justice.



*****

My planned move to Las Vegas on September 1 is coming together nicely.  I have very limited availability in Los Angeles until August 30th, 2011. Email for details.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Story of US Contest Entry: Visiting Dana


Readers,
Here is one of the wonderfully imaginative entries for the ‘Story of US’ Writing Contest. Every single entry tickles me endlessly, and I do hope that you enjoy them as well.

– Dana
*****
Visiting Dana


Calling.
With a diffident and hesitant explanation, I tell you that I need punishment.

Arranging.
A time to suit your busy schedule.

Planning.
A schedule which would get me in the right place, at the right time.

Searching.
The streets in your neighbourhood, which are long and confusingly named.

Standing.
On your porch, feeling guilty, shameful and excited, all at the same time.

Apologising.
For being late.

Worrying.
At the sight of your special room and the instruments on the table.

Stripping.
At your request when you leave the room.

Placing.
Myself in the corner, as instructed.

Waiting.
Eyes down, hands crossed behind my back.

Listening.
To the fast beat of my heart and to the sounds of your studio.

Hearing.
Your soft footfall and the swish in the still air.

Turning.
At your request, and going to centre stage.

Hearing.
The awful sounding sentence for my misdeeds and lateness.

Bending.
Feet apart, legs straight, toes pointed inwards.

Feeling.
The cool thin rattan tap, tap, tapping my bottom.

Stretching.
Back arched, cheeks higher, thighs taut.

Receiving.
The first stroke landing on bare cool skin.


Resolving.
To remain in place for the next harsh stroke and the next and the next.

Counting.
Trying to remember the strokes but without success.

Rising.
Only to be told to resume the position and take the extra strokes.

Cursing.
Not a good idea.

Blessing
The end of the tariff and my punishment.

Dressing.
And looking admiringly in the mirror, at the 40 red lines, so evenly spaced apart.

Leaving.
And thanking you. Strange. What drives me to thank you for a thrashing?

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Book Review: Kink and the City, by J. Smith



Author John Smith set out to get reacquainted with his kinky roots – and succeeded beyond his own wildest expectations. The result is the (often tongue-in-cheek) recounting of one man’s romp through the renowned halls of some of BDSM’s most well-played dungeons. Informative, often hilarious, and always simply dripping with sarcasm, Kink and the City (an Englishman in New York) will ring true to many who have taken a ride on the wilder side of life.


Mr. Smith uses laughingly-accurate pseudonyms to describe some of the more interesting characters he’s encountered, although I am certain that some must find themselves frightfully easy to spot. ‘Trust Fund Trudy’ is a favorite..along with all the rest (most of whom have a penchant for spanking, I might add). Stories abound of BDSM gone wrong, right, and every direction in between.  
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Well, maybe not. Either way, you’ll love reading about someone who has – and lived to tell the tale.


Thanks to John for providing a copy of the book, and for allowing us a peek behind his door.


(Rated five stars on Amazon.com – read reviews HERE.)
– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Understanding Male Bottoms



Those uninitiated to the nuances of spanking play, corporal punishment, and the general world of BDSM may have difficulties understanding why a successful, intelligent, well-rounded and likely ‘dominant’ man would ever allow himself to be topped, disciplined, or punished for being naughty.


Occasionally, even others among our ranks assume a hard-headed ignorance of the why’s and wherefore’s of the male bottom perspective.


Some do not understand the concept of Role-Play. Some do not understand the concept of Play itself, in any form, and are very likely missing some integral empathy gene.


The truth is really quite simple:
Becoming a successful adult male is tough. I do not speak only of financial successes: education, temperance, mannerly behavior, good parenting and partner skills, and the desire and drive for knowledge are all necessary components of adult male (and female, for that matter) success.


We all need a break. From work. From stress. From responsibility.


Sometimes, and for some men, spanking – and other BDSM-related activities – is a way to shrug away the stress, let go the responsibility, and allow someone else to be in control…if only for a short time. 


These men are most usually not submissives. They most certainly are not slaves. They do not crave cruel, sadistic dominance from a cold-spirited humiliatrix.


What they do crave is understanding. It should be easy to understand why a person would feel a buildup of  stress feelings after a full week of dealing with possibly incompetent coworkers, missing out on family/social commitments – or making every one of them and missing out on sleep, driving in traffic, and generally dealing with the things that make us all a bit crazy every day.


It should also be easy to understand why, then, a person may choose to receive a stern lecture regarding his treatment of employees, or a disciplinary spanking to reinforce time-management, or even to be made to stand in the corner – to think about what he has done.


Equally as simple should be the concept that one may enjoy wearing panties, or being made to kiss the feet of his playmate, in order to not only feel closer to the gentler side of himself but to allow himself some modicum of shame, which we’re all now taught is something to be hidden or despised.


This is not, for any number of wholly inexplicable societal reasons, a side of themselves that most men are able to share freely. And those who do are sometimes viewed as less masculine, less ‘dominant’ for their pursuits…a most ill-informed and patently wrong assessment. To a man, they are just as manly as any other man on any other day in any other situation.


And don’t you forget it.


Most Sincerely,
Dana Kane

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
spanking psa
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New Dana Kane Video: ‘Spanked in his Panties, Again’


Readers, 

I am happy to be able to share with you, by request, a short part of the video made with one of my lovely playmates recently. 
We have such fun role-playing and he looks so very pretty in ‘my pink panties’.
He’s been kind enough to send along some thoughts on our most recent playtime…following the video.

– Dana
*****
CLICK THE IMAGE BELOW TO OPEN THE VIDEO IN A NEW WINDOW.





*****
Dear Ms. Kane –

It was wonderful being with you again the other day.
 
Two days later, as I sit here typing this, I can feel the tender, sensitive spots on my bottom – particularly that area where the top of my thighs meets my bottom.  It is a wonderful reminder of the fantastic spanking and paddling you gave me.
 
I can’t really describe the flood of sensations I experience being spanked and punished by you. The initial act of being caught in women’s clothing and lingerie immediately puts me in a submissive, embarrassed but excited state. Having to display my pink-pantied bottom to you while you chastise me for dressing like a sissy increases both my excitement and my embarrassment. 
 
The soft silky feel of wearing panties and stockings is incredibly sensual but the realization that I am a man dressed in silky little panties, bra, high heels and stockings puts me in such a submissive state that I know the only place I should be is over your knee receiving a harsh paddling.
  

That moment of being placed over your knee; feeling the cool rush of air on my pantied bottom as my skirt is raised; the embarrassment and excitement as my panties are lowered to my knees and my bottom is exposed; the rush of anticipation, excitement and fear as I wait for that first stinging contact between my upturned bottom and your hand is exquisite.
 
And, the moment that the spanking begins, knowing that it will continue for quite some time, until my bottom is hot and throbbing from the strict application of your hand, paddles and canes to my writhing, reddened bottom, fills me with both dread and joy.
 
And, after my punishment is complete, as I reflect on the sensual thrill of my punishment, I realize this is where I belong: in panties, over your knee, with a hot, red throbbing bottom, at your mercy, glad to be punished for your entertainment and amusement. 
 
Thank you. I can’t wait to be over your knee again. 

*****

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Video Teaser: Spanked in his Panties. Again

After searching everywhere for my favorite black dress, I walked in to the bedroom to find HIM wearing it – along with my cutest pink lingerie! Whatever will I do with him for dressing like a sissy behind my back?
“Spanked
I’ll soon upload the video (shared upon request of my fantastic playmate, pictured here), so that you may see for yourself.
– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Discipline as Therapy



Most prospective playmates do not write to me requesting severe punishments or harsh treatment. Most have no interest in experiencing unrealistic levels of discomfort or in reliving any childhood traumas. 


They write seeking respite, relaxation, and peace of mind. 


There is no empirical data on impact play as therapy, of course, but I am willing to wager that there are some interesting correlations between spanking and mood elevation. 


Post-play, ‘spankers’ AND ‘spankees’ report decreased muscle tension, clarity of thought, and increased positive energies. For many, anxieties and depressive tendencies are lessened – a well-known fact among those of us who enjoy this type of activity.


Consider that endorphins are the brain chemicals which release ‘feel good’ feelings. Neurotransmitters and endorphins are released both during times of strenuous physical activity and of emotional peaks and valleys. Hence, the ‘rush’ experienced after a run, a workout, or a heated debate. 


This same process naturally occurs during spanking play. 


The bottom line? 
Get a spanking (or give one) – it’ll make you feel better.


– Dana

DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
spanking psa
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A Medley of Interesting Search Terms



Analytics reveal many useful statistics: numbers and charts and 
graphs which we may use to magically manipulate the internet…
or something.
They also reveal a host of entertaining search terms entered by
internet users to reach a particular site. Here are a handful of the
searches which have led to my blog:


“excellent disciplinarian danakane” – Why, thank you..


“a gay drunk man dress as a baby getting a spanking for peeing-
 love story”  –   Excuse me?


“Crack Spanking”  –   Guilty


“blogspot.danacane.com”  –   Close. But not really.


“she harshley spanking bad boys with a paddel” – Another near miss.


“dana nauggty blogspot”  –  Almost had it that time..


“spanked completely bare with a green pepper” – Food fetish, maybe?

“whenever you have spanking and tears go to the place of sky”
– Likely my favorite thus far, I’m guessing that this is one of those 
tragic Google Translate attempts.


“spanking for discipline is wrong” – This person most certainly 
ended up in the wrong place. I hope that the shock didn’t kill them.


– Dana

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