I’m fiddling with the blog’s layout, so it’s going to look a little weird for a day or two, but everything’s still here. Browse on!
Old TV stuff you probably don’t care about (TUS)
Readers,
A short while ago, Erica wrote a blog post about a hilarious Johnny Carson routine from more than a few years ago…and apparently it got a cool reception. Probably because she wasn’t talking about Rhyming-Name-girl or Justice Beaver or one of those other pop celebrity thingy people – he was only one of the funniest guys on television at the time.
In celebration of Erica’s beloved-Carson-post-fail, I thought I’d add some of my own television nostalgia to the mix. Here’s something that you likely never saw and could probably live without seeing now, but which still makes me laugh every time I watch it:
Spanking PSA : Puritanical much, Dana Kane?
Readers,
Mind if I slide my soapbox out from under the sofa? It’ll only take a minute…
I know that there are as many kinds of fetishists as there are people and that variety speaks for a lot, but I seem to be experiencing an uptick in the number of Unacceptable Correspondences of late and have to comment on a few things which I believe all of us should already know.
*For the uninitiated, these are called Common Courtesies in my house (which includes my blog, my email, and anything else which I can selfishly call mine).
**I should also mention that many of these things MAY not get you into trouble with every disciplinarian, and I make no statement or judgment about other’s acceptable practices. What I WILL say is that you’re not likely to get yourself into trouble anywhere else, if you follow a few simple protocols.
How to Not Insult the Lady with the Paddle
1. Although it’s terribly difficult, try not to refer to your genitals in correspondence. Seriously, we all have them, so you’re not bestowing any groundbreaking information with Junk Talk – and trust me, we’ve all heard entirely too many genital details already. Be original and try sticking to things like thoughts, feelings, and ideas. Hey, maybe even spanking!
2. Same goes for filthy language. I don’t mean general use curse words here, but the ones you’d never say in front of your grandma. A good rule of thumb is that, if you wouldn’t say it at grandma’s 90th birthday party, then I probably don’t want to hear it either.
3. Sex. See #1. If I specifically ask about your sex life, sexual technique, or sex ninja exploits – well, you’ll be the first.
(Now’s a good time to say that I a)talk about sex, b)have sex, and c)can be a downright bawdy gal under the right circumstances, so I’m not saying don’t BE who you are. Simply BE the you who has sense enough not to talk about that crap to me – especially if we don’t even know one another in Real Life.)
4. Play by the rules. This one’s specifically for those who exuberantly share/submit their spanking stories before ever having read the posting guidelines. Again, there is much information on the nature of my puritanical and iron-fisted demand for squeaky-cleanliness.
5. Don’t ask me to explain the rules of engagement to you; if you’ve reached the ripe old age of (fill in the blank) without the good sense to behave politely then I cannot help you.
6. If you’re lucky enough to get away with a “warning” about your behavior, heed it. Most don’t get a second, and nobody gets a third. You want discipline, buddy? Here ya go…discipline yourself right out the door.
7. Remember that your disciplinarian is not a prostitute, phone sex worker, sexual wellness counselor, or humping post. If your sexual needs are going unmet, it’s your responsibility to see to them. In other words, try to get laid someplace else, ’cause I’m just here for the spanking. Thanks.
8. The bottom line: As I spank my way around this country, yanking both men and women across my lap in what is always a private and intimate setting, I want to be just as comfortable and able-to-trust as you are in that moment. You can make that happen *just like that* by simply minding your manners.
Is that asking too much? Because, if it is, I’ll quote MY grandma:
“Don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya.”
– Dana
PS. I’ll add that you don’t want to become part of a pop culture cautionary tale, either..
My friend Erica Scott receives so much trollish email that she’s put it all together into a BOOK – called Correspondence Hall of Shame. She’s recorded hundreds (if not thousands) of rude, embarrassing, and unintelligible emails over the years. She’s also published a great many of the more remarkable ones publicly, along with her scathingly hilarious commentary. You don’t want to be one of THOSE people, do you?
September Travel Advisory
** This is a Northeast Travel Advisory **
All resident spankos in these areas should take cover September 2014, because I am blowing through, paddles spinning:
New York City – Sept. 7 & 8
Albany – Sept. 10
Washington D.C. – Sept. 24
Toronto, Ontario – Sept. 26 & 27
Video Q&A : Again
I think our first attempt at VQA did well, don’t you?
It went pretty darn long, as there were dozens of questions, and because I talked a lot (imagine that) – but I figure it’s up to you all to decide whether it’s worth doing again.
If you’ve still questions left over, or have come up with something else, ask your questions via the comment function below (please don’t email individual questions; it’s difficult to run them down in several places). And please remember, this isn’t an AMA – you cannot Ask Me Anything – but you’re welcome to ask questions about spanking, discipline, video, and stuff of general interest.
I’ll do my best to keep this one under half an hour, but no promises.
Veggies, Critters, and Baking Near-Disaster News (TUS : Totally Unrelated to Spanking)
Legalized Catnip Club Opens in Las Vegas
All the coolest, cutest cats were sure to be seen at the opening of Krazy Kat Organic Catnip and Scratching Post Bar last night – sniffing, rolling, and cat-noodling well into the wee hours. Many cat selfies were taken before a fight broke out between two patrons during the house band’s intermission; witnesses report hearing no argument beforehand but say that the two patrons simply began swinging at one another. One witness said that the melee only lasted a few seconds and was quickly broken up by Krazy Kat security; no arrests were made.
A Tomato Grows in Vegas
While I’ve found it impossible to grow much more than houseplants and sweet basil here in the desert, some folks have been doing it – fabulously well – for decades. Gilcrease Orchard is probably the best local example of desert farming and, although the amount of water needed to irrigate these 60 acres must be staggering, I am ever-so-grateful for the ability to eat actual fresh produce again. (Did you know that the average age of any random apple for sale in your supermarket’s produce section is 16 months? Yep, 16 months since that sucker was picked…and it’s still red. Creepy, huh?)
Last week, we picked about a dozen gorgeous, ripe tomatoes (and a few green ones for frying), along with just-pulled onions and garlic, a couple precious Armenian cucumbers (melons), and even peaches. It’s nearly and hour’s drive, on the Super Fun Vegas Freeway, from my place to Gilcrease, so you’ve really gotta want those tomatoes. They’re worth it, let me tell you, to a gal who never ate store-bought produce until she left home, and never saw a white egg ’til then either.
I Do Domestic. Kinda.
This pumpkin bread tastes fantastic. Much better than it looks, to be sure. That’s because I dropped it HARD when pulling the loaf pan out of the oven. After having finally perfected my gluten free pumpkin bread recipe and baking technique, I dropped the damned thing. Sideways. It skidded onto the stovetop at an angle, causing the whole loaf to sort of…compact inside the pan.
So what we have here is really yummy yet somewhat ugly and dense domesticity, cooked up by yours truly. Enjoy!
DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update : 6/15
Bring Me Daddy’s Belt
The preview video:
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DanaKaneSpanks.com Update : 6/8
Live Session Video: Sentenced to Discipline
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Sin City Spanking Story Contest Winner
Readers,
Last month I received several entries for the “Sin City Spanks” story contest, and had a more difficult time than usual making a final decision. Ultimately, I chose “All Bets Are Off”, as I loved the character ‘Ma’s’ line about tickling….you’ll see.
Congratulations to our winning author, and I’m sure that you’ll all enjoy this entry and all the rest.
– Dana
All Bets Are Off
All Bets Are Off
“Wait! I can explain!” Crystal begged as the strong hands gripping her pulled her into a dark room. “It’s not what it looks like! OOOF!” she yelped, the wind leaving her body, as she was unceremoniously dumped onto a hard wooden chair. “That hurt,” she said gasping for breath.
The petite, bottle blonde blinked her eyes trying to breathe normally and get a good look at the person standing over her. It was impossible given that that the large male body was being lit from behind by the bright lights of the casino she had up until recently been happily gambling in. Well, gambling in the sense of winning a ton of the casino’s money by means that were anything but honest.
“Cheating is supposed to hurt,” the man grunted as he closed the door. “Think about that while you wait for Ma.”
Crystal shivered in the dark. She had seen enough of the room she was in to know that it was little larger than a closet. She contemplated banging on the door but who would hear her over the sounds of the slot machines, cheering players at the craps tables, and the music filling the brightly lit gambling floor? Instead she hugged her knees to her chest not caring that her short silver dress was riding up. Who would even notice in the dark?
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened causing the young lady within to blink against the onslaught of light. “Oh, thank God!” Crystal said as she rubbed her eyes back into focus and saw a police officer standing there, “I was being held captive in here!” she said her hands going to her theatrically heaving bosom, which the outfit she was wearing accentuated to a most impressive degree.
“Detained ma’am, not held captive,” the officer said in a polite drawl, “On suspicion of defrauding a gaming establishment. A suspicion which is very much true given the security footage I have reviewed. And, given the amount you took, this constitutes grand larceny – a felony.”
Crystal swallowed hard hearing this but was not ready to give in yet. She sidled up to the officer her gait taking on an intoxicating sashay while her voice dropped into a purr, “I’m sure we can work something out officer,” she said huskily one perfectly manicured finger tracing a heart shape on the police officer’s chest teasingly.
“That would be between you and Ma, uh, the owner of the casino ma’am,” the police officer said stepping back. “Would you like to speak with her or prefer to take this down town?”
“Fine, let me meet the bitch,” Crystal said, with a sigh, her pretty face screwed up petulantly.
Crystal was not sure what to expect as she was led into the owner’s office. She thought it might be a bit more colorful given the garish lights and loud noises of the casino gaming floor and was almost disappointed that the room looked more like a lawyer’s office or something an executive would use – all dark wood, thick carpets, and expensive looking artwork. “You’re the owner?” she blurted seeing a petite red-headed woman about her own age standing beside the desk. “I thought you were the cocktail waitress!” she said sneeringly looking the young woman up and down.
The red-head laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. “I am the cocktail waitress silly, and you’re the ungrateful brat that not only didn’t tip me but also stole from Ma,” she said rolling her eyes. “Wrong move,” she said laughing again as the large leather chair which up until now had been facing the window slowly turned.
“I’m the owner,” the chair’s occupant said coolly in a tone that sent a shiver down Crystal’s spine. “Marjory Phillips-Brightsworth, but most people just call me Ma,” she said. “I hear someone’s been a naughty girl,” she finished raising an eyebrow and giving Crystal a look that turned her knees to jelly.
Crystal licked her lips nervously unsure what to say. Something about this woman made her very nervous. She looked nothing like Crystal’s mother but everything from the way she spoke, the way she held her head, and even the way she steepled her fingers in front of her chin gave Crystal visions of cutting switches, hard oak hairbrushes, and long minutes bawling in the corner – something that had not happened in several years.
“I…no, it’s not like that…I…I didn’t do anything wrong!” she stammered trying to find something to say to get out of this predicament.
“Well, that can always be decided by a court of law,” Ma said turning her attention to the police officer. “John, would you be so kind as to take this young lady to the police station. I will be pressing charges.”
“No! Wait!” Crystal said pulling away from the police officer who was reaching for her arm. “He said we could work something out! Please, let me work something out!”
Ma nodded and looked Crystal over carefully. The girl was trying her best to look elegant but the hem of her sparkly silver dress was frayed slightly speaking of something picked up at a thrift store and her shoes looked cheap and uncomfortable though stylish enough at a cursory glance. Ma guessed without the heels Crystal might make five foot two, but she noticed that Crystal was also doing her best to look not just taller but also older and more worldly that she was – while all the womanly curves were there the young lady in front of her lacked the poise and sophistication of the persona she was trying to emulate. “How old are you little girl?” she asked.
“Little Girl?” Crystal snapped, “I’m 25!”
The casino owner sighed and the cocktail waitress’s sprightly laugh filled the air again. Crystal was beginning to hate that laugh. “That is the last lie you tell me tonight young lady. The next one gets you a trip with the officer here,” Ma said sternly.
“Fine,” Crystal said her bottom lip pulled up into a pout, “I’m 19.”
“It seems we can add underage drinking and underage gambling to your list of charges,” Ma said shaking her head, “And given my casinos strict ID policy, I am betting you have a fake id in that faux Coach purse of yours.”
Crystal pouted again and stomped her foot in frustration, yes, actually stomped like a wilful toddler. “How do you know everything?!” she said her voice taking on a whining tone. It really was like talking to her own, seemingly omnipotent, mother.
The waitress laughed again, “Ma’s had lots of practice with lying little girls,” she said rubbing her bottom with a wink, “Lord knows she never lets me get away with anything,” she said her small hands continuing to rub under her short skirt.
“I let you get away with far too much,” Ma said rolling her eyes, a gesture she somehow made look elegant, “I think you are long due another maintenance spanking.”
“Wait, what? Spankings?” Crystal said laughing despite of, or perhaps because, of her nervousness. “You still get spanked?” she said looking at the waitress.
“Only when I need it,” the young woman said sagely, “though right now it would be my own pretty little tushie I’d worry about little miss thief,” she said glancing very meaningfully at Crystal’s backside.
“Uh, sorry Ma, I just got a call,” the police officer said motioning to the ear piece attached to his radio, “If this one gives you any trouble just call us back. I’m sure the ladies down at Florence would be more than happy to make her acquaintance,” he said before hurrying out of the room to whatever emergency dispatch had called about.
“Florence?” Crystal said unsure what that meant.
“The correctional facility where you are likely to end up if this goes forward officially,” Ma said matter-of-factly. “A pretty little girl like you would be very popular indeed.”
Crystal shivered wondering how all this went so wrong and tried to swallow back her fear. “Um, what about, uh, well, um, unofficially?”
“Unofficially you get your round little fanny whacked until you just think it is on fire!” the waitress said with her damned laugh again.
Ma sighed and pointed to the door. “Go back to work Becca. I think we can handle this without your commentary, though I will see you back here at the end of your shift. Bring your hairbrush,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Yes ma’am,” the young red-head said laughing again and flipping up the back of her short skirt to show her matching red panties below as she sauntered out of the office.
“That girl,” Ma said shaking her head, “she won’t be laughing in a few hours when I am done with her. So which is it to be – official or unofficial?”
Crystal bit her bottom lip her hands playing nervously with the hem of her skirt. “Uh, well, um, if we do the, um, the spanking,” she said her face blushing crimson, “will that be the end of it?”
“It will keep your pretty little backside out of jail if that is what you mean,” Ma said with a nod.
“Okay,” Crystal said in barely a whisper, “I’ll take the spanking.”
The elegant casino owner smiled and stood, smoothing her skirt, before moving to the front of the desk. As Ma approached her, Crystal realized that the large luxurious chair had made the woman appear much smaller than she actually was. Standing and getting closer, Crystal realized that Ma had to be close to six feet tall and had a figure that showed she focused as much on staying in shape as she did on her business. Even in her six inch heels, Crystal was shorter than the stern looking lady who was about to spank her behind red.
“Instead of standing there, your mouth open like a cod fish,” Ma said borrowing a line from Mary Poppins, “how about you pass me over the spanking chair,” she said indicating a simple, sturdy, straight-backed wooden chair that until now Crystal hadn’t noticed. “Yes, I have a chair just for spanking,” Ma said noticing the young woman’s startled look.
“Do you do this kind of thing often?” Crystal asked as she moved the chair into the spot Ma indicated. “I mean, you must if you have a special chair and all.”
Ma nodded and sat on the chair arranging her clothes so as not to wrinkle them. “I’ve always found that people are going to make mistakes; they’re going to mess up. I could fire them. I could have them arrested. I could write those people off as a failure. But in a town like Vegas, even with all its people, I’d soon run out of staff. It’s far better to settle things in a more direct, yet far less drastic manner. Speaking of which, I think you know where you are supposed to be little girl,” she said patting her lap.
Crystal was only too aware of where she was supposed to be and draped herself expertly over the waiting knees.
“I’d say you have done this before young lady,” Ma said as she lifted Crystal’s short skirt and laid it over her lower back. “Did you mother spank you often?” she asked tugging down the tiny thong the teenager had on underneath. “Running around wearing skimpy underwear like this, I’d hope she tanned your hide for you at least once a week.”
Crystal blushed again and nodded her head. “Yes ma’am, she, well, maybe not that often, but yes, she did spank me.”
“Too bad the lesson didn’t take,” Ma said raising her strong right arm high above the now bare bottom presented so vulnerably over her lap. “Let’s hope this one stays with you a little longer.”
Any response Crystal may have made to that comment was cut off by Ma’s sturdy palm landing stingingly on her right bottom cheek. Despite being the veteran of countless over-the-knee spankings, the sheer force of the smack caused her to kick her feet and look back in surprise.
“Yes, a spanking from me hurts,” Ma said reaching up with her non-spanking hand to smooth a strand of hair off of Crystal’s face. “But if a spanking tickled all little girls would want one now wouldn’t they?” she said landing a matching spank to Crystal’s other bare bottom cheek.
Crystal winced and decided that this little girl sure as heck didn’t want one! A sentiment that only grew as her bottom bounced, jiggled, and reddened under Ma’s well practiced spanking hand. Tears soon dripped down Crystal’s cheeks and her yelps turned to cries, which soon turned to begging. “Please! I’ll be good! OW! Pleeease! It hurts!” she sniffled trying to reach back to cover her bottom.
“Yes, I know, but we already talked about how spankings hurt,” Ma said continuing to spank every inch of Crystal’s well-presented backside. Actually, the young woman’s exposed rear-end was blushing a rosy pink from the backs of her knees to the top of her exposed bottom cheeks. Ma was a firm believer that thighs should not be spared even if spanks there would show below the hem of a naughty girl’s short dress or skirt. “How about we talk about how you aren’t going to steal anymore.”
“OW! I won’t! I promise I won’t!” Crystal yelped as she tried to twist and turn to avoid the punishing spankings. “For real!”
Ma sighed, “’I won’t’ could apply to anything young lady. Be specific or how am I supposed to know that we are both on the same page?” she said continuing the pepper Crystal’s bottom with firm spanks.
“I won’t, OW! I won’t steal anymore and I won’t even think about, about stealing and and and OW! I won’t do it again I swear!” Crystal cried tears running down her cheeks.
Ma nodded and rested her hand on Crystal’s now crimson bottom. “Hmm…this is one hot little backside,” she said feeling each cheek in turn. “I’m inclined to believe you, but why on earth did you try to steal from me in the first place?”
Crystal sniffled and tried to get her composure back now that the spanking had stopped. “I don’t have any money, and no one is hiring so I can’t get a job. You know how the economy has been.”
“How about college?” Ma asked rubbing the bare cheeks over her knee gently.
Crystal sighed, “I can barely afford rent, let alone college,” she said wiping her tears with on hand, while leaving the other on the carpet to support herself.
Ma nodded and patted Crystal’s bottom causing the young woman to tense. “Oh, sorry, it helps me think,” she said noticing her distress. “I have a proposition for you – one I made once before and so far have not regretted. How about you come and work here for me?”
“Wait, work here? Uh, really? I just cheated and tried to steal money from you,” Crystal said her tone of voice reflecting the shock her face was showing.
“Well, I’ve found that ‘it takes one to know one’ is certainly true when it comes to cheats and thieves. Becca must have caught two dozen cheats by now. Who do you think tipped security off to your little scheme?” Ma asked.
“Becca? The waitress?” Crystal gasped.
“One and the same,” Ma said with a smile. “So what do you say?”
“Um, what’s the catch?”
“Well, if I ever catch you stealing or cheating again you will be arrested, and if your attitude or work ethic ever slips you will find yourself right back where you are now – over my knee getting your little behind smacked until it steams. Besides that I will pay you a fair wage and pay your tuition. Of course, if your grades ever slip below a B, you won’t sit for a week. It’s the same arrangement I have with Becca.”
“I’ll do it,” Crystal said with a small nod. It was the best offer she’s had in years.
“Great. I’ll draw up the legal documents and get Becca to get you a uniform. You can start tonight. I hope you can serve drinks with a sore bottom,” Ma said giving Crystal’s bottom another smack for good measure. “Welcome to the family.”
Video Q&A #1
Here’s the first part of the Video Q&A; there were a lot of questions, so I thought I’d break the video down into two parts…problem is, I broke at the wrong time, so this part’s ten minutes and the next one’s thirty. Oops..
Enjoy~
– Dana
DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update : 5/25 (I know it’s Monday, dammit..)
Jealousy
Preview Video:
(POV) Barracuda : The Interview
NEW DVDs!
Marital Discipline III
(Eight Canes, Foreplay, Caught Masturbating Again, You Asked for It, Bruised for Brownies, and Water War! Runtime approx. 63 minutes.)
Brand New Ass
(BNA: Red (2 Scenes), BNA: Lacey (2 scenes), BNA: Agatha (2 scenes), 60+ minutes.)
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Individual downloadable spanking video scenes also available on my
Conversations with Spankos : One question. A million answers.
(*Remember, this is only a ‘conversation’ if you comment in the box below, so that other readers can share in the experience. Sending your comment in an email to me sort of defeats the point.)
Readers,
One of the most often discussed topics for new and exploring spankos (and many old hats, too) is, “Where does it come from?”
I don’t know if we ever figure it out completely, and I think that that’s probably a very good thing (as the unknown causes us to explore) but I still want to know what you think about this short, not-so-simple question:
Where does IT come from?
Your spanking fetish. Your need. Your interest. Whatever you want to call it. When and where do you think yours derived, or can you not remember a time when you weren’t ‘already into’ spanking?
(We usually avoid pre-adult spanking conversations here, but I’m going to relax this a bit for obvious reasons – most of us were interested in spanking before we were able to drive so it reasons that we’d need to talk about it in terms of age and experience.)
Maybe we can all figure it out together…
– Dana
Repeated forced viewing of my pets.
Go ahead, pretend you don’t like looking at pictures of cuddly critters.
I’m gonna post these anyway, because I do.
DanaKaneSpanks.com Update : 5/18
Brand New Ass: Agatha’s First Paddling
Preview Video:
Hard Hand Spanking
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Es el paraíso (Unrelated to Spanking but totally related to happiness)
Readers,
I’ve taken a fair few vacations, and they’ve all been nice enough – the Smoky Mountains are gorgeous in the fall when leaves change colors, and there’s a cool/funky nude river-beach just outside Portland where I once spent the day. Sitting on a big deck on the back end of a ship in the middle of big water is pretty damn amazing, too. There has never been a time when I’ve been ‘away’ that I’ve not been happy about that away-ness in some way, and I knew that this vacation would be just the same.
Away-ness makes me breathe more deeply for some reason, and I become adventurous, something which I don’t consider myself to be nearly enough in everyday life (although you may disagree). There’s something about getting out of one’s comfort zone and taking chances – even if, for me, taking chances means swimming underwater and drinking alcoholic beverages at lunch – that makes us feel that much more alive.
This past week I was Super Alive.
A week in small-town-anywhere will likely force a busy person to take things more slowly, but this small town is something special. We spent a week eating, strolling, swimming, and napping, surrounded by the gorgeous Caribbean, lush mangrove jungles, and one of the most spectacular places on the planet – the Great Barrier Reef.
Instead of doing the typical tourist thing, we decided to hop off the beaten path just a bit and ended up having quite possibly the best time of our lives. We rented a private home for the week, and I should say right at the outset that this place was Obnoxiously Fabulous – two full floors of indoor living area topped by a 3rd floor outdoor patio, pool, and party area, with a 4th floor rooftop observation deck. I should also say right at the outset that this was, by far, the least expensive vacation rental I’ve ever taken.
I could type for a very long time about the variety of birds seen and heard from this deck, but you’d have to see it for yourself. Also, the neighbors had chickens, roosters, and at least one turkey, so the usual sound of traffic, ambulances, and other noise pollution were replaced by a definite organic, winged cacophony that didn’t let up even at night.
Nighttime also brought out the geckos, gigantic prisma-color moths, and goodness knows what else scurrying around out in the mangrove directly – and I mean directly as in right up against the home’s perimeter wall – behind us.
Can I tell you how wonderful and wild and perfect this place is? There’s a crazy mix of very old, small, rickety homesteads, built-up homes like the one I rented, and cool little Mexican hotels – no huge resorts in the town proper and no way to insulate oneself from the local culture…exactly what I wanted.
One morning this happened:
And all was right with the world.
And then that evening, this happened:
Feel that?
Now let’s move on to one of the main reasons I almost always choose Mexico: the food. I believe (and I know that Anthony Bourdain would disagree and I vehemently do NOT care) that Latin America turns out the most consistently delicious food on the planet. In my opinion, as many of you already know, there are few foods more perfect than the taco. A simple corn tortilla rolled around nearly anything – how could you possibly go wrong? There is no lime shortage in Mexico, either, and I didn’t see a single bruised, black, shriveled avocado the entire time. Things are Lush and Fat in the Yucatan, and the food reflects the bounty of all that humidity.
I ate the hands-down-best-ever-on-the-planet shrimp cocktail – twice, actually – and likely downed more guacamole than anyone should rightfully admit; there were organic eggs for breakfast and mangoes so ripe and sweet that you could smell ’em right through the skin. And the habañeros? Ohholyhell…
There are no photos of the food. This should give you some indication of just how little time it spent sitting in front of me.
Oh, and cocktails. I should probably mention the cocktails. Since I don’t usually drink at all, any beverage stronger than fresh, sweet iced tea is likely going to make me a little wonky; I was wonky a fair few times last week.
It’s the Mojitos, you see, and the sun, and the sea – they conspire together to make you believe that nothing would taste better at this very moment than some really strong rum, watered down a teeny bit with a few drops of water and a couple bruised mint leaves. Do not be fooled by the steaming coolness rising from that tall glass, my friend. It is a ruse to lure in the unwary drinker and make her need a nap at 2pm. I believe I had a total of about ten alcoholic beverages during the course of the week, which should cover my quota well into 2017.
When you order your Mojito on the beach and drink it while smoking a cigar, the nice man brings you an ashtray that he just carved out of a green coconut:
I loved that man.
Hell, I loved everyone I met. Totally enamored with Latin culture, language, and people, I always feel pretty damn at home here, even though my understanding of the language is woefully inadequate (something which I plan to change immediately). We met several folks who live and work in the fishing village who are what one would call the Salt of the Earth, including one cool cat tour guide who seemed to know everyone and everything going on at any given moment. He even helped me find those cigars.
Speaking of those cigars: One needs certain things no matter where one is, but those essentials change depending on the surroundings. I’ve found it to be true that anytime I’m in the Caribbean, I need Cuban cigars. This is likely a reaction to a decades-long embargo in the U.S. which causes me to have the ‘want what I can’t have’ response, so every time I’m there I buy and smoke with abandon.
Also coffee:
Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Sea..
That’s the reason for every single decision I make in terms of vacation travel – if there’s no beach involved, I’m likely highly uninterested. I know, I know, there are gorgeous places all over the world; ancient civilizations and art and culture and food and terrain that I’ve never experienced which could and likely would surely outdo my beloved Mexican Caribbean in a way or two. Again, I do not care. I am willfully and endlessly small-minded in this area.
Because I spent a large amount of my early life hanging out at the edge of the Gulf of Mexico and various rivers, ponds, sandpits, and the like, I’m obsessively attracted to water. I can sit, clear-headed, for hours, staring at the line where the water meets the sky, not a care in the world. Add in the fact that at NO time during my life did I ever experience water clean enough for one to actually see one’s feet when standing at ankle-depth, and you have a perfect storm of beach-bum-itis. And baby, I got it bad.
This time I did something that I thought I’d never do – I went underwater. Pretty far underwater, too. About 20 feet, which to me seems like a really long way down when there aren’t gills involved.
Also sharks.
But I did it. Snuba. Like a cross between snorkel and scuba, these two nice boys hook you up to a really long air hose that’s attached to your very own floaty thing; they give you some flipper thingies for your feet (try to keep up, I know this is getting technical..) and teach you how to do the air-breathing without drowning, which is vitally important. They also teach you hand signals to be used underwater, since you can’t talk through your air-breathing thingy (although I did yell ‘shit’ when I saw a large barracuda, all that came out was “bubblebubblebubble”). This was a super exciting little excursion and I got to see lots of really beautiful coral, a teeny bright-red ray, lobsters, aforementioned barracuda, and even an undersea cenote (google it). When it was done, however, I immediately remembered that I am 41 and don’t swim in the ocean often (see Las Vegas on the map?) – because my entire body decided to basically shut down on the walk back to the rental house, where I napped the nap of the partially-dead-by-snuba.
That was okay, too, though, because it was the perfect excuse to go back for a second massage..
I’d like to say, here and now, that it’s likely I will live in Latin America sometime during the course of my life.
This is why:
There is absolutely nothing you can say to top that, mi amigo. Don’t even try.
Random post- spanking photos
Here are a few random post- spanking photos from recent playtimes:
Don’t talk to me right now (Unrelated to spanking)
I had oral surgery last week. Endodontics, they call it, and it’s as much fun as it sounds.
Supposedly the endangered tooth had “roots like a hula dancer” (and I’m quoting the regular dentist here). Having never been compared to a hula dancer before, I initially found this somewhat complimentary – until she informed me that, instead of a regular old dental procedure, I’d be receiving a Special One.
Not special like birthday wish special or snow day special, but special like extra needles and several open-mouthed hours spent breathing directly into the faces of masked strangers special. Special in the I-don’t-take-pain-meds-so-this-is-really-gonna-suck special way.
And it does, indeed, suck. But not in the way you think. I feel pretty fine now, all things considered, but the event itself was nothing short of exquisitely awful, as all dental visits are required to be, by law, and I cannot seem to get the picture of it out of my mind.
Okay, not exactly the picture of it, even, but the picture of what I think about every single time I think of going to the dentist.
This:
A Cheekie Update
Readers,
Since posting ‘Cheekie Pays Her Dues’, I’ve received several emails asking about Cheekie and what she’s doing now.
I’m pleased to report that miss Cheekie is hard at work in her new endeavor – blogging! – and you may visit her new place at:
http://cheekiegirl.blogspot.com/
She’ll be reviewing spanking videos (she’s done her OWN first scene, which I just love), writing about her experiences, and posting up some of her very own original spanking stories.
Cheekie’s a really sweet girl who’s determined to make a place for herself in the spanko community, and I think she’s going to fit in quite well.
We’re also hoping to film more scenes with Cheekie later this year, once she’s back in the Southwest again, and give her the chance to up that tolerance a bit.~
Take a peek at her blog – be NICE – and stay tuned!
– Dana
Introducing a new spanking writer
Readers,
Here’s a great little spanking story by a new writer named Amy Phillips. Amy’s quite the spanko by the sound of it, and I’m hoping that she’ll share more of her excellent imagination soon. Enjoy!
– Dana
*****
Introduction
Lena’s senior year wasn’t ending exactly as she had planned. It was the Saturday before graduation and while the majority of her class was off spending time with their families or holding drinking parties in the woods, her and a select few of her senior classmates were spending their last weekend of the school year in detention. At least Lena had her best friend and co-conspirator, Jenny, at her side. The two 18-year-olds had grown up together and Jenny was the yin to Lena’s yang. Lena was athletic, studious, and relatively reserved. She was tall; she stood about 5’9 and she had been blessed with an hour glass figure. She was in a serious relationship with an older girl, Carolyn, who was 20 and studying to be a lawyer.
Jenny, on the other hand, was no jock. She made average grades—mostly due to her own laziness—but she was dangerously witty and charming. Jenny was short and slightly built. At around 5’2, her height made her look as though she was Lena’s sidekick, which was ironic given their dynamic. Jenny had never been in a serious relationship, but the never-ending cycle of boys coming in and out of her bedroom made it clear that this was a matter of choice as opposed to circumstance.
Most teachers at St. Ann’s would call Jenny a “troublemaker.” Lena’s parents would call her “spirited.” Lena, on the other hand called her her platonic soulmate. A platonic soulmate with a knack for getting the two young ladies into horrible situations. When Jenny had initially dreamt up the senior prank that landed them in the last Saturday detention of the year, Lena couldn’t resist participating. Lena’s older girlfriend, Carolyn, had warned her to either stop Jenny or just stay out of it, but what fun was that? It was the last week of school—what was the worst that could happen?
Lena quickly learned what the worst that could happen was.
The Monday preceding Lena and Jenny’s detention started just like any other Monday. However, their Sunday night hadn’t been like any other Sunday night. Jenny had rigged an elaborate lever and pulley system on the school roof capable of pulling up to a couple hundred pounds, which, conveniently was about how much their dean of students, Miss Hafey’s office furniture all weighed. Miss Hafey was a relatively new hire. Jenny, a perennial staple in the dean of students’ office, first met her just a couple months back. Their initial meeting was not under great circumstances. Jenny had celebrated her 18th birthday by skipping out on school to go to a local amusement park with her boy-of-the-week. She had been spotted there by another student’s parents and reported to the school. The next morning, she was called into Miss Hafey’s office for a chat.
Jenny Meets Miss Hafey: A Flashback
Miss Hafey was likely no older than 35, which was a stark contrast from St. Ann’s old Dean of Students and disciplinarian, Old Man Leroy. Nobody called him Old Man Leroy to his face—not that he would hear them if they had—but he earned the nickname for being quite elderly and generally oblivious to the goings-ons of the students. Back in his heyday he had been a formidable dean, but he refused to retire despite his declining ability to do his job and thus became a bit of an inside joke amongst students like Jenny. After school detention was practically an extra-curricular activity for Jenny and she had played a large role in turning Old Man Leroy into a joke by holding a betting pool on the topic of how long it would take before he fell asleep while supervising detention.
Within moments of meeting Miss Hafey, she became quickly aware that this woman was no joke. Despite her “not-f*cking-around” aura—for lack of a better description, Miss Hafey was friendly. She smiled when she introduced herself to Jenny, which played oddly in juxtaposition to the circumstances under which they were meeting.
“Hello, you must be Jenny.” said the long-haired, brunette woman to the girl in front of her. “I’m Miss Hafey, but you may prefer to think of me as new Old Man Leroy.” she announced with a wry grin.
“How did she know I called him that?” Jenny thought to herself, but then quickly brushed it off. She refused to allow the new dean’s confidence and general soundness of mind rattle her. She was the one who was really in charge after all, just like she had been with Old Man Leroy; if she didn’t assert her dominance now, this woman could make the rest of her senior year hell. She sat down while forcing herself to yawn and look bored.
“Hello, Mrs. Hapey, what can I do for you?” Jenny said, putting her feet up on Miss Hafey’s desk, and mentally high-fiving herself for her purposeful butchering of the new dean’s name.
“You can call me by my actual name, for one.” Miss Hafey said, in a serious tone of voice. “I can see that you’re not one for pleasantries, so I’m going to cut to the chase here, Jenny. I know you. I dealt with students like you every day at my previous job. When I was your age, I was you. You’re not in charge here; I am. If I feel like you’ve forgotten that for even a second, I won’t hesitate to turn you over my knee.”
Jenny was frozen. Although Pennsylvania allowed corporal punishment, the school hadn’t used it since the 1980s.
“W-Wait, what?” Jenny stammered. She had a stutter as a child that she thought she had completely eradicated. She was wrong.
“You heard me, Jennifer. Things are changing around here. You may still be in school, but you’re a grown woman now. If you choose to act with the maturity of a child, I will make you feel like one. I’m not here to make friends and I’m not here to be a joke. I’m here to keep order, enforce the rules, and make sure you graduate with grades better than the Cs you’ve been pulling. If you’re disrespectful, I will spank you over my knee. If you break school rules, I will paddle you. And if you really step out of line, I won’t hesitate to add lines to your backside.” Miss Hafey informed Jenny, without once breaking eye contact.
“Alrighty, then.” Jenny said in a humorous tone, half out of nervousness and half out of determined defiance. “If that’s all you wanted to say, I guess I’ll be on my way. Good to meet you. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe over tea and crumpets.” Jenny snarked as she got up to leave Miss Hafey’s office.
“Not so fast.” Miss Hafey said as she used Jenny’s shoulder to guide her back into her seat. “I received an anonymous tip that you spent yesterday at an amusement park, which is odd because your mother—who sounds a lot like you now that I think about it—called the school yesterday saying you wouldn’t be able to make it because you were on your deathbed with strep-tibia which, funny enough, isn’t a real illness.”
“It is, too. My knees would not stop coughing all day.” Jenny barked back, rubbing her left knee. “The doctors say it’s a miracle I’m up and walking.”
“You know what, Jenny? When you leave my office it’s going to be a miracle if you’re down and sitting.” Miss Hafey threatened. She pulled a hairbrush out of her desk drawer, pulled a straight-back chair out of her office’s storage closet, and beckoned Jenny over to her.
Jenny froze. She had never been spanked before and quite frankly didn’t believe Miss Hafey’s threats until this very moment.
Miss Hafey felt that Jenny could use a sound paddling, but she sensed this was the first time Jenny was being exposed to corporal punishment and wanted to be relatively gentle. Relatively. Besides, the most serious issue at hand here wasn’t Jenny’s skipping school, but her blatant lack of respect. Going over the older woman’s knee for a spanking would be significantly more humbling than a paddling.
“I’m waiting.” Miss Hafey said, almost teasingly, as she took a seat in her straight-back chair.
Jenny felt her legs betray her and she began moving toward her new dean. When she was close enough, Miss Hafey pulled her over her lap and lifted her skirt. She started Jenny’s spanking very mildly. Jenny tried her best to remain stoic, but despite the spanking’s lack of intensity, she began wiggling and begging for the spanking to end not even two minutes in.
“Are you going to respect me?” Miss Hafey asked inbetween spanks.
“Yes!” cried Jenny.
“Are you going to purposefully mispronounce my name?” Miss Hafey continued.
“No!” cried Jenny, her face reddening with embarrassment.
“Are we going to have anymore meetings like this in the future?”
“Probably!..Wait, I mean no! I mean no!” Jenny panicked.
Miss Hafey stopped spanking just long enough to have a silent chuckle, grateful that her new charge couldn’t see her amusement and then started spanking Jenny’s pink backside harder.
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Miss Hafey said, rolling her eyes and picking up the pace of the spanking even more.
Jenny was regretting that honesty. She started wiggling harder and pleading more. When Miss Hafey felt that Jenny had been sufficiently humbled, she dropped the hairbrush and pulled Jenny’s skirt down. When Jenny stood up to face her, her cheeks were much redder than her backside was.
“I don’t want to see you in here again unless it’s strictly for tea and crumpets.” Miss Hafey informed Jenny.
Jenny blushed harder and choked out a “Yes, Miss Hafey.” while staring at the floor. She didn’t cry, but her eyes did tear up slightly.
Miss Hafey noticed, but felt little sympathy. “Good.” she commented. “Go to class.” she commanded while propelling her out of her office with a parting swat.
Jenny sped out of the room as fast as she could and went to her AP Physics class she had with Lena. Lena saw that she looked disheveled when she entered the classroom.
“Did you get in a lot of trouble for skipping yesterday?” Lena inquired.
“Nope. The new dean seems like a real pushover.” Jenny lied.
The next few months were a game of cat and mouse for Jenny and Miss Hafey. Infractions that Jenny wouldn’t have thought twice about committing under Old Man Leroy’s watch were punished swiftly under Miss Hafey’s reign as dean. Not unfairly, but swiftly. In fact, Miss Hafey had grown quite fond of Jenny in a maternal way. She spent a lot of time with Jenny—not that she had much of a choice since she supervised detention and Jenny managed to spend almost every afternoon there.
If any of her friends had asked her, including Lena, Jenny would declare that she hated Miss Hafey in a way that was not unlike a knee-jerk reaction. But over the course of their frequent interactions, she developed a fondness for her as well. Aside from her regular trips to Miss Hafey’s office for discipline, she would occasionally stop in for help with homework or just general life advice. Sometimes, in a way she couldn’t explain, she even enjoyed her disciplinary trips to Miss Hafey’s office. Not the spanking itself, but the one-on-one attention she received. Jenny had always craved attention—regardless of whether it was negative.
As the year wound down, Jenny began to feel anxious about graduating. Lena was planning on attending an ivy league school out of state and although her test scores were high, Jenny’s grades weren’t good enough to merit an acceptance anywhere but the local community college. Pretty soon her best friend would be hundreds of miles away and her weekly routines with Miss Hafey would be coming to an end. Despite tricking others into believing she was a free-spirit, Jenny thrived on routine. The impending elimination of her current one made her panic. This panic was the catalyst that made her launch a plan to ensure that Miss Hafey did not forget her and that Lena and her would have a memory to reminisce about over breaks from college.
The Prank: Present Day
Jenny was the kind of kid who planned for her senior prank the way that some girls plan for their weddings. In place of planning for bridesmaids and a guest list, she had planned her co-conspirators and victims. Miss Hafey’s arrival at St. Ann’s School quickly shook up her prank plans. Originally, she had wanted to do something that would affect all members of the school. Filling the pool with jello, farm animals in the cafeteria, locking herself in a closet with the school’s PA system and playing “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley on repeat. These plans were dead and buried. She had a very specific victim in mind for her senior prank now: Miss Hafey.
Her idea to put all of Miss Hafey’s office furniture on the roof wasn’t necessarily an original idea, but it was a classic. Jenny was able to get the keys off of one of the night-time janitors she smoked weed with occasionally. Convincing Lena to participate wasn’t difficult. Lena was concerned that her girlfriend, Carolyn, would be upset when she found out that she had indulged Jenny in her fantasy, but she couldn’t say no to her friend. Her enthusiasm was contagious and somewhat intoxicating. That Sunday evening, they used the night-time janitor’s keys to get into the school, a longboard to roll Miss Hafey’s office furniture outside, and the lever and pulley system that Jenny had built days before to place the furniture on the roof.
“You have a C- in Physics, but you figured out how to get 200 lbs worth of office furniture on a roof in a matter of minutes.” Lena laughed while pulling the final piece of furniture up onto the roof.
“What can I say? I’m the queen.” declared Jenny while lighting up a cigarette and enjoying their handiwork.
“Carolyn is going to murder me if she ever finds out I helped you do this.” Lena worried out loud; her face sobering.
“Carolyn will never find out, dude. Relax. Hey, let’s go through her desk!” Jenny suggested.
“No! That’s so wrong.” Lena said, shooting her down.
“No more or less wrong than putting the entire contents of her office on the school roof.” Jenny said, flicking her cigarette butt off the roof and into the school parking lot. Jenny began going through the drawers, finding an array of items ranging from benign office supplies to the paddle that Miss Hafey had used to punish her just a few days prior for trying to eat a sandwich during the school’s end of the year mass.
“You know, what? I kind of want a cigarette. I’ve never had one.” stated Lena, staring enviously at Jenny’s pack. She had always refrained from smoking because of athletics, but she wouldn’t be playing in college and all of her seasons were finished, so why not at least see what she had been missing out on?
Jenny handed her one and Lena lit it, quickly inhaled too much smoke, then entered a coughing fit.
“Yeah I wasn’t missing much. That was pretty terrible.” Lena coughed and threw her still-lit cigarette off the school’s roof into the parking lot.
At that exact moment, Miss Hafey had just exited her car in the parking lot and was approaching the school. She had forgotten an important form in her filing cabinet that she needed to fill out before tomorrow. Reluctantly, she returned to the school to retrieve it and as she was walking toward the school, a lit cigarette fell from the sky and nearly hit her.
“What on earth…?” Miss Hafey wondered, looking around for signs of life. Examining the area, she noticed a longboard not dissimilar to the one she had confiscated from Jenny months ago for riding through the halls and something dangling from the school roof.
“This is not how I want to spend my Sunday night.” she thought, sighing and entering the school enroute to the roof.
When she reached the roof, she saw Jenny and Lena packing their bags to leave, along with an exact replica of her office’s setup.
“Seriously?” Miss Hafey asked, fuming.
“Shit.” said Lena. For a brief moment she considered jumping, but the school was too high up. She was not nearly as acquainted with Miss Hafey as Jenny was, but she had been on the receiving end of her paddle a couple of times. Each time, she had gotten it even worse from her girlfriend, Carolyn, when she found out.
“Go home. Go to bed. Be at the school tomorrow morning at 6 to help me reassemble my office.” Miss Hafey commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” Lena said obediently, practically running toward the stairs.
Jenny took her time, walking past Miss Hafey with a barely concealed grin. This was what she wanted, after all. She didn’t necessarily want to get caught so soon and she hadn’t wanted Lena to go down with her, but more or less this was all part of the plan.
Jenny’s demeanor wasn’t unnoticed by Miss Hafey. As Jenny walked past her, she grabbed her upper arm and twisted the girl to face her.
“Do you think this is funny?” she demanded.
“I don’t not think this is funny.” Jenny quipped back.
Miss Hafey dragged Jenny over to her desk, bent her over it, and pulled out the paddle Jenny had found just minutes earlier. She lit into Jenny quickly and determinedly. She administered five of the hardest swats she had ever meted out at lightning speed, causing Jenny to burst into tears.
“Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Miss Hafey said, trying to suffocate any rising sympathy she had for the crying girl.
“Yes ma’am.” Jenny cried, feeling an overwhelming sense of regret.
Very little sleep was had by any parties involved that night. Both Jenny and Lena arrived at the school the next day at 5:55, not wanting to anger Miss Hafey more. They quietly transported Miss Hafey’s furniture from the roof back to the floor and reassembled her office. Although it took little time to get the furniture onto the roof, it took the girls significantly more time to get it back down. So long, in fact, that by the time they were finished school had already began and word of their prank had spread throughout the senior class. Jenny’s goal had been achieved. Her prank was legendary, however, she could care less. She spent any and all time she normally would have spent basking in glory worrying about her impending punishment.
When Jenny and Lena were finally finished rearranging Miss Hafey’s office, the senior class was called to assembly. Relieved that their punishment was postponed at least until after the assembly, the girls gratefully walked to the auditorium.
Jenny and Lena were the last ones to arrive at the assembly so when they reached the auditorium, it was already filled with their 18-year-old peers. They couldn’t get seats together, so they settled for sitting across the aisle from one another.
Miss Hafey walked onto the auditorium stage and the student body silenced. Normally Principal Riley was the one who led assemblies so this was unconventional for the students.
“Last night, two of our students broke into our school, stole my belongings, and placed them on the roof.” Miss Hafey began.
Jenny’s stomach dropped. She realized what was about to happen before Lena did.
“Since these two students chose to disrespect me in such a public manner, I think it’s only fitting that their punishment be carried out in a public manner.” Miss Hafey continued.
Lena’s stomach dropped, too, and she made nervous eye contact with Jenny.
“Will Lena Cruz and Jennifer Goldman please join me on the stage?” Miss Hafey asked.
Lena and Jenny began to slowly approach the stage. As they got closer, they noticed the paddle on the floor and Miss Hafey turned over the podium so that it acted as a makeshift low-lying desk. When they reached the stage, Miss Hafey said “Will you two please bend over and place your hands on the podium?”
Lena thought she would die of embarrassment. The way Miss Hafey was asking them to bend over would entail displaying their backsides to the entire student body. Jenny blushed when she realized that hers was still red from the brief, but powerful paddling she had received last night. The girls did as they were told and Miss Hafey picked up her paddle.
“This is what happens when you behave atrociously in a very public manner.” Miss Hafey warned the student body, insinuating that these girls’ fates were cautionary tales for the rest of them. She then lifted the girls’ skirts, pulled their panties down to just below their backsides, and turned to face Jenny and Lena.
“I want you to count these. I want you to refer to me as ma’am. I want you to stay still. I don’t care if you cry and I don’t care if you yell out, but you will not move.” she commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” the young women responded in unison.
The first crack of the paddle hit Lena and she couldn’t control her urge to yell out.
“ONE MA’AM!” she cried. She had never been paddled like this by Miss Hafey. Her previous spankings in her office had been more gentle, very private, and typically followed by a hug. Jenny, on the other hand, had received a number of wicked paddlings—just none that were quite this public.
Jenny remained silent during her first swat, aside from her required response. As the number of swats rose, so did the volume of Jenny’s voice in response to the swats. Halfway through the spanking, she was kicking and pleading for Miss Hafey to have mercy.
“Please no more. I’m so sorry.” Jenny begged Miss Hafey, quietly, so that only the three women on the stage could hear.
Miss Hafey guided Jenny’s chin up so that their eyes met and responded “I know you’re sorry. You’re not sorry enough, though.”
Miss Hafey continued paddling the young ladies until she hit twenty swats and both Jenny and Lena were sobbing. The senior class watched—half horrified and half entranced. Miss Hafey told both girls to go wait for her in her office and informed them as well as the rest of the senior class that the young ladies would be participants in the last Saturday detention of the school year. On their way out of the auditorium, Lena shot Jenny an “I can’t believe you got me into this” look.
Saturday morning, Lena shot Jenny the same exact look as they filed into detention along with a handful of other wayward seniors. Miss Hafey announced she had brought both her hairbrush and paddle and would be using them without hesitation should anyone break the rules.
To be continued and what not.
DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update : 5/4
Brand New Ass : Agatha Delicious
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The Very Bad Boy’s Very Bad Dog
Readers,
I had to share something hilarious with you – an email I received recently from our Very Bad Boy. The title of the email was something like “RIP our favorite spanking implement”, and inside was this photo, of their beloved antique store find brush:
The VBB and his Wonderful Wife have kids, but none of them is teething – so I knew this had to be the work of one of the family pooches. By process of elimination, it’s obvious that their handsome boy Maxwell is responsible, since one of the other two is tiny and old, and the other is a trained service dog.
This is Maxwell:
Maxwell is one of the handsomest boys you’ll see all week – but he’s also a service dog training flunkie. He loves his dad endlessly but couldn’t get the hang of the whole training thing, so now it’s his job to be Maxwell – the dog who eats spanking brushes.
He will be the new hero of spanking bottoms everywhere! Folks will want to borrow Maxwell, just so he can chew up their most-loved/hated paddles, brushes, canes, and straps. I think that this could be a great career for Maxwell, as I’m VERY certain that there are a few things My Bottom’s Bottom would love to have ‘disappear’.
Below, a photo re-enactment of the crime:
Way to go, Maxwell! Now your mom gets to buy MORE!
New Story Contest : Sin City Spanks
That’s right, folks! It’s a Sin City Spanking Story Contest Extravaganza!!
This month’s story entries should be set in my new home city of Las Vegas and contain some element of the city’s so-called mystique: gambling, gangsters, nightlife, showgirls, celebrities, etc. And spanking – don’t forget about the spanking..
As always, the contest will run through the month, and I’ll announce the winner beginning of June. The winner will receive a spanking ‘prize’ from me, in any of the cities which I regularly visit, or here in Sin City.
The Rules:
*Your story must be an original, unpublished story, written by YOU, specifically for this contest.
*Don’t write about characters (or situations containing characters) under the age of 18.
*Don’t write about sex. There are lots of places to write/read about sex…this isn’t one of them.
*Don’t be a jerk. Just in general.
*All entries must be received by May 31, 2014. By sharing your entry you agree to let me publish/share/excerpt it, here and elsewhere.
Email your original Sin City spanking story to me at : danakanespanks@gmail.com
Assume the Position Studios, feat. Christy Cutie, now has a Member site.
Readers,
Just a quick note to let you know that Assume the Position Studios, formerly available only for individual scenes, now has it’s member’s site open. With around 200 scenes already available, as well as 100 photosets and LOTS more to come, ATP features most of the videos you’ll find featuring Christy Cutie, one of the more well-known and spankable female performers. Christy is joined by friends like Sarah Gregory, Casey Calvert, and more, so you’ll have the chance to see all the M/f AND F/f action you like.
I think you’re gonna like this one…
– Dana
Click the banner below to redirect to ATP Studios:
Noodle and the Cheese Ball Jug
My cat is a genius. And a clown.
Just watch the video.
Spanking PSA : Occupational Hazards
Readers,
We talk a lot about all the ways in which a bottom may be hurt or harmed during spanking play, and we’re all very conscious of those things – rightfully so – but we rarely talk about all the nasty crap that can happen to the spankER during the very same scene.
Let’s look at a few ways in which my playmates have endangered my life and limbs over the years, likely in retribution for many, many sit spot whacks. Please feel free to empathize with me and other tops, for all the pain and woe we slog through, just to spank your misbehaving behinds.
1. Sticks and Stones, and Feet: I have a particularly kick-y playmate who, while doing his very best impression of an alligator death roll off my lap, managed to twist himself into such a position – AS I WAS SWINGING – that my hairbrush landed squarely on…
wait for it…
my right thumb knuckle. Hard. Now hitting the backside, all squishy and full of fat and muscles and stuff, is one thing, but hitting a bony appendage is a Whole Other Thing Entirely. Agony and swelling were immediate, but, not to be outdone by short-term issues, the knuckle now sits entirely crooked, probably forever.
*Feet also make great Face Connectors. Unless you’re on the shorter side, there’s a very high likelihood that, if you swing your feet up high enough, they’ll come into intimate contact with some part of my face. This is not a Good Thing for anyone, as I will seriously beat you to death if you kick me in the face.
2. Hippy-Hippy-Bruise: Those of you who work hard to maintain a certain physique are, rightfully, proud of yourselves and the effort you’ve made toward general healthfulness. What you’re NOT aware of is this: Your hipbones are sharp, protruding, little cheeseburger-craving knives which stab into your spankers upper thigh in such a manner that one almost has to wonder whether you’re skinny on purpose, just so you can use those things as weapons. The most common injury that I sustain is a nasty purple bruise slashing across my left thigh, in the exact spot you’ve been torturing me with your fitness.
*Conversely, it’s always the not-so-skinny who are concerned about ‘hurting me’ when going OTK. Trust me when I tell you that you are NOT going to hurt me, regardless of the size of your underpants.
3. Back-i-otomy : This is, I believe, the generally accepted medical term for the procedure to remove one’s back altogether – because it’s both painful and useless. From what I’ve read on the AMA website, professional spankers are the largest demographic of Back-i-otomy surgery, and the success rate is pretty high, as long as they avoid spanking altogether in the future. (Seriously, the crummy back’s not your fault – you just exacerbate it.)
*If you’ve opened another tab to search ‘back-i-otomy’, I cannot help you.
4. Biting the Hand that Spanks You : Okay, so you’re not the ones who actually do the biting; it’s the implements that bite. Hard. Leather belts, straps, tawses, and anything else long and slinky is, I PROMISE you, going to snap back and bite the living hell out of the back of the wielder’s hand at least once. You just looove the belt, huh? Well, us, not so much. There’s a reason for that, and it’s called It Hurts…of course, we do it anyway, because the trade off is that, hopefully, it hurts you more.
There’s more. So much more. But I don’t want to give you all the impression that I’d have it any other way.
Bring it on.
– Dana
Video Q&A: Let’s give this a try
Readers,
I thought it might be fun to do a Q&A on the blog, giving readers the opportunity to ask questions, to which I’d then reply. Then I thought it may be interesting to video the thing instead. I’d read and reply to questions asked and post up the video here, maybe monthly or every couple months or whatever.
This will be an experimental Video Q&A. Anyone who wants can ask a PERTINENT question in the comments box below (please don’t email me questions…be nice and put ’em all in the same place, below) and I’ll answer as many as possible in a video.
I’ll leave the questions open for a few weeks then post up the answer video.
Please keep in mind that this is not an AMA. You cannot ask me anything. Be polite, behave, and be on topic (spanking. duh).
Okay, get to the questions….or not. We’ll see what happens.
– Dana
Give to your favorite charity every time you shop at Amazon Smile (Unrelated to Spanking. Duh.)
Admit it, you shop at Amazon.com. The sooner we get real with one another the better. Yes, we all do it – convenience shopping; they bring it right to the door, for goodnesssakes!
Since you’re going to do it anyway, and since the experience is EXACTLY the same, try doing your Amazon shopping from the Amazon Smile landing page. All you have to do is choose the charity that you’d like to receive a percentage of your purchase total and, every time you check out after that, Amazon will donate to your chosen charity. I’ve designated Community Cat Coalition of Clark County (C5-tnr.org), the local feral cat program.
There’s absolutely no reason to not do this, and you just have to remember to bookmark your Smile landing page, so that all your purchases are eligible.
Happy shopping (and giving),
– Dana
Spanking Survivor Island
Okay, I have this great idea. It’s been bouncing around in my head for the last couple years, as ideas tend to do, and I’ve finally come to the decision-making process…and I need your opinions.
Take a look at this:
This is Eagle Island, off the coast of Georgia. It’s a beautiful, secluded, wooded island surrounded by water, with access to kayaks, a pontoon boat, and lots of outdoor activities – in addition to the lodge, which sleeps up to 14.
So here’s the deal : Spanking Survivor Island
A small, intimate F/M spanking party – Thursday through Sunday or something – consisting of three or four female tops and around eight to ten naughty boys. We’d have different ‘challenges’ over the course of the weekend, each boy accruing points (and whacks!) as well as demerits, to the eventual crowning of the first Spanko Island Survivor. Whaddaya think?
The boys would also have a strict set of rules for the weekend, including doing all the cooking and chores (for points!) for the ladies, as well as having the opportunity for one-on-one spanking time with one of the tops, also based on behavior.
Ladies will inhabit the bedrooms, while the boys will bunk dorm-style.
This several-acre island is large and secluded enough for outdoor spanking games, on-the-boat spankings, and….ah, the possibilities are endless!…even hide-and-go-spank!
We’d all pitch in on expenses to cover the cost of the island rental (only 2grand for three nights – for the whole damn island!), airport to island transport and back, food, etc. I’m not setting this up as a for-profit thing, so everyone’s out-of-pocket would be the same as mine…plus or minus airfare, of course.
I want to hear from you on this – sound like fun? I’m really thinking of giving this a go, and any ideas, input, or constructive criticism is welcome.
– Dana
Gal Pals
I spank a lotta gals.
A lot, a lot.
I don’t know why this still surprises me, but it does. Why would I, of all people, have different expectations of female spankos than males? This just goes to show that the gender mores to which we’re accustomed are hard to shrug off, even when we’re vigilant. But I’m digressing already..
Most of the women with whom I play don’t even let men spank them; it’s a line drawn for them, that even the man in their romantic life not be given dominion over their bodies. It’s a you’re-not-the-boss-of-me thing..I get it. If they’re single, they’re just not willing to compromise that kind of intimacy with a man to whom they’re not emotionally attached. It’s easier for them to relate intimately (not sexually) with another woman…I get that, too.
There’s something intensely personal about a woman giving the gift of physical submission to another person that’s quite different than men – we’ve been known throughout history as ‘the weaker sex’, and it wasn’t a woman who coined that phrase, I guarantee. So for some gals, it’s just much simpler to get what they need in that respect from another female – someone who poses no threat of romantic or sexual energy. It’s one less thing to try and figure out, and Today’s Woman leads a pretty damned complicated life as it is.
Many times, there’s a maternal quality to the interaction between me and my female playmates. This has nothing to do with age, or ageplay necessarily, but everything to do with creating and experiencing a loving, nurturing, yet structured environment, where they can let down their guard, release anxiety and guilt, and get in touch with the parts of themselves that they shelter from most of the world – the soft parts. (Get your minds out of the gutter – I’m talking about emotional soft parts…sheesh.)
The truth is, I deal much more gently in many ways with women than men, in respect to disciplinary authority. For all our toughness, we’re still built mostly of large parts of estrogen and ever-changing serotonin levels. We’re like emotional gremlins – benign until activated – and should be handled with care.
The point of it all? I used to be one of those ‘I don’t like other women’ women. That’s different now, and it’s because of all the real, genuine connections I’ve made amongst my spanko girlfriends.
I love you all, you buncha weirdos!
– Dana
So Kate Upton spanked this guy too hard…
What?
Kate Upton?
Gave some guy a spanking? And left THIS on his backside?
That’s right, friends. Reportedly, Miss Upton got a bit ‘carried away’ while filming a scene for an upcoming movie – a scene in which she spanks her male counterpart. This guy (otherwise known as the Luckiest Boy in the Wide World):
He even says that, when he requested that she take it easy on him, the director laughed and encouraged her to continue..which she gleefully did.
I knew I liked that girl…
– Dana
The whole article is HERE.
When all else fails, do a question thingy. (Unrelated to Spanking)
Readers,
There are times when it’s just nearly impossible for a blogger to be original, funny, campy, and/or creative. For those times, the internet gods created these question thingys.
This is one of those times, and those of you who are old enough to remember Myspace may find yourselves waxing sentimental about the Old Days when all 6600 people in your friend list did the same damn thingy on the same damn day.
– Dana
Question Thingy (massively edited down from 100 questions, most of them even more inane than the ones I’ve chosen to include below):
Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Closed. If they’re not closed, the cats will turn it into a party room.
Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
Yep. I put them in a box and when the box is full, I take them to the Las Vegas Rescue Mission.
Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
I hate that I have to answer ‘yes’ to such a random and bizarre question. Yes. Yes, I have.
What is your biggest pet peeve?
Just one? Jeez..umm..I guess it’d have to be emoticons/webspeak.
Do you ever count your steps when you walk?
Yep.
Do you still watch cartoons?
I still try to catch episodes of South Park now and then, but I’m less impressed with it than I was a decade ago
.
What do you drink with dinner?
I’m from the South. We’re supposed to drink sweet iced tea with everything; it’s in the Book of Redneck Etiquette.
What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
If you try to feed me any kind of nugget I will slap you hard.
What is your favorite food?
This one’s easy. My honey makes this stuff called Huli Huli Chicken, which is quite possibly the tastiest thing I’ve ever eaten, ever. This may have something to do with the fact that I don’t have to prepare it, but still. It rocks.
What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
The Birdcage. Hank Azaria’s character is one of the most hilarious performances ever.
50 First Dates. I love Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore together; it’s impossible not to smile.
Chocolat. This may be the only movie in which I can honestly say that I understand the world’s women’s fascination with Johnny Depp (And Juliette Binoche? Ohmy.)
Can you change the oil on a car?
I could change the oil on my ’01 Saturn. There’s no WAY I could do it on my current car. I don’t even know where the battery is..someplace in the trunk, I think.
Are you lazy?
Who has time to be lazy?
When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
My grandmother said it was tacky to go door to door, begging for candy.
Which are better legos or lincoln logs?
I cannot tell you how much I love Lincoln Logs.
Afraid of heights?
Yep.
Sing in the car?
Loudly.
Ever used a gun?
Lots.
Do you believe in ghosts?
Nope.
First concert?
I went to a George Strait concert with a boy from my high school. His mom dropped us off. It was the first time I was allowed to go to a Whole Other City without a legal guardian, I think.
Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
No, no, and no.
Who would you like to see in concert?
I am fascinated by Journey’s current lead singer, Arnel Pineda.
Can you knit or crochet?
I can crochet like a skein-wielding demon.
Spanko Distractions #5 : Reasons for a Spanking Wordsearch
Readers,
Here’s the fifth installment of wasting your time, spanko style…enjoy!
– Dana
Word Search #2 : Reasons for a Spanking
accountability
punishment
bratting
reinforcement
discipline
ritual
foreplay
roleplay
fun
rule breaking
impromptu
Spencer Plan
maintenance
therapeutic
misbehavior
Bloggers who actually write about spanking!
Readers,
While the Great and Dreaded Blogger Hatchet seems to have been a boogeyman, I’m still very pleased to have made the move to this new host. It’s not perfect, but appears to be more viewer-friendly than the old platform, at the least.
One thing I do NOT love about the move is that my old blogroll from blogger isn’t importable (is that even a real word?), so I don’t get to see updates for my favorite spanking bloggers unless I go over to the old blogger admin page.
This sucks.
I do it, though, because there’s some really good writing going on out there, on a number of broad, spanking-related subjects, and I like few things better than a good read. Since I haven’t done this in a while, and newer readers may not be aware of all that’s ‘out there’ in terms of spankos, I’m going to link to a few of my regular stops.
(If you’re an old pro at this online spanko stuff, you’ve probably heard of all these folks before, but they’re worth another look nonetheless.)
First, and most obviously, Erica Scott Life, Love, and Spanking.
Erica is not only a great gal and exceptional writer, she’s a real-live, dyed-in-the-wool, no-excuses spanko. She’s what you’d call an ‘alpha bottom’ and is famous (infamous?) for being the queen of bottom snark done right.
Erica writes on a number of topics, and her hilarious CHoS, or Comment Hall of Shame, column has recently been published both in paperback and ebook. If you don’t find something worth reading there you’re obviously doing something wrong.
Next, the lovely Alex Reynolds (aka Alex in Spankingland).
Alex is a professional spanking model, producer, and top-notch blogger, among many talents. She regularly updates her blog with stories from her life and work, as well as some very thought-provoking posts on DS, feminism, and other subjects.
You also can’t help but LOVE the numerous photos Alex posts, many of which feature her terribly cute face – and just as many showcasing that fabulous derriere.
This inevitably leads us to Pandora Blake: Spanked Not Silenced.
Pandora keeps quite likely the best written, most well-thought blog I’ve seen on the subject of spanking. She writes about her personal experiences, opinions, and her fair trade approach to video production, and does so absolutely eloquently.
With the added benefit of regular photo updates and video previews from her member site, Pandora’s blog is an excellent way to spend a few hours…or days.
When you want to know about just about ALL the other spanking-related blogs out there, the only place to go is My Bottom Smarts. Bonnie has what must be the most comprehensive listing of spanko links on the web, and there’s always a very lively discussion on her Spanko Brunch posts. It’s a great place to start for newbies.
For an interesting perspective on one spanko lifestyle, visit Mr. Marks at Secret Spanko. He writes about all the ways in which the spanking fetish may or may not clash with one’s vanilla lifestyle, as well as his own personal process of living a ‘secret spanko’ life.
This is just a good place to start, as there are quite literally thousands of blogs, sites, photoblogs, journals, discussion boards, chatrooms, etc etc etc to be found nowadays. Happy spanko reading!
– Dana