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

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.
Posted on

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..

*****
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Posted on

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…
*****
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Posted on

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:

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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.       
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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

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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.”)
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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

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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






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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

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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.  

*****



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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.

*****

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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
*****
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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.
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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.
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Travel for August, September 2011



August 2011: 


 6-10   New York City (confirmed)


19-21  Tampa   (confirmed- fully booked)




September 2011:


(September 1 – move to Las Vegas)

9-10     Detroit   (confirmed)


12-13    Chicago   (confirmed)


27-28    Seattle   (dates tentative)


29-30    San Francisco   (dates tentative)


More upcoming travel HERE


Email for details and scheduling:
DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com

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


I love Los Angeles, and it has been good to me, but…

I will be relocating to Las Vegas in early September, 2011.


This is going to be a big move, as it will afford me the ability to develop a fully-domestic playspace and filming location for future projects. 


Appointments in Las Vegas will be available beginning around September 14th. Email me directly for more information:
DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com


Los Angeles won’t be far away, and I’ll be back often.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Dana Kane Video: After the Party

You didn’t really believe that he’d behave at the dinner party, did you? Me either, but I prefer always giving the benefit of the doubt. 


This episode was beyond simple misbehavior, and needed dealing with swiftly and harshly…it would take the cane to redeem him.


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Winner of the ‘Story of US’ Writing Contest

For the contest entrants,


This month’s writing contest was less about challenging your writing skills and ability to research, and more about encouraging you to use your imaginations. I am pleased to say that I received several very imaginative entries and that you have exceeded my expectations once more. Some funny, some saucy, and some serious…I’ve enjoyed all your stories greatly and am pleased to share them with other readers here.  
As always, if I could choose every story, every month, I would. 
Keep writing and sharing…there will be more contests and many more chances to receive your Dana Kane spanking.


With gratitude,
Dana

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The Winner of the ‘Story of US’ Contest for July 2011 is:

 – My Kind of Strange –

The writer of this story has played a lovely game of cat-and-mouse with content to which I fondly refer as ‘saucy’. You all know that I like to keep it relatively clean here on my blog, so many stories are edited, excerpted, or sadly not published at all – usually due to naughty language or sexual content. In this case, the story dips back and forth repeatedly…I began reading thinking “Uh-oh, he’s not read the rules”, then realized that our author has deftly avoided any actual saucy content whatsoever, all the while delivering quite a steamy spanking story. I do hope that you enjoy it as much as I have.    

Please congratulate the author, who will receive a free Dana Kane Spanking for his winning story entry.

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MY KIND OF STRANGE*


Dana is a professional disciplinarian. She has short, straight black hair and dark blue eyes that always remind me of the “violet” color in Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes. She’s slender, with curves in all the right places.
We met at a bdsm party at ***. I had been intrigued by her look, including some impressive ink on her arms, and her energy, but never had the opportunity to talk to her.
I was on my morning run on Venice beach and there she was taking her surf board off the roof of her car. I stopped to ask if her name was Dana. You look familiar. She nodded, smiling at me until I asked the next appropriate question: “Were you at the *** party last Friday?”
It turned out that she had noticed me and was curious why I hadn’t made the effort to meet her at the party. Now, with her standing directly in front of me and giving me such an evil smirk, I felt drawn to find out for myself. I finally made the first move, inviting her over for breakfast when she was finished surfing. I pointed out my apartment building, gave her the number, and jogged off, feeling her eyes on me as I sprinted to the corner.
I’d gotten cleaned up by the time she arrived and, still in her wet suit, asked if she could shower while I finished getting breakfast ready. I heard her singing over the sound of the water. What would she wear when she got out of the shower? Would she put his wetsuit back on? Or wear a towel?
I was pouring orange juice into glasses she strode into my living room, surprising me. That’s what my friend Georgia had said about her, Dana was always full of surprises. She wasn’t wearing a towel. She wasn’t wearing her wet suit. She wasn’t wearing the robe from the back of the bathroom door. She was wearing one of my blue oxford cloth button down shirts with a pair of my black satin boxers.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, moving toward me, that evil-seductive grin still on her face.



I shook my head. “No, knock yourself out.” I wondered what she would do next, and I suddenly realized that I was starting to perspire from wondering.
“I couldn’t resist,” she said, sitting on the edge of my couch and staring at me. My apartment is small, with the dining room and living room together, separated only by the sofa. My hand was still on the forgotten orange juice container, my entire body was frozen in place.
I watched as she ran her fingertips along one of her long, slender legs. Her legs looked good, sexy, her body was very pale against the black silk boxers. I took a step toward her, thinking that I wanted to take the place of her hands, I wanted to run my fingertips along her legs.
“There’s something erotic…” she started to say, looking at her reflection in the mirrored panels around my fireplace, “…something sexy about opposite sex lingerie.”
I got up my nerve to walk all the way to her side and once there I settled myself next to her on the couch. I reached out to touch the silky material and she leaned back against the cushions and grabbed my wrist before I could make contact. “Since I’m wearing yours why don’t you slip in to these”, holding out a tiny pink thong trimmed in lace.
I couldn’t believe how turned on I was at seeing this woman in my underwear and quite frankly, would have jumped out of the window if she’d asked. As I high-tailed it to the bedroom to change, she called after me, “and bring that hair brush that’s on your dresser.”
I returned to the living room and stood behind the sofa, my hands trembling, I hand her the brush, and wait.
She took the brush and examined it. It is old. The wood polished smooth as silk. The handle worn soft with use, the light bristles set into the dark wood. Turning her face, she strokes the bristles through her hair, leaving a path of obsidian, shining brilliantly in the shafts of sunlight filtering through the window. I touch her hand. I reach for the brush. Desire winning the battle over fear, I take the brush. Beautiful. Terrifying. Love and hate mingling in my heart as the wood presses into the palm. I lay the soft bristles to her hair, drawing them slowly down, bringing a brilliant shine to her lustrous locks. 

As I begin another stroke, she raises her hand to mine. She takes the brush in her hand and gently pulls me around the couch towards her, guiding me between her spread legs, facing her. Slowly she lays the soft bristles against my chest as my hands fall to my sides. I tremble as the touch sends tingles of electricity through my body. She traces the brush around my nipple, the tingling spreading throughout my body. I am floating in the sensations. My head light with pleasure. I feel her touch being withdrawn, leaving an aching desire, an emptiness in my chest.. Her finger traces down my chest and over my stomach, hooking it in the waistband of the thong. She tugs gently, then slowly pulls the panties down to my ankles. Her eyes move slowly up and down my body.

I gasp and look down at her questioningly. She slides the fabric of the shirt tails up, revealing her naked thighs. I step to her side. I stumble, hobbled by my panties but quickly step out of them and stand by her left thigh. “Get over my lap,” she says in a sweet but insistent tone. Seizing my wrist again, she tugs me forward and bends me over her lap, settling me across her thighs. She runs her hand over my ass.
Her firm thighs support my body, as I lay myself before her. The rays of sun fall across my body, warming it, however a chill settles in my stomach as I feel her gentle touch on my naked buttocks. I feel her palm moving over my bottom, tracing small circles over the bare skin. The hunger surges up once more, fighting its way ahead of the chilling fear. I feel her thigh pressing against me. I push myself against her, moving my hips forward against her leg. I feel her touch vanish, once again leaving me empty, desolate. I pull back, raising my hips, aching for her touch. Wanting. Waiting.
Rubbing gently, caressing the backs of my thighs, her fingers play up the crevice between my cheeks, and slide down between my thighs. I open my legs, exposing myself to her, and she strokes my inner thighs with her fingertips. I draw a shuddering breath, and she lets her fingers trail up between my cheeks again. I raise my hips, offering myself to her. She lets her finger play over my bottom’s sit spot and I shudder again. Her fingertip traces around the sensitive skin, I twitch slightly. Very gently she draws her fingernail over it and I moan softly. “Please…” I whisper. She lets her finger trail down between my thighs once more, tickling the back of my legs. Slowly she withdrew her hand and I feel the hairbrush rest on my buttocks.
The smacking sound of contact, wood against skin echoes loudly. The sharp sting spreads quickly through my left buttock. My breath comes out in a soft gasp. Another smack accompanies a matching sting in my right buttock. My eyes close. The crack of wood against flesh fills my ears. The burning sting builds in my bottom. I shift, desperate for the sensations to cease. And with equal desperation, willing them to continue. The sting continues to build, as the terrible brush rises and falls like clockwork. It is too much. I thrust forward once more, knowing she can feel the stiffness against her thigh, but desperate to escape the stinging fire raining down on my bottom. As her soft skin brushes mine, a new desperation seizes me. I draw back, raising my hips to meet the next painful assault of the terrible, wonderful wood. The pain burns through my backside, as a new fire ignites in front. Again and again, I thrust forward, and back, meeting the fiery spanks above. As the heat builds, it mingles, until it is indistinguishable. The pain and the agonizing pleasure, all becoming one. The exquisite agony throbs through my body. Gasping as the pain and ecstasy rage through me, the crack of the brush coming faster, harder.
I collapse over her lap, breathing heavily. The wood, smooth, and soft, touching my skin. After a moment she puts the hairbrush down on the sofa. She raises her left hand, and I tense in anticipation. She brings it down with a sharp smack. I gasp, another smack, and another. I squirm, and as I raise my hips, smack, again and again. 

The sting is beginning to build in my backside now, but her left hand works deftly, Smack, smack, smack, smack, I am whimpering now, bucking wildly as she spanks me faster and faster. Smack smack smack smack… I moan and gasp. Smack smack smack smack smack smack…
Then just as suddenly as it started, it’s over. I collapse once more over her lap, panting. She rubs my tender cheeks which are bright pink from the stinging slaps. I lie still with eyes closed for several moments, breathing deeply, then slowly push myself up.
“Naughty boy,” she said, moving back, after we collapsed together on the sofa. I leaned my head against her chest and confessed to knowing about her, knowing that she liked things in the extreme. Confessed my curiosity. She smiled that devilish smile and stroked my hair away from my eyes. Then she cradled my head in her hands and said, “what do you expect when you invite a strange woman into your apartment…?”.
My kind of strange.


*Story inspired by “Whose Panties” by Allison Tyler

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Posted on

‘The Unexpected Visit’: F/M Spanking Fiction

Thanks to The Very Bad Boy, for his continuing saga of David (and his formidable disciplinarian and wife, Ann).


More great stories from The Very Bad Boy:
‘The Wedding Gift’
‘The Wedding Gift: Returning Home’


*Make sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text, to display the full story.


 “The Unexpected Visit”
I had just sat down in my easy chair; Ann was out of the house for the entire day. One of the weddings gifts we received included a certificate for a full day spa treatment at one of Dallas’s finest luxury day spas. I was more than happy to let Ann have the entire day to enjoy the gift especially as it allowed me to have the day to myself. My plan was to spend the day watching college football. It was rivalry week and the Saturday schedule featured some of the best college football rivalries. Just as the first football game was about to start I heard the sound of a car door closing, I did not pay much attention to it, as I knew Ann was gone all day and I was not expecting anyone to come by the house. Just before the kickoff the doorbell rang, I looked towards the door and thought who could possibly be at the door. I was not expecting anyone so I decided to ignore the doorbell and act as though no one was home. I waited for a few minutes as the doorbell rang another two times. After a few more moments, I thought whoever was at the door had given up and left. Just then, I heard the unmistakable sound of a key being inserted into the lock. I heard the door open and as I turned around to look, I saw Ann’s mother Mellissa standing in the doorway. 
                “So is this the way you plan on treating your mother-in-law? Do you really think it is a good idea to keep me waiting on the front porch while you hide in your chair trying to make me think you are not home?” I was a bit shocked; I was not expecting anyone to stop by the house today especially not Ann’s mother. As I stood up, I stammered “sorry Mellissa I didn’t realize you were at the door….umm… Ann is not here right now she …umm went to the day spa and… umm won’t be back until later this evening” “That’s ok David, I’m not here to see Ann, I’m here to see you. I figured you were not busy today so I thought I would stop by and have a little discussion with you while Ann is out. Why don’t you turn off the TV, there is nothing worth watching at this time of day anyway.” I stammered a bit more as I replied “As I said… uh Ann… umm Ann is not here so … Well… you know…, I just started watching the football game and it’s, it’s rivalry week… so… I was uh… planning on spending the day watching football.” Maybe you could come back later after… umm Ann returns from the spa later this evening.” Walking towards me she replied “Don’t be silly David, I already told you I am here to see you, so why don’t you turn off the TV so we can have a nice little chat.” Just then a loud cheer erupted from the television, I heard the announcer shouting something about one of the most fantastic catches he had ever witnessed. Without thinking, I turned towards the TV hoping to catch the replay. Looking back, I realize how unfortunate that seemingly simple decision was. “David! What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing? How dare you turn your back on me while I am talking to you, I suggest you turn the TV off right this minute!” I turned back towards Mellissa and uttered,” I’m… uh…umm sorry Mellissa, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful” and that is when I saw it a well-used wooden hairbrush sticking out of her handbag.
                Mellissa briskly walked over to me taking hold of my ear and led me across the room to the sofa. While I was use to Ann pulling my ear, Melissa had her own unique technique. Instead of grabbing the earlobe and pulling as Ann does, she grabs the earlobe and gives it a twist as she pulls upward. This caused a quick burning sensation and forced me to stand on my toes as she pulled me towards the sofa. As we approached the sofa, she twisted my earlobe just a bit more to emphasize she was in charge. As we reached the sofa, Mellissa hesitated just a moment before she sat down; she pulled down on my ear which caused me to awkwardly take a seat on the sofa. After sitting down she released my ear and placed her handbag on the coffee table. She gracefully crossed her legs in a feminine manner and elegantly placed her folded hands on the top of her knees and said, “Let’s have a little talk shall we?” 
“I’ve been meaning to talk with you about a few issues since you returned from Rome. Seeing as Ann is out all day, I think it is a perfect time for us to discuss these issues. I don’t know if you realized it or not, but Ann was noticeably irritated the day of the wedding. She overheard some of your groomsmen talking about your bachelor party. She was pretty upset about what she heard and was going to confront you, however, I intervened and told her to let it go and not let it ruin her perfect day.” I did not like where this conversation was heading especially as I told Ann I was just going to have a small party with a few friends. However, it turned out to be a bit bigger than I planned and it got out of hand when my best man announced he had hired a stripper to entertain us. I had promised Ann no matter what happens we would not have a stripper at the party. I knew I should have said something to Danny but he had already paid for the stripper and I thought to myself “what Ann does not know won’t hurt her”, anyway it was my bachelor party and it was not like I would ever hire a stripper myself. Mellissa continued, “I understand guys don’t always think very clearly especially when they are drinking. I also realize guys can make some incredibly foolish decisions from time to time, so I convinced Ann she should let it go. Besides, I told her I would talk to you about it and make sure you clearly understood that your behavior and choices you made were unacceptable.” I was worried as I glanced over to the coffee table and saw the well used wooden hairbrush sticking out of Mellissa’s handbag. She reached over to the handbag pulled out the hairbrush and placed it on the coffee table. She then reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope, which I noticed right away, was from the hotel that Ann and I stayed and where we had the bachelor party.
“You know David; my intention was to just talk with you about the bachelor party. I wanted to reinforce the importance of being honest with Ann and to help you understand how important it is for you to respect her wishes. As I said earlier, I understand how young men can lose control of their common sense from time to time so I was not going to make a big deal out of your juvenile and imprudent behavior. But then I received this letter from the hotel while you and Ann were in Rome and well…to be honest, the letter has caused me to reconsider my plan for you.” She handed me the letter, by this time I was so nervous that I just skimmed the letter. I stopped however when I saw an itemized list of charges which totaled $1800.00. As I looked over the list, I noticed the charges included a broken bathroom mirror, a broken ceiling fan, a broken chair, 2 missing bathrobes, missing bath towels and a missing TV remote. To top it off there was also a $250.00 mini bar bill and a $4000.00 room service bill. I just stared at the bill for a few moments trying to think of something to say. All I could think of was how mad Ann was going to be when she saw the bill; I knew I was going to find myself back over Ann’s lap for another long hard spanking. Well, I did end up getting a long spanking that day but to my complete astonishment, it was not from Ann. 
“David, there are some behaviors I can overlook but one thing I cannot overlook is financial irresponsibility. I know you and Ann cannot afford to pay this $1800.00 bill from the hotel can you” I looked at Mellissa and timidly answered “no ma’am” she replied, “well, I figured that to be the case, so I decide I would go ahead and pay the bill for you.” I looked at her and managed to say “I promise I’ll pay you back, I am really sorry about” Mellissa cut me off in midsentence and said “I don’t expect you to pay me back, I do however imagine that by the end of the day you will wish I had insisted that you pay me back. Well, on second thought you are going to pay me back but just not the way you think.” With that, Mellissa stood up, pointed to the far corner of the room, and said I think it would be a good idea for you to stand in the corner for a little while and think about your behavior. While you are standing in the corner, I am going to get my attaché case out of the car and when I return we will continue our little discussion.” 
I heard Mellissa place something on the coffee table but I was too scared to look over my shoulder to see what it was. I heard the sound of a latch opening and the clatter of items being placed on the coffee table. I was still unsure what Mellissa was planning but I had a sinking feeling it was not going to be anything good. I thought there was no way Ann’s mother would spank me. I figured she would wait until Ann came home, show her the letter from the hotel, and let Ann take care of punishing me. Unfortunately I could not have been any more wrong, I was about to find out just how painful a spanking can be when given by someone with many years of spanking experience. I would soon discover that a spanking could be unbearably painful without being particularly hard. Often times a prolonged serious of lighter swats landing on the same exact spot can cause even the toughest man to quickly breakdown. Unfortunately, this was something Ann would eventually learn herself and would become very skilled at doing.
Mellissa called me over to the sofa, as I made my way over to her I glanced at the coffee table and noticed she had laid out a number of implements which I would soon learn to despise. The first implement I saw was the well used wooden hairbrush, it was newer than the one Ann used however it showed its age as it was used many times over the years. I eventually learned there was more than one family hairbrush and from time to time, a new brush was introduced to the family. The brush that Mellissa has custody of was handed down from her Aunt Judith; she gave Mellissa the brush a few weeks before her wedding and taught her how to use it. The brush was one of the newer family brushes at the time. Aunt Judith was a very skilled disciplinarian and was known as one of the hardest spankers in the family. In fact, it was not unusual for Aunt Judith to “help out” the other family members from time to time when the wives had trouble keeping their husbands under control. Aunt Judith was known to break a hairbrush once in awhile over the erring bottom of a yet submissive husband. The brush Mellissa received was only a few years old at the time but after twenty-five years of marriage and constant use, it was beginning to develop the shiny surface that many of the older brushes displayed after many years of use. 
Next to the hairbrush was a large leather strap, it too was well used and was very supple, I could tell it was properly cared for and was frequently oiled to ensure the leather stayed soft and flexible. Next to the leather strap was a long thin wooden paddle it was as wide as a ruler and about 24 inches long, I would soon learn it produced a very unpleasant sting. Next to the wooden paddle was a large clear paddle, which I discovered was made of lexan a very strong but flexible material that produce a very painful sting. Next to the lexan paddle were two canes one was a rattan cane and the other was a thin fiberglass cane. I had not had the displeasure of experiencing a fiberglass cane but if it hurt as much as a rattan cane, I knew for sure I would not like it as I do not like canes. 
Standing in front of Mellissa, she motioned me closer towards her and reached out to unbuckle my belt. I was still in denial that she was going to spank me so I just stood there somewhat passively; it was not until she unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down that I finally accepted the reality that she was in fact going to spank me. I took a small step back but before I could get too far she reached over and grabbed hold of my shorts pulling me back towards her and at the same time pulling my shorts down. I immediately reached down to cover myself up; Mellissa simply responded by saying “silly boy do you think you have something I have never seen before? I am not interested in what you have in front I am interested in your back side”. She then grabbed my left wrist and with one smooth tug brought me down across her lap. I landed across her knees with my chest resting on the sofa, she adjusted her position, and with her left arm she pulled me snug against her waist. She stopped for a moment to admire the cane marks that were fading from the last time Ann had given me a spanking. She rubbed my bum for a moment and mentioned that Ann was doing a good job at disciplining me. She reached over to the coffee table and picked up the wooden hairbrush. She paused to look at the brush and said, “Well old friend, it looks as though we have our work cut out for us” and with that I felt the first of many painful swats that would land on my bare bottom that day. 
Mellissa continued to use the hairbrush until my bum was a nice crimson red; she made sure every area of my bum received equal treatment. I could feel the heat radiating off every part of my bottom and although it hurt it did not compare to the pain I was about to experience when she switched to the wooden paddle. She picked up the thin wooden paddle and adjusted me across her lap at an angle so my right thigh was up a little higher. This gave her a clear shot at my upper thigh and allowed her to land some very well aimed slaps on a very sensitive area. While Ann was a good spanker, she tended to concentrate most of her swats on the middle section of my bum, which hurt a lot but over time would become numb. Mellissa was not going to allow my bum to go numb she concentrated on one area until she noticed I was not responding as well as I had when she first started, then she would move to another area. While using the hairbrush Mellissa had a heavier hand making sure each blow landed with a solid thud, which produced a well spread out sting. However, when she used the thin wooden paddle she was a lot softer. With the hairbrush, she would land each blow in a different spot, but with the thin paddle, she concentrated on one single spot, landing blow after blow on the same spot, which quickly led to an agonizing sting. 
She began slowly, allowing each burning blow to fade before landing the next one. Each blow produced a concentrated sting that quickly dissipated. I noticed after a minute or so she increased her speed but kept the intensity the same. This resulted in a longer lasting sting that did not fully fade away before the next blow landed. This caused the stinging to buildup creating a longer and more sustained sting. After another minute or so, she increased the speed again but kept the intensity unchanged. By this time the stinging sensation was giving way to a deep burning sensation, the burn traveled deeper than the sting and I found myself trying to get away from the constant blows, which were landing in the same location. I tried to move my hips just a little to make the blows land in a different place, but she seemed to anticipate my every move as she simply adjusted her aim to allow each blow to continue landing on the same spot. By now, I was making a lot of noise as I tried to compensate for the pain, the pain increased to the point where it was now an agonizing throbbing pain. I cried out for Mellissa to stop, I tried rolling from side to side but each time I did she just held me tighter. I tried arching my back hoping to deflect the blows to another area, but she merely dug her elbow into the middle of my back causing me to lie back down across her lap. Finally, the pain was so intense all I could do was to simply go limp and try my best to endure the unrelenting burning sting. After a few minutes of this unrelenting spanking, my mind began to go numb and I stopped responding at all, it was at this point she moved to another area and began the entire process again. The combination of steady intensity with increasing speed made it feel like an eternity before she moved to another area. When she finally moved to another spot she gave me just enough time before starting again to think about why I was getting a spanking and boy did I ever regret making the decision to allow the bachelor party to get out of hand.     
At last she laid the thin paddle on the coffee table and gave me a small nudge telling me to stand up. By this time, I was no longer concerned with my mother-in-law seeing all that God had given me; I was more concerned with trying to rub the pain out of my bum. When Mellissa stood up, she reached over and took the leather strap off the coffee table, and led me by the arm to the dining room. She led me to our small wooden table and pulled the side chair away from the table. She pointed to the table and told me to bend over the top of the table and grab hold of the other side. As I bent over the table she spread my feet apart so they where about shoulder length apart. With her right hand she held onto the strap’s handle and with her left hand she held the tip of the strap. She brought both the strap and her hand back and with a quick snapping motion she let go of the tip and brought the strap across my stretched out bum. Unlike the blows from the hairbrush and the paddle, the leather strap was free to land wherever it chose. The strap landed with a resounding smack and the follow through left a nice long slender red mark on my bum. I yelled out in pain and stood up quickly rubbing the spot where the strap landed. Mellissa reached over and pushed me back down on the table. “David I suggest you maintain your position, you don’t want to see what happens if you get up again.” she reached back and landed another blow on my bum, again I stood up but before I could reach behind me to rub the spot where the strap landed she quickly landed another blow on my lower leg. I yelped in pain as the leather strap dug into my tender skin leaving an immediate bruise, the pain seemed to linger for the longest time. It only took one swat across my lower leg to realize the foolishness of standing up. By this time my bum was throbbing and blazing hot and I could not find any relief from the unbearable pain.  
Mellissa walked over to the coffee table and looked at the two canes. She picked up the rattan cane and swished it through the air. She then picked up the thin fiberglass cane and did the same thing, looking at both the canes, she decided on the thin whippy fiberglass one. As she walked back to the dining room table she said “David I think you are going to find this little fiberglass cane to be very unpleasant. However, I think it will be just the right implement to deal with your immature behavior. What do you think, should we go with one stroke for every dollar I have to pay the hotel?” I froze with fear; did she really intend to give me 1800 strokes with the cane? Mellissa looked at me and saw the fear in my eyes and she gave a little laugh. “relax Doll, I may be a harsh disciplinarian but I am not a sadist,let’s just go with 18, how does that sound” I wish I could say I was relived but the thought of 18 cane strokes was something I did not think I could handle. The spanking thus far had been extremely painful I was at the end of my endurance. I meekly replied “I…I think…I have learned my lesson Ma’am, I am very sorry for … uh… my immature behavior, please I… umm don’t think I can take any more.” Mellissa was lightly rubbing my swollen bum, the marks where the strap had landed were clearly visible and the area where the wooden paddle landed was beginning to bruise. She gave my bum a few quick pats and replied “come on David, I think you can take a few more, you certainly are mature enough to accept your punishment, even though your behavior may have been juvenile, I know you can take these 18 cane strokes. 
 “Go ahead and spread your legs a bit more, I want a nice target to aim at” I hesitated for just a moment, I thought about not doing what she said and keeping my legs where they were. Mellissa viewed any hesitation as disobedience and she dealt with any disobedience immediately. Taking the cane, she began to whip it back and forth between my legs in a fast side-to-side motion. She started with the upper inner thighs and slowly worked her way down to the ankles. The quick side-to-side whipping action of the thin cane caused a severe stinging sensation almost like bee stings. Maintaining the quick side-to-side whipping motion, she continued her downward journey with the thin cane in a very slow and methodical fashion. The pain was building so fast that I found it hard to stand still, by the time she reached my lower legs it took all my control to keep from jumping from foot to foot. The combination of the intensity of the constant stinging and the quick side-to-side whipping action finally caused my legs to buckle. “Why are you making this so hard on yourself, darling? I would think by now you would do anything I ask so we could get this spanking over with, but I guess sometime naughty boys just have a hard time obeying.” When she reached my ankles she slowly began to make her way back up my inner legs. I was crying out in pain and jumping from foot to foot trying to find some relief from the unrelenting stinging that was coming from the cane strikes. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I cried out to her to stop. Mellissa looked at me and said “it looks as though you have learned your lesson about obeying when you are told to do something” Lets hurry and get this over with and with that she proceeded to lay 18 well aimed strokes with the cane. Each stroke landed with a stinging blow, which lingered for a few moments before giving way to a deep burning sensation that traveled from the depth of the skin to the surface. Each stroke of the cane reinforced my aversion for canes. 
The perfectly lined cane marks gradually transformed into welts, each stroke landing just a fraction of an inch from where the pervious stroke landed forming a swell of welts resembling tiny speed bumps on my bottom. Mellissa reached down and leisurely ran her fingernails over the forming welts. “These welts are shaping up nicely and just in time for us to take care of one more small issue” she walked over to the coffee table and picked up the lexan paddle. “I don’t think you have ever felt a lexan paddle before have you?” While Lexan is nearly impossible to break it does have a nice flexible quality to it, which provides sort of a springing action as it makes contact with the bum. “What I really like about lexan is that it is clear, which means I get a nice clear view of your bum reacting to each blow.” She placed her left hand on the small of my back and placed the lexan paddle directly over the forming welts. She lifted the paddle and lightly tapped the welts. I could immediately tell a full swing landing on the welts would send waves of excruciating pain across my entire bum. I vainly cried out “please ma’am don’t use the paddle, I can’t take any more, I promise I will never misbehave like that again.” Nevertheless, my pleas went unheeded as she lifted the paddle and brought it crashing down across the welts. I instantly stiffened as waves of sharp piercing pain shot through my aching bum. I nearly collapsed as the waves of insufferable pain spread deeply across my bum. “I suspect David you will give me your full attention when I talk to you and not decide that a ridiculous football game is more important than what I have to say.” She lifted the paddle again and proceeded to give me ten swats with the lexan paddle, each swat finding its mark on the bruised and throbbing welts. When she finally stopped I fell to the floor grasping my bum praying that somehow I could make the pain go away. However, it was a very long time before the pain and the memory of the first spanking I received from my mother-in-law would fade away.
Later that evening Ann returned from her spa appointment, as she walked through the door she saw her mother sitting on the sofa. “Hey mom I didn’t expect to see you today, didn’t David tell you I had a spa appointment?” Melissa replied with a slight smile, “I actually come over to have a little chat with David, we had a few things to talk about and I thought today would be a good day to further enhance our relationship.” I looked up at Ann and she gave me a little quizzical smile and I simply returned her smile as I carefully adjusted my position on the sofa.” Ann come over and gave me a kiss and said, “You will have to tell me all about the discussion you and mom had today.” As she gave her mother a quick glance and a wink, I noticed Ann was wearing the red ribbon from the special wedding gift in her hair. 
The next morning my bum was so sore I could hardly walk, by this time the bruises had darkened and the stinging pain had given way to a lingering aching pain. The welts were still red and very painful and continued to shoot waves of pain across my bum with each step I took. As I walked into the kitchen I picked up the Sunday paper and noticed that all the teams I was pulling for yesterday shared a common experience with me, we each received a severe beating at the hands of a far superior rival.         

  
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Spanking Bits and Pieces



Readers,


This is blog post number 103. Thank you again and again for reading, commenting, and participating.

*****

Occasionally, I have the opportunity to sit still and catch up on the other blogs which I enjoy reading.  While perusing Serving B recently, I stumbled upon a posting that I had not noticed previously, titled ‘Shout Out to Dana Kane’. Serving B has written a very kind commentary on me and my blog, and I am thoroughly complimented. I am also slightly mortified that it’s taken me quite so long to read and acknowledge this kindness…my apologies and many thanks to Serving B.

*****



Another reader sent me a link in response to my post ‘F/M Spanking Scenes in Media’. 
Called ‘Again’, a Footlocker advertisement from 2010, this one is spanking parody gold. Linked from YouTube.

*****
My most recent survey – Let’s Talk Spanking – has received 347 responses. 
Here are a few of the results:


35% of you identified as: 
I am mostly a Spankee, but sometimes I like to give a little spanking myself.


52% of you:
Haven’t participated in Public Spanking…yet.


63% enjoy incorporating Corner Time into spanking play.


29% of you are exclusive with your spanking partner.


I’ve gratefully received many rave reviews of the blog, it’s format, and content. I have also received a few well-thought critiques, for which I am equally grateful. I will continue to make improvements and provide new and original content (with a lot of help from wonderful readers and contributors).


-Dana


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com


*****

I have received a couple emails from readers who are unable to post comments to the blog posts. I am unsure whether this is a blogger problem or a poster problem, so – please take a moment to email me if you’re having difficulties posting comments and I will try and repair any errors in code.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Dana Kane Video: Before the Party

He thinks that we are headed out to attend a dinner party..but I have more important things to attend first.  Namely, his near-constant brattiness – and a stern warning to be on his best behavior for the remainder of the evening (we’ll see about that).    


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New Dana Kane Video Teaser

New Dana Kane Spanking Video:

 –  Before the Party  –
“Dana
I will embed the video here soon as the encoding is done.   – Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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MarQe’s Journal – Weekly Entries 1 through 4

While my UK visit is still tentative, I am hoping to make it there in September/October – or at the very least, before year’s end. And although he has been waiting for near two months, MarQe just couldn’t wait any longer to begin his journal. 
I have instructed him to submit one journal entry per week, until I reach the UK. This could be quite a commitment for MarQe if my travel plans are postponed, and I am somewhat tickled by the idea of long and drawn-out written ‘discipline’ assignments.

I am looking forward to reinforcing the concept of patience, among other points, when we do finally meet.   

Naturally, MarQe has approved of the sharing of his journal here.
– Dana

From MarQe: 
Journal Entry Week #1

 Mistress Dana Kane is planning a visit to our shores in the UK & it is likely that I shall be visiting her for a dose of discipline which just might push me to my limit if her film clips are anything to go by !!
  I’m already nervous especially when she decides to reach for the hairbrush. It seems she applies this with terrifying power, speed & accuracy, I may well be gripping whatever is available very tightly indeed ! But when will she lower my shorts? When I’m standing before her my hands on my head ?!! ….. Maybe when I’ve been taken onto her lap ?! ….. Shall I be scolded for spanking girls & spending money I can ill afford on visits to massage parlours ?!

Something deep inside yearns for the moment when her spanking takes hold of me & my cares slip away as I am forced to concentrate on Mistress Dana’s punishment …..!!

— MarQe’s Study sister blog:


Journal Entry Week #2

–  Mistress I think I need a prolonged session on your lap & regrettably a sound spanking with your hairbrush. As someone who spanks naughty girls I think it is is always best to lower underwear whilst the miscreant stands before you, hands on head. That allows the humiliation of their nakedness to be revealed as you tug down their underwear & make them step out of them. Maybe standing them between your legs and slapping their bottom & the back of their legs before taking them on to your lap Mistress.

Journal Entry Week #3  


Well as I have mentioned I am primarily a spanker of naughty girls. Indeed I am dealing with this naughty girl tomorrow {Tuesday!}. I have been obsessed with spanking since I  was very young & used to get ‘excited’ when starlets got spanked in the movies so as I grew older I progressed into seeking out my own spanking experiences. I was never spanked as a child apart from once when I was bent over in the playground & given a few sharp smacks over my trousers by a female teacher. It was always being the Spanker rather than the Spanked that first attracted me although I was in hospital once when I was about 10 & fanatasized about a nurse putting me over her knee ?

I like most spanking/C..P. scenarios apart from the very severe stuff. I am always aware of my girls limits when I’m doing the spanking but enjoy administering a ‘punishment’ rather than fun spankings, unless they are erotic in nature ! It is only the last 2 or 3 years that I have become curious about being spanked & decided that if it was going to happen I would visit ‘Real’ Mistresses as I don’t like the idea of switching with my girls. So far I have visited two Headmistresses, Miss Jessica & Miss Dawn. I am due to be seen by Miss Davenshaw next month & then I am to be summoned by one of the strictest UK Dommes, The Hunterress in about 2 months time. I take a long, hard OTK including the hairbrush, which I dread but nevertheless prefer to receive hard & fast so that I am made to squirm & take a grip of my Mistressses leg.  If there is one implement I actually like it is the strap !?  I have taken 50 with the cane but Miss Jessica was very careful as I have only a small bottom & am quite slight of build. All the Ladies I have visited or hope to visit are on my ‘Yes Mistress!’ blog.

Having seen some of your clips Miss I think you’ll be well capable of teaching me a real & valuable lesson about the time & money I spend on spanking naughty girls & visiting ladies for personal services !! I expect my limits to be tested Miss!

MarQe
Journal Entry Week #4

 So I wonder ? I am in ‘that‘ space … my extended spanking on Miss Dana’s lap is coming to it’s finale as she rubs me gently before more rapid spanks from her hairbrush followed by a strict instruction to stand !!  My nakedness returns me to a vulnerability & thoughts that my punishment may not yet be over ? I look around the room fleetingly, I want to see her cane & at the same time dread laying my eyes on it ! How will she administer it? Will I be bent over, tied, my bottom raised over pillows piled high on a bed or as she brought me to a place where a purpose made bench awaits me ? She awards me a number of strokes, Miss counts the number I respond after each one, “Thank You Ma’am’ ……….. She continues !




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My Spanking Photos and Videos – all in one place, at last.

Readers,

I have finally managed to figure out a relatively simple way of adding, rotating, and maintaining videos and photos for my blogsite – all on one page. It is more difficult than you’d think. 
Because Blogger does not make available a widget for photo galleries, getting lots of photos or videos all organized on one page has been a challenge. Most of the options require html-fiddling skills which I do not posses. I even toyed with employing a professional website builder in order to get a more streamlined look, but in the end it all seemed too impersonal.
I have opted for using simple, easily-accessible programs and widgets that require little or no programming language. The Blogger platform allows me to easily manage and maintain a ton of content without having to write pages of code or deal with an FTP, and also affords me the opportunity to directly communicate with a community of others who share my same interests. This is priceless.

With that in mind, I have also decided against a flashy, fiddly, members/paysite, now or in the future. I will be offering some select videos for purchase, once I am pleased with the production quality (video, audio, set, etc.) of the projects on which I am currently working. Those videos will likely be available directly from my blog, by way of a link to a site like SpankingLibrary.com or Clips4Sale.com. I will also (adamantly, and against some decent advice) be making select content available in DVD format. This will all be kept as simple as possible, including NOT fragmenting full-length videos into maddening three-minute clips.

In the meantime, please continue to enjoy the videos which I thoroughly enjoy sharing with you – free – of home spankings, traveling tails, and favorite playmates. There will be many more.

I will update the gallery page with new photos and videos soon as they’re available…and have added a link in the sidebar on the right-hand side of the blog, directly below the Latest Videos:     – Dana

CLICK FOR MORE DANA KANE SPANKING VIDEOS AND PHOTOS
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Upcoming Travel, and Contest Update


I will be visiting New York City, which seems to have become a second home, August 6-10, 2011. 
As most of my available time is to be devoted to my regular playmates, appointments will be strictly limited, and must be booked well in advance.
Please email for details and scheduling:   

*****

The ‘Story of US’ Writing Contest ends in ten days. I have received some excellent stories and will thoroughly enjoy providing the winner with his or her Prize – a free spanking session with me.
If you haven’t entered yet, take a few minutes to write your story (or song, or rhyme, or picture story…) of US.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Ladies Who I Adore


Many thanks to the fabulous Madeline at Chicago Dungeon for hosting me on my recent visit to her town. Her playspace is amazing and I am thrilled to be able to offer such a lovely location to my Chicago playmates. Madeline is one of the most intelligent, professional, and genuine women I have met in my travels, and I look forward to seeing her and Switch Elle (as well as all those lovely Chicago bottoms!) again soon.
***

My great new friend (and owner of NYC Rubber Studios) Ariana Chevalier has been  kind enough to mention me on her blog. Ariana is a fearsome Domme and a most gracious hostess…I look forward to seeing her and the other ladies of ParthenonNYC again in August.
***

(Photo: A particularly spankable Detroit bottom – this boy’s butt gets cuter every time I see it.)

***


In Los Angeles, you won’t find a classier, more refined Domme than Mistress Damiana Chi – and her playspace, Chi Temple, is the setting for many of my most memorable spankings.


***


Not only is Saint Leather one of the most lovely friends a girl could have, but she is also a world-class leatherworker. Her floggers are amazing works of art. 
The ‘Duster’ design is especially beautiful (and effective).
***

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



If you are tardy – you had better have an Excellent Reason. 
Not an Excuse.
(Very few exist of the former, and very many of the latter.)

“Spanking

 

Traffic is an Excuse. 
It is ever-present.

Leave earlier.

Oversleeping is an Excuse. 
You are an adult. 
Get up when your alarm rings.

Tired is an Excuse. 
And so is Busy.
Get more rest. 
Learn to better manage your time.
Do not make more Excuses for failing to do so.


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Dana Kane Video: Disciplining Nephew

Readers,


Michael is one of my favorite long-time playmates, and he’s generously offered to allow me to share some excerpted video clips from our recent role-play.
(This is my first attempt at use of the new camcorder, lights, editing, splicing, and the like. Be gentle.) 


– Dana

If clicking the green arrow doesn’t start the play, double click the video screen to open the player in a new tab.
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Required (Spanking) Reading and New Implements

Readers, 
Here are a few titles currently on my radar. If you’ve any recommendations for me and your fellow spankos please leave them in the comments section.     – Dana






By Governess Gemma Forbes:


The Adult Spanking and Discipline Handbook: A Comprehensive Guide to Corporal Punishment 




Synopsis: “In the pages of this book you’ll find a plethora of stories about the early days of Ms. Forbes’ career. You’ll also find here essential useful tips, hints and advice for beginners and experienced spanking enthusiasts alike.”






By Erica Scott:


What Happens to Naughty Girls?


Synopsis: “A dozen classically romantic M/F spanking stories, blending fantasy, intensity, discipline and eroticism. Bonus: Two nonfiction stories, recounting the author’s first spanking and first video shoot.”
(Look for Erica’s new book coming soon.)




By Jacqueline Omerta:


The Psychology of Adult Spanking Series (Volumes 1-7)


Synopsis (Volume I): “Jacqueline Omerta, a licensed Marriage Family Therapist and adult spanking fetishist, offers a comprehensive overview of the basic components of how the spanking fetish develops and why it is so driving. She then interviews and gives a real-time, over the knee spanking to Cynthia, a woman who is currently exploring her need to be spanked.”

*****

I’ve been acquiring some new and interesting implements, including this 13″ leather paddle, sandpaper pingpong paddle, 10″round leather paddle, and big bath brush. I was also recently gifted a beautiful cobalt blue-handled riding crop.


Still on my list…

A pretty, short-handled carpet beater
A Jokari paddle
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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An affinity for quality wooden implements



While I do love the smell and slap of leathers, and the swish of the cane makes me warm, the craftsmanship of wooden implements sometimes leave the strongest ‘impression’ on me, so to speak.


Not only for the sheer enjoyment I receive from the looks on the faces of my bottoms, but for the beauty and variation of the implements themselves.


– Dana


An accidental stumbling-upon on Twitter lead me to KittysExoticPaddles.com, where I immediately fell in love with the Bolivian Rosewood Flapjack Paddle:





This love affair spurred further online investigations, which resulted in some beautiful and fearsome-looking paddles:


Bassett Woodworking makes lots of nice wooden things, but their custom wood paddles are what caught my attention. ‘Time Out’ is my favorite.




It would be impossible to list makers of great paddles without mentioning Wdspoone at maamyesmaam.blogspot.com. His craftsmanship and attention to detail are obvious.

Here are a few more interesting paddles I found:
Deep Purple Passion Paddle
Cane-iac Customized Paddle
‘You may want to rethink that last remark’
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Tiffany’ – The Cowboy Writer does F/M Spanking

This is a saucy one from The Cowboy Writer, and I’ve used asterisks liberally to edit some beautiful yet naughty language. There is a whole lot of spanking going on at Woodsley College…definitely my kind of institution. Enjoy!   – Dana




For the rest of Cowboy Writer’s stories:
Taming the Cowboy
Taming the Cowboy II: The Cowboy’s Revenge
School for Husbands
Beth

Make sure to click ‘Read More’ at the bottom of the visible text for the entire story.

*****

‘Tiffany’


Woodsley College was no ordinary post secondary institution.
Its standards were extremely high in every area and strict rules of conflict were in place.
Although all of its students were over the age of 18 , violations were still dealt with in the old fashioned way.
This included corporal punishment at the discretion of School Vice-President , Janice Murphy.

Janice was from the old school and believed that the best way to correct errant young gentlemen was to thoroughly warm their backsides.
Her reputation was formidable and the very sound of her paddle being applied to the seat of a young man’s trousers , or the sight of him emerging from her office , teary eyed and clutching his backside was enough to make most think twice.

However , under the College rules , young ladies were exempt from such punishment , and instead received lines , detention or extra work.
This type of chastisement seemed to work well on the young ladies but was very ineffective for their male counterparts.

David Welks and his girlfriend Tiffany Brennan were both 20 and had been dating for a few months.
For both it was their first visit to Mrs. Murphy’s office .
“Sit down Tiffany and start writing those 200 lines while I deal with your partner-in crime Mr. Welks, ” Janice Murphy ordered firmly .

Mrs. Murphy sat behind her huge desk  peering at Tiffany over her thick, horn-rimmed glasses.
“I said  get started Tiffany !” she barked impatiently at the young lady.
Tiffany sighed and winked saucily at her boyfriend, still standing bravely in front of the Vice Principal ‘s desk.

“Now for you young man !” Mrs. Murphy warned in a deep commanding voice.
Tiffany concealed a mischievous giggle as David smirked and cast her an assuring glance.
While Tiffany admired his confidence ,  the strict Vice-Principal saw only defiance and the need to teach him some humility and respect.
David’s look changed when he saw Mrs. Murphy reach into her desk drawer and produce a large wooden paddle.
Tiffany’s jaw dropped in astonishment and David gulped nervously. 
Mrs. Murphy rose from her chair , menacingly tapping the paddle against her palm.
Beads of sweat began to form on David’s brow as he pondered his impending fate.
“You will receive six strokes of the paddle Mr.Welks – bend over.” Mrs. Murphy ordered.
Tiffany put a hand to her mouth, hardly able to believe her ears . 
She had heard that Murphy would occasionally paddle boys but was still shocked at her announcement.
David was outraged and struggled to find words.
“How come she gets lines and I get the paddle Ma’am? Its not fair!” he protested.
Mrs. Murphy was unperturbed.
“Be assured you will also be writing lines young man , but the experience will be much more effective for you following a sound paddling.
Now stop dawdling boy and bend over!” she repeated angrily.

David’s embarrassment was apparent turning his face a beet red .
Mrs. Murphy glared at him “Do as I say boy or I will add extra swats!”
David’s shoulders dropped and ,reluctantly,  he assumed the position.

Meanwhile , Tiffany was having trouble containing her excitement at the prospect of watching her boyfriend receive paddling .
“Now touch your toes.” The VP  demanded.
Mrs. Murphy took up a stance to David’s left side and lightly tapped the paddle against the seat of his tight pants , lining it up against her target.

Tiffany took a long look at her boyfriend’s cute rear and then cringed when Mrs. Murphy swung the paddle , bringing it down with a resounding ‘CRAAACK!’ 
David tried his best to keep his composure , but when the 2nd swat landed he could not hold back a  loud wail.
He struggled to stay in place, dreading the 4 strokes still to come.
‘THWAAACK!’ ‘ CRAAAACK!’
Swats 3 and 4 were delivered in rapid succession and increased venom.
The young man’s rear felt like it was on fire now.
Tears were welling in his eyes when swat number 5 landed , almost knocking him off his feet.
“Maintain your position boy!” Mrs. Murphy warned , noticing his wobbly legs.
Leaning forward again , David reached for his toes and waited for the final swat.
Tiffany was thrilled by the way the older lady wielded the paddle  and was  quite impressed at how David had taken his licks .
Clutching the paddle with both hands , the VP swung it high above her shoulder and landed it squarely in the middle of David’s rear.
There was a crack as loud as a gunshot and a blood curdling howl from David on impact.
“You may get up now Mr. Welks.” An out of breath Mrs. Murphy told him.

Slowly David stood up and clutched his burning backside with both hands.
“I trust this will serve as a strong reminder to you not to cheat on exams?” she asked him unsympathetically.
David moaned and glanced over at a beaming Tiffany.
It had been her idea to steal the exam answers from the Teachers’ lounge but he was the one caught red-handed with them once the game was up.

“AAAH!” David gasped and contorted his face in a grimace when he carefully sat his sore behind on the hard wooden chair.
Mrs. Murphy and Tiffany chuckled in unison at his discomfort.
 “In your best handwriting Mr. Welks , otherwise you will sit there longer……and I’m sure you don’t want that do you?” Mrs. Murphy lectured.
Mrs. Murphy  returned to her desk and put away the paddle
Of course an impish Tiffany made sure she took her opportunity to tease her boyfriend by wetting her finger and putting it on the seat of her skirt , mouthing a sizzling sound.
Tiffany’s obvious amusement angered David , but somehow he managed to squirm on his seat until his lines were finished and passed Mrs. Murphy’s inspection.
“You will both re-write your exam tomorrow , and Mr. Welks…. if you are back in my office again for such behavior I will put you over my knee and administer my hairbrush to your bare bottom!
Is that understood?”
Tiffany grinned and David blushed.“Yes Ma’am…” he mumbled.

She was still grinning as they walked down the hall together to their next class.
Tiffany brought her arm back and surprised her boyfriend by landing a playful slap on his tender rear.
“OW! Carefull Tiff….what was that for?” David howled.
“That’s a little reminder to pick me up at 7 tonight …and don’t dare be late like last time or I’ll take you over my knee !” she chirped, planting a peck on David’s cheek before scurrying off to class.
All through the lesson , Tiffany could think of nothing but Murphy’s paddle blistering her boyfriends cute bottom.
She admired the power and control exercised by Mrs. Murphy and how David had obediently accepted his chastisement.
Tiffany pictured herself in the V.P.’s place , wielding the paddle or applying the hairbrush to his bare bottom as she had threatened.

At lunchtime Tiffany was the centre of attention as her girlfriends crowded around her to hear about her visit to Murphy’s office.
“WOW! 200 lines! Poor Tiff!” her friend remarked sympathetically.
Tiffany giggled, “Yes it was, but Murphy gave Dave 6 of the best with the paddle for stealing the exam paper!”
The girls giggled in delight as Tiffany gave them the details of her boyfriend’s painful paddling.

The girls tittered and dispersed when a red-faced David arrived.
“AW! You just had to tell them about my paddling didn’t you Tiff?” he moaned.
Tiffany flashed him that impish smile “Of course I did sweetie….and how is your poor littler tushie – pretty sore I’ll bet?”
David winced “Actually it feels like I sat on a hot griddle. Sitting in class is excruciating. Good thing  I have gym this afternoon.” He replied.
Tiffany pecked his cheek again “You better not be squirming at the movie tonight …I’ve been looking forward to see this one and you promised to stay through the whole movie this time!” she lectured, wagging a warning finger at him.
**********************************************************
Tiffany pulled away from David when he leaned to kiss her.
“How many times do I have to say sorry Tiff?” he protested.
Tiffany folded her arms and stared angrily at her boyfriend.
“You were late again , we ended up in the cheap seats and then  you squirm through the whole movie and leave before the ending!” she fumed.
David pleaded his case “But Tiffany. You know I’m always late …and ….and the movie was dumb anyway!” he blurted.
His comments only served to intensify his girlfriend’s fury , and without warning she took a firm hold of his ear and tweaked it hard.
“AWWW! TIFF…STOPPIT!” he yelled.
“That’s it David Welks! I’ve had it with you…. if we’re going to keep dating there are going to have be some changes in your attitude ……. do you understand?” Tiffany asked giving his ear another tweak.
“Yes Ma’am!” David howled.

Tiffany was pleasantly surprised that David had referred to her as Ma’am.
She could already feel the power pump through her veins .
Again , she reflected on David’s paddling earlier in the day.
Not only had she thoroughly enjoyed it, but yearned for an opportunity to  wallop David’s cute bottom herself !
With his poor behavior on their date, he had presented her the opportunity and she  was determined to test the waters. 
With his ear still firmly in her grip, Tiffany opened the front door and hauled David inside her house.

“Ouch….aaah… Tiff….what are you doing?” David whined.
Tiffany released his ear and began rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.
“My parent’s won’t be back for another hour so that will leave me  lots of time to deal with you David Welks !” She declared confidently.
David rubbed his ear.
“Deal with me? What are you talking about Tiff? ” he asked curiously.
Placing a dining room chair in the middle of the room, Tiffany sat down on it. Hiking her dress up to reveal her tanned thighs , she patted her lap.
“Drop those jeans and get over my lap !.” She ordered in a firm voice.
David’s jaw dropped.
“WHAAAT? You’re joking right?” he asked nervously.

Tiffany assured him she was deadly serious and repeated her command.
“You’d best get used to it Dave, because from now on this is what you’re going to get when you step out of line. 
So , if you’re serious about our relationship, you’ll get over my lap and accept the spanking you deserve!
If not…there’s the door!” she informed him.

The ultimatum took David by surprise and he paused for a moment , thoughts warring in his mind.
“Well?” Tiffany asked looking into his eyes.
David hesitated and gazed at his girlfriend’s awaiting lap.
It was so inviting David decided to comply , expecting to receive a few playful swats , and afterwards…..who knows?
So David lowered his jeans .
“Those too!” Tiffany snapped pointing to David’s briefs.
“AW TIFF…no…not on the bare…..come on !.” He protested.
“All your spankings will be on the bare ,  so get them down and get over my lap.” Tiffany insisted.
Trying to hide his exposure, David quickly whisked down his briefs and crawled over Tiffany’s lap.
***
Obviously David was as excited about this as she was.

She hoisted the back of his t-shirt up to get a good view of his bare buttocks for the first time.
She liked what she saw.
David’s cheeks were still red and slightly bruised from his earlier paddling.
Small blisters had formed in the area where his buttocks met the tops of his thighs.
Tiffany was impressed by Mrs. Murphy’s accuracy and decided she would concentrate on the same area.

Unsure how to proceed , she raised her hand and began slapping one cheek and then the other , trying to find a rythym.
The release and feeling of power felt good , and she was buoyed by her boyfriend’s reaction when  he yelped and squirmed on her lap.
This was not the playful event he had expected.
Feeling confident now ,Tiffany spanked faster and harder, turning David’s cheeks a blazing red.
She had not expected the results to be so satisfying ,and had to take a firm hold of David’s waist as he bucked and bounced on her lap to avoid the blows.

All the time she felt his erection rubbing against the soft skin of her inner thighs so she opened her legs slightly.
Tiffany’s hand was stinging now, so she could only imagine how her boyfriend’s already tender backside must feel.
David resorted to pleading and apologizing to end the spanking.
“AW TIFF PLEEEASE STOPPIT!  I’M SOOORY!” he begged, his legs kicking wildly.

Having lost all track of time, Tiffany did not even hear her parents’ car pull into the driveway as she heartily spanked her man.
The Brennan’s looked at each other in disbelief at the front door ,  listening to the distinctive noises emanating from their front room.
Tina Brennan stepped up to the window and peeked in.
“WOW! Looks like my girl is a chip off the old block!” she exclaimed proudly.
 Her husband Jack peeked over his wife’s shoulder and his jaw dropped at the sight.
“Holy Cow! She sure has inherited your tennis swing Tina !” he agreed.

Tactfully, the Brennan’s decided to return to their car, and drove around the block ,  returning 10 minutes later.
When they noisily put their key in the door , an out of breath Tiffany met them with a nervous smile.
She was positively beaming, but behind her stood a sorry looking David, his hair a mess, his face red and eyes watering.
Trying hard to compose himself he greeted the Brennans’ with a forced smile.
Tina tried not to chuckle and invited the young man to stay for coffee.
“Thanks …..but I really have to go Mrs. Brennan.” David replied and hurriedly made his exit.

Tiffany looked poised and confident.
“How was the movie dear?” her Mother asked.
“To be honest Dave was a bit of a jerk and kind of ruined it for me.” She replied.
“He sure looks  sorry…” Jack Brennan observed with a grin.
“Oh he certainly is Dad…he’s very sorry….” Tiffany chuckled and said goodnight.
“Looks like that relationship is off to a good start!” Tina observed.

To make it up to Tiffany , David invited her for a romantic picnic in the woods.
It was a wonderful warm summer day and they managed to find a quiet , private area by the lake .
The pair , stripped down to their swimsuits and frolicked in the lake together .
Afterwards , the young couple sprawled on a blanket and melted into each others arms .
***

However , she was careful to stop him before he ventured too far.
She was clearly in charge of their relationship now and needed to show it in every aspect.
The pair had been dating for a month now but , to David’s frustration ,  it had not advanced beyond necking and petting sessions.
Tiffany also had David at a disadvantage , having given him a fiery bare-bottomed spanking which neither of them could forget.
The spanking had sparked the flames of desire in both of them , but unfortunately Tiffany’s parents arrived before they could act.

 “Its so romantic of you to take me on this nice picnic Dave. 
You’ve been really thoughtful and considerate lately…..it’s amazing what a good old fashioned spanking will do  isn’t it …” she giggled.
Dave rubbed the seat of his swimsuit but could not disagree.
“I had that coming Tiff…” 
Although she was happy with the improvement in her boyfriend’s behavior , Tiffany longed to give him another steamy spanking.
She cuddled closer but this time David pulled away when his Blackberry rang loudly.
He picked it up, without excusing himself and began pounding on the keys.
‘SPLASH!” 
In an instant, Tiffany had ripped it from him and lobbed it into the lake.
“WHAAT THE!!!!  TIFF!….ARE YOU CRAZY ? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I PAID FOR THAT?” he yelled angrily.
Tiffany took hold of his earlobe and tugged it.
“Not as much as you’re going to pay mister!” she scolded.

Tiffany stood up and led David into the woods by the ear.
Luckily for him the area was isolated so no one could witness his humiliating march.
When they reached a clearing Tiffany released her grip and stood  angrily before David, hands on her hips.
He could not take his eyes off her.
***
“Go fetch me 3 or 4 nice long switches ….and make it fast!” she yelled .
“Sw…Switches ? What for?” David asked.
 “What do you think? They’re to teach you some manners mister! I’m going to  give you a good bare bottom switching -Now get going !” 

David had learned it was useless to argue with Tiffany , so trudged off to cut some switches.
Tiffany carefully examined each one , making them whistle as she swished them through the air , while David looked on anxiously.
She selected one and sat down on a nearby log , placing the others on the ground beside her.
The rough bark pressed against the bare skin of her bottom , exposed by her tiny bikini .
It was a bit uncomfortable but she loved the ‘over the knee’ position so was willing to endure it.
“Bare your butt and get across my lap!” she barked , looking up at David.
She watched eagerly as David skinned down his still wet swimsuit.
His erection quickly stood to attention before he sprawled over Tiffany’s bronzed lap.
This time Tiffany opened her legs slightly to allow his burgeoning member to slide between , and then clamped them tightly.
It felt great , and was a fine way to make sure her man stayed in place for his thrashing !

A week had passed since David’s spanking so his skin had recovered and returned to its normal hue.
Even so , Tiffany could not resist rubbing her palms over his firm buttocks and giving them a cheeky slap and a pinch.
David’s cheeks clenched and she felt his hardness between her thighs.
Expertly , she adjusted his position to raise his backside higher to take full advantage of her tennis swing style.

David had no idea what to expect so gritted his teeth and took a firm grip on Tiffany’s ankle.
Before commencing , she delivered an ominous warning.
“If you thought that paddling and spanking was bad , just wait until you feel this mister.
You’re going to be reminded of your bad manners every time you sit for the next week!”

She was absolutely right !
Tiffany swung the switch  , snapping it against David’s bare skin again and again.
The sting was surprisingly intense and Tiffany was able to lash it across his skin at a rapid-fire pace.
Angry , red lines soon criss-crossed every inch of David’s backside as Tiffany proceeded to gave her man the thrashing of his life !
During the 10 minute session , she went through all of the four switches David had given her , breaking each of them on his tortured backside.

When Tiffany finally released him ,David leapt to his feet.
His rear felt like it had been attacked by a swarm of bees , so he clutched both cheeks and danced uncontrollably around , hopping from foot to foot.
He looked ridiculous and Tiffany cackled loudly as she  sat back and took in his antics.
“GAWD TIFF!! ITS NOT FUNNY ….IT STINGS LIKE CRAZY!” He complained.
Tiffany stood up and brushed the bark off the seat of her swimsuit.
The spanking had made her hot and turned on.
She threw herself into David’s arms , clamping her legs around his waist , and kissing him aggressively.
Overcoming his initial surprise , David quickly reciprocated by taking a firm hold of his girlfriends round globes.
***

Just as their lusty passion was escalating , they heard voices and footsteps approaching .
They were able to disengage just when the other couple arrived.
“Tiff and Dave !
What are you two doing back here?
We’ve been looking all over for you .” Tiffany’s friend Jennifer said.
Jennifer’s boyfriend , Simon grinned broadly as he eyed the pair.
“Looks like you two were into it hot and heavy….sorry to interrupt…”
Tiffany and David tried to hide their disappointment.
“Best get back to our picnic before the ants take it all!” Tiffany said nonchalantly.

Back at college on Monday , Tiffany enjoyed teasing David about the switching she had given him.
His backside still bore some of the marks of the switch.
“I’ll bet you were just being rude to give me another excuse to put your bare butt over my lap again……” she asked
David frowned.
“Well……maybe…..but its too bad your friends showed up just as we were getting into it….” David replied.
“Getting into what David Welks?” Tiffany teased , 
“If you really want to finish what we started ,  why don’t you meet me behind the bleachers at 2…..I have a free period…”
David licked his lips at the prospect but sighed.
“I can’t afford to skip class again Tiffany …even for that….if Murphy catches me she’ll really lay it on me.”  
Tiffany pouted and batted her eyes.
“Well I guess if you don’t really want to…..”

Tiffany leaned against the bleachers and looked at her watch.
It was 2.15.
“That chicken….he’s not going to show…” she muttered.
Then she heard a rustling from behind a nearby bush and David emerged moving stealthily toward her.
“Your 15 minutes late…you know what that means Mr. Welks…” Tiffany warned him with a giggle.
“Aw no Tiff…not another spanking…not here…” David whispered.
Tiffany pulled him closer and kissed him.
“OK then …..but I will be dealing  with you later you naughty boy…” she purred.

The lovers had no trouble resuming where they had left off on the weekend – until the next interruption.
“Both of you-in my office NOW!”, a familiar voice bellowed.
Mrs. Murphy knew all about the activities behind the bleachers and had a good view from her office window.
“So what do you two have to say for yourselves this time!” an exasperated Mrs. Murphy asked , her arms folded.
Before Tiffany could speak , David stepped forward.
“It’s all my fault Ma’am…I asked Tiffany to meet me 
She didn’t do anything wrong …she was on free time anyway…” he explained.
Tiffany was impressed by David’s new sense of chivalry and flashed him a thankful glance.
“Is this true Tiffany?” Mrs. Murphy asked.
Hesitating for a moment , Tiffany looked at David before answering.
He mouthed a ‘yes’ to her .
“Yes Ma’am….I told him we’d be in trouble if we were caught but he wouldn’t listen.”
David’s mouth was agape and he glared at Tiffany in amazement.
He didn’t expect Tiffany to say anything more than a yes !

Mrs. Murphy opened her desk drawer and this time produced a large wooden hairbrush.
David gulped and Tiffany smiled.
“I warned you what would happen if you were back in my office again didn’t I Mr. Welks ?
You can go Tiffany. I need to deal with Mr.Welks in private .” She said before casting her gaze toward a nervous looking David.
“This time it will be long , hard and on the bare bottom young man !
Lower your trousers and underwear and get over my lap.”
“B..B…But Ma’am….” David’s lip was trembling.
“I said bare your backside and get across my knee young man !” Mrs. Murphy warned , settling into her chair.
“On your way Tiffany !” the Vice-Principal said.
“Pardon me Mrs. Murphy…..but as I was the one David was getting into trouble , don’t you think it would be appropriate for me to witness his punishment ?…..I do have a free period at the moment …” Tiffany argued persuasively.
A mischieveous grin spread across the older woman’s face as she contemplated Tiffany’s proposal.
“I believe you are correct Tiffany…..be seated ….be quiet and observe.” Came the reply.
Tiffany winked at a stunned David and took her ringside seat on the other side of the room.

Doing his best to preserve his remaining modesty , David lowered his garments and slid over Mrs. Murphy’s firm lap.
“My..my…someone did a thorough job !” Mrs. Murphy declared when she observed the fading , but still visible red stripes from the switching which still adorned David’s cheeks.
She nodded at Tiffany who could only shrug and smile.
Mrs. Murphy shook her head and chuckled.

Tiffany watched in awe as Mrs. Murphy proceeded to really blister David’s bare backside with the hairbrush.
The instrument was delivered in a measured series of 8 powerful swats at a time until his skin was a  blazing red .
She then began the spanking in earnest , peppering every area of David’s butt with the hairbrush no-stop.
Poor David was bawling like a baby , bucking and squirming on Mrs Murphy’s lap in a vain attempt to avoid the raining spanks.
Tiffany watched in awe as  the color in her boyfriend’s cheeks deepened and  blisters began to form on both of his buns.
With a final flurry of blows the spanking was brought to an end.
David lay on the V.P.s lap sobbing and moaning uncontrollably.
Whe he slowly rose to his feet is face clearly showed the effects of his orderal.
“As you will find sitting to  be impossible , you are excused from class until tomorrow Mr. Welks…you are both excused!” Mrs. Murphy announced.
While David hobbled away , Mrs Murphy turned to return the hairbrush back to her desk but hesitated.
Instead , she held it out to Tiffany .
“If you are going to reform that young man of yours , you may need this “ the older woman said.
Tiffany gratefully took the implement and placed it in her bag.
“Thanks for the lesson Mrs. Murphy.”

Tiffany observed David limping out of the VP’s office.
In an attempt to console her thoroughly humiliated boyfriend , Tiffany  took his hand  and pulled him close to her.
“That was very gallant of you Dave…..taking that spanking for me….and you did get the afternoon off…just like me !” she winked.
David was too sore to reply and simply moaned .
***
The suggestion momentarily moved David’s thoughts away from his throbbing backside , and he and Tiffany scurried off down the hallway.

It was an uncomfortable , but thankfully short car ride for David to Tiffany’s house.
Their passion at breaking point , the young couple scrambled out of the car and hurried inside.
Their lips locked in a breathless kiss and they only paused so Tiffany could help David pull his t-shirt over his head.
It was only when David was hurriedly undoing the buttons on Tiffany’s shirt when they both heard the noises.
Both of them paused and were rendered into silence while they listened.
‘WHAP!’ ‘THWAAP!’ ‘WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’
“OOW!” “YEOOW!” “AAAAH!” “I’M SORRY HONEY…I’M SORRY!”
“Stop squirming Jack….you’ve had this coming for weeks – now you’re gonna get it !”
WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’ ‘WHAP!’
“OUCH!” “YEOW!” “STOPPIT HONEY! GAWD PLEASE!”
David stared at Tiffany in stunned silence.
The voices were coming from the kitchen and were clearly those of Tiffany’s parents , Jack and Tina. !
Tiffany chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

Cautiously , she peered around the corner into the kitchen.
“Wow! Dad’s getting a real walloping …..I wonder what he did this time!” she whispered .
Deminunative blonde Tina , was sitting imperiously on a chair in the middle of the room with the muscular Jack draped over her lap.
Jack’s suit jacket lay on the floor and his pants and jockeys were banded around his ankles.
Tina was swinging a large wooden spoon with a vengeance and cracking it against her husband’s bare rump and judging by the state of his behind this activity had been going on for a while.

David nervously took a look, trying to drink in the scene.
Tiffany shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with disappointment.
Their moment of truth would have to wait until another time.
Just then the spanking stopped and only Jack’s groans and moans were audible.
David knew exactly how he felt.
However , the moans of pain quickly  morphed into moans of pleasure and were joined by howls of joy from Tina.
“Sorry Dave we should go …..I er..think my parents need some …” Tiffany stated , ushering David outside.

“How long has your Mom been spanking your Dad?” Dave asked as the pair walked home hand in hand.
“Oh my goodness …..for years….she spanked him on their first date for being late and has been doing it ever since !
Mom told me that all men love a strong woman who will keep them in line when they need it.
Apparently its very therapeutic!” Tiffany explained.
“Seems like they both get some fun out of it afterwards though!” David chuckled.
Pausing outside David’s house , they held hands and looked into each others’ eyes.
“You’d best get some ice on that butt of yours Dave ..….Murphy really blistered it good …and I want to make sure your recovered for the weekend.. if the offer is still there , I thought we could spend it at your parents cottage?”
David’s face lit up .
“Really!” he replied excitedly.
Tiffany nodded.

The pure excitement of spending a weekend at the cottage alone with Tiffany  had an effect on Dave’s driving , inspiring him to arrive there in record time.
It was the first time he and Tiffany could be alone overnight.
The weather was perfect , so Tiffany quickly changed into her skimpy red bikini she had bought especially for the occasion .
David changed onto his suit also and was thrilled when Tiffany rolled over and asked him to oil up her back.
“Undo my top honey…..I don’t want lines in my tan.” Tiffany cooed.
Dave felt his erection rise as he unleashed Tiffany’s pert breasts from the bikini top.
She still had not given him permission to touch or feel , them but he expected she would soon.
David’s temperature began to rise when Tiffany raised her firm, round bottom and permitted him to undo the strings on her bikini.

Carefully he slipped the tiny garment away to reveal his girlfriend’s curvaceous derierre in all its glory.
Her snow white skin in the area covered by the bikini contrasted with the  deep tan of the area surrounding it. 
Tiffany allowed his fingers to massage the oil on her glorious twin globes.
Sensing her boyfriend’s excitement , Tiffany grinned mischieviously .
He was putty in her hands now.
“Whow Big boy…..not so fast…we have business to attend to first!” she warned when Dave’s hands began to wander deeper into previously unexplored areas.
David’s passion had rendered him unable to respond to his girlfriend’s command and he kissed the nape of her neck while fondling both her firm breasts.
Tiffany rose up and slapped both of his hands away.
“You’re not listening again dear…..I said we had unfinished business didn’t I ?
Stop that at once and go look in my bag…there should be a nice big wooden hairbrush in there !” Tiffany ordered.

David’s jaw dropped and his heart pounded nervously.
He hoped the brush was for Tiffany’s hair but reality told him otherwise.
Rummaging in Tiffany’s bag , David had no difficulty finding the large implement , and he immediately noticed it was the very same one that Mrs. Murphy had used to blister his butt earlier that week.
“Just place it on the table beside the bed David ….I’ll need it later.” She added.
David gulped and examined the brush .
“Er….need it for what Tiff ?” he enquired nervously.
“Don’t be silly Dave….you know what its for !
You were late again this morning and then drove like a maniac on the way up here!” she said calmly.
David gulped again and reflected on his last experience with the brush.
“You not  going to sp……spank me with this Tiff ?” he asked .
Tiffany looked up at him  sternly .
“ After I’ve finished tanning my butt…..I’m going to tan yours…!” she giggled.

Dave was on pins and needles all day , knowing he was in for a spanking but no idea when Tiffany would ‘strike’.
Each time he walked past the bedroom the sight of the brush sitting there reminded him of his pending fate.
Despite this , he and Tiffany had a fantastic day together , boating , fishing  and frolicking in the lake .
As the sun began to fade the pair snuggled together on the beach and it wasn’t long before their lips met and throes of passion returned.
Their bodies rolled and thrashed about in the soft sand and David felt Tiffany’s fingers slip inside his suit , easing it down over his slim hips.
Kicking the garment off , David straddled Tiffany and fumbled to undo her bikini bottom.
It was then he heard a loud whack and felt a sharp sting in his left buttock .
Before he could cry out Tiffany had landed another pair of sharp whacks to the same area.
“I like my man to have a nice hot butt before the finale Dave…” Tiffany purred and whacked her boyfriend’s  bare butt yet again.
“OUCH THAT STINGS TIFF !” David howled as she began briskly spanking him again and again.
“Get over my knee mister….I’ll finish your warm up right here on the beach before you get your session with the hairbrush !” Tiffany demanded.

Pushing David back , Tiffany sat up and patted her lap.
“Come on…get over …” she said.
David looked around nervously.
The people in the cottage across the lake were still outside enjoying the sunset.
“Tiff….the neighbors…they’ll see….can we go inside.
Tiffany rose an angry eyebrow in response and patted her lap.
“Get over or I’ll use my sandal !” she threatened.
David assumed what was becoming a familiar position across his girlfriend’s lap.
“Good boy!” Tiffany remarked , patting his muscular cheeks.

The sound of palm striking bottom echoed loudly across the lake.
“OMIGOSH! Mildred….have a look !” Harold Smith gasped , observing the scene on the beach with his binoculars from his vantage point on the dock.
Mildred grabbed the glasses from her husband and chuckled loudly after taking a look.
“Give it to him girl!” she whooped.
Tiffany paused to raise a hand to recognize Mildred’s encouragement .
The light was fading but David’s bottom was truly glowing.
She delivered a trio of stinging spanks that had her boyfriend yelping.
“OK you can get up Dave….its time to get serious with the hairbrush.” She declared.
“AW TIFF..” David whined.

David examined his backside in the bedroom mirror as he waited for Tiffany.
It was red and stung like crazy but it seemed to tingle even more each time he looked at the hairbrush sitting on the dresser.
Following his girlfriend’s direction he stood there naked while she took a shower.
It was only a matter of minutes ,  but the waiting was agony for him.
Finally Tiffany emerged and David’s eyes lit up at the vison.
She wore the tiniest of black , sheer Teddies ***.
Matching sheer panties completed the outfit.

Striding confidently over to her chair , Tiffany sat down and picked up the hairbrush.
“This will be a serious spanking David.
I will not tolerate your chronic lateness and you could have had us both killed the way you drove this morning.
Do you have anything to say for yourself before we begin?” 
***
“Hmmm…I’ll deal with that later …” Tiffany observed with interest.
***
David’s bottom was still pink from the spanking on the beach and Tiffany patted it playfully with her palm.
“You will receive 15 swats for being late , 30 for driving dangerously and 5 for good measure.
You will count out and thank me for each one….is that understood David?”
“Yes Ma’am!” came his prompt reply.

Tiffany took a firm hold of the brush and raised it high to apply the first swat but was distracted by noises coming from the open window nearby.
‘WHAP!’ WHAP!’ WHAP!’ WHAP!’ WHAP!’
“OOOW!” OUCH!” “YEOOW!”
Tiffany smiled and shook her head.
Across the lake at the Smith’s , a sound spanking was already underway!
“Keep still and stop squirming Harold ! You’ve had this coming for years and now you’re getting’ it…” Mildred scolded. 
WHAP!’ WHAP!’ WHAP!
 “OOOWIE !” “AIYEOOW!”
Tiffany was inspired and set about her task.

She wanted this spanking to have a formality to it in order to teach her man respect .
Although it limited the amount of spanks , she knew that 50 well delivered swats with the brush would be more than enough to remind David of his behavior each time he sat down for the next few days.
WHAP!’
“OW! ONE….THANK YOU MA’AM”
WHAP!’
“OUCH ! TWO….THANK YOU MA’AM”
David followed protocol but by the time Tiffany was half way through his voice had a distinctive quiver.
WHAAAP!’
“GAAAH! TH..THI..THIR-TY….TH…THANK YOU…. M..MA’AM”
Tears welled in David’s eyes and he struggled to stay in place.
Tell tale blisters were already forming on both his cheeks and his skin felt like it was on fire.
Tiffany continued resolutely until the 50th swat connected.
Exhausted , David lay prone on her lap moaning and catching his breath.
***

“You may get up now David.” Tiffany said in a firm but sympathetic voice.
David rose slowly , clutching both of his cheeks to sooth the burning.
***
***
The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived and David grasped it enthusiastically.
***
Their screams of ecstacy echoed across the lake until they collapsed into each others arms.

Across the lake at the Smith’s , Harold paused upon hearing the younger couple’s howls of passion.
***
***

Their relationship cemented and the rules set , Tiffany and David finished their last year of college together.
On their graduation Mrs. Murphy congratulated David for staying out of her office for the rest of the year , and winked at Tiffany.
She was confident that the improvement in David’s behavior was likely due to regular doses of the hairbrush she had given her young prodigy .
Of course she was absolutely right !
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanked in his Panties

Readers,
I am happy to be able to share a few photos from some recent play with one of my very favorite boys – with his permission, naturally.


We had great fun with role-play and it is my studied opinion that he has one of the cutest polka-dot panty-covered bottoms I’ve ever seen. 


It was almost a shame to punish him when I ‘found him playing dress up in some of my finest lingerie’.  Almost.    – Dana

“Spanked

While I thoroughly enjoyed having him across my lap, he just looked so darn pretty on that spanking horse. 

“Dana

Of course, I also took the time to explain to him that wearing stockings without a proper garter just wouldn’t do (so I took mine off and loaned it to him).

“f/m

A nicely-warmed bottom. (I don’t think that I ever did take those panties off him…they were so pretty, I just worked around them.)
“F/M
A few words from him:
I still can’t really describe how incredible our session was for me. You managed to keep a perfect balance between increasing my excitement level and increasing my punishment. I wanted it to just keep going on. And every increase in my excitement made me want to present myself for more severe punishment. It was an absolutely delicious cycle. 


Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Video: Officer Naughty paddles him hard!

Sometimes Officer Naughty, the Spanking Court Bailiff (that’s me), helps carry out the Court’s sentencing. 
In this case, the defendant is sentenced to 100 whacks with a heavy wooden paddle. Number 100 looks like it’s going to hurt a bit…

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Words from the Wonderful Wife (and photos!)

I was tickled to receive this feedback from the Wonderful Wife of The Very Bad Boy. She is quite a formidable disciplinarian herself, and I am complimented by her trust.   
As is customary with this delightful couple, we videotaped the session for their private use and they are kind enough to allow me to share a few select, discreet screenshots. My gratitude to them both.      -Dana

“Dana


We had a wonderful time with Dana the other day.  The VBB is a glutton for punishment and we enjoyed every minute of play.  I had a lot of fun learning new techniques and can’t wait to use them on him.    Even though this was our first time playing together I was not nervous at all and knew we would have an enjoyable experience from beginning to end. Dana did a wonderful job at making me feel comfortable and introduced me to some different implements which I had not tried before. I think I am going to invest in some different implements soon; I definitely liked some of the leather straps we used. I especially liked the results we achieved when we used them. 

“Dana

She also helped me perfect my canning techniques, which he genuinely does not like, but I will definitely enjoy using my new found skills. The fiberglass canes were a joy to use, so easy to swing and I liked the effect it had on him. 

“Dana

 I really enjoyed double tagging the VBB; it worked out great and caught him by surprise. The “little red hairbrush” was a highlight of our visit and he did not expect the results that she was able to achieve. I think he will think twice before he gives her any more gag gifts.  Dana is a wonderful disciplinarian and a great mentor. Thanks for a great time, I can’t wait for the next time we are able to double tag the VBB.  

“Dana

The Wife 

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Links and Thanks to Spanking Fellows



Thanks to Prefectdt at SpankedHorticII for awarding my Spanking Pop Art Photo his “first, deliberate Saturday Swishing”, his “..pick of the week from images posted on the blogs in the rolls of this blog.”   Check out his excellent content, humor, and well-chosen links.


Thanks also to Red at Consensual Spanking for his kind review and link. He’s another genuine spanking enthusiast with regular content and interesting opinions.


Spanked Angel wrote a lovely entry on my recent ‘Person Place and Thing’ Writing contest – and even penned a lovely prose (in about five minutes!). Angel writes beautifully and her blog is certainly worth a nice, long look.




Here’s an artsy F/F Spanking Video, made somehow insanely erotic because it’s entirely in slow motion:


(Linked to Vimeo.com original posting.)
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New Contest: ‘The Story of Us’

         +         =
                         Dana Kane                                                                     You  
‘ The Story of…Us ‘
____________________



Welcome to the new Spanking Story Contest for July 2011. This one should be a lot of fun..
 
In previous contests, I’ve asked you to write about your own past experiences, your spanking preferences, and about a couple of perfect strangers. This time, I’d like for you to write about…

US.
 

(And win yourself a free Spanking Session with me, Dana Kane.)
 
***
 
Feel free to stage your story in any place, and at any time past or future. Add as many or as few ancillary characters as you’d like. Make it a comedy, a drama, or submit it in the form of song, verse, or picture story – so long as it’s a Fictional Story of spanking, discipline, or punishment. (And don’t be silly enough to try and spank me…even on paper.)
 
 
* No suggestively sexual content. Zero. With most story entries, I am happy to read and edit your saucy language. Not this time. Please do not disrespect me by including sex language in these stories.
 
*No characters under eighteen (18) years of age.

 

 
*All entries must be received within the month of July, 2011. Free Spanking Session to be awarded at my available playspace during the months of August and September, 2011. 
 
** For the first time, playmates who reside in cities which I visit during the months of August and September 2011 are also eligible to win, right along with those who are local to Los Angeles. Check travel information for applicable cities.  
I’ve also extended the redemption period from one month to two, to allow more flexibility in redeeming your Prize. **
 
If you are unable to claim the Prize due to circumstance or location, please consider entering your story as a Non-Contestant, so that whomever wins may enjoy the fruits of their labors, so to speak.
 
Naturally, by submitting your entry you agree to share, as all entries will be exerpted/posted here and on other publishing platforms.
 
I’m looking forward, as always, to seeing what my readers and fellow spankos do with this contest.  Good luck!     – Dana
 
 




 
 
 
 
 
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Travel Update: Chicago, Detroit, and more

Dana Kane’s Upcoming Travel Schedule:

(Click HERE often to see whether I’ll be spanking your city soon. I’ve also included a TRAVEL page in sidebar on the right-hand side of the blog.)

JULY 2011:

14-16     Chicago
17-19     Detroit

25-27     Seattle
28-29     Portland

AUGUST 2011:

 6-10      New York City

18-23     Tampa & Miami/Orlando


All dates are tentative. Planned travel to be posted 1-2 months in advance whenever possible.

If you do not see your city in my travel plans, feel free to email me. I will do my best to include your town in my future travels.

Sponsored travel to specific cities is considered on a per-request basis.

I am working fastidiously on including international travel in this year’s schedule. Tentative cities include: Toronto, Vancouver, and London, U.K.

– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The Very Bad Boy and his Wonderful Wife


Readers,

Having arrived home in Los Angeles after a fantastic visit to New York City and Boston, I am exhausted and completely high on life (and spanking!). Where to begin? 
Let’s start with one of the most fun and interesting characters in the ongoing chronicles of Dana Kane Spanks: The Very Bad Boy.

As you recall, I first dealt with The VBB when I received an inquiry from he and his Wonderful Wife regarding some well-deserved disciplining. We met in May for one of the most intense punishment sessions I’ve participated in, and his WW has the video to prove it. (I understand that his behavior has improved dramatically.)

I’m sure you understand my happiness when I received an email from the two of them requesting dual playtime on this most recent east coast visit. These two are proof that FLDD relationships can and do work, and that spanking and discipline play can be part of a healthy and normal exchange.

What follows are The Very Bad Boy’s words on our recent playtime. ..

– Dana

*****




Three Broken Implements and a Small Red Hair Brush

Spankos are often warned that fantasy is often better than reality, but sometimes reality is far greater than fantasy.  What I experienced last week was a reality that out shined any fantasy I could ever come up with. The last time I had the privilege of seeing Ms. Kane was back in May when my wife left me in her capable hands for a very serious punishment session. At the end of our session I mentioned that my wife would be interested in getting together to play the next time she visited the City. Not in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned the reality that was in store for me when my wife and I went to see Ms. Kane this last week. While this meeting was more about playing than punishment I did manage to get myself into a bit of trouble before our visit. All I will say about that is it was not a wise idea on my part to read the e-mails between my wife and Ms. Kane especially after I was told I not to read them.  
I learned two important lessons during this last visit:  first, carefully consider the ramifications of making any smart ass comments while positioned across a spanking bench (or in any position for that matter) and secondly, never challenge Ms. Kane to see if she can indeed break an implement across your bottom.  Unfortunately, being somewhat slow on the uptake it took me a while to learn those lessons, which of course resulted in numerous painful consequences and a few broken implements. The last time we were together Ms. Kane broke two implements on my bottom, so I decided to taunt her just a bit this time to see if she could break any more implements; which I now admit was a mistake on my part. The first implement she broke was the lovely large wooden spoon which she had purchased from a restaurant supply store before her trip. She set out to prove she could break the spoon and would not stop until it was broken. There was no sweeter sound that day than the sound of the spoon finally breaking; I was secretly praying that blasted spoon would break before I broke. The second implement she broke was a small thin paddle which actually stung a lot, so I was quite happy when it finally broke. Not to be left out my wife proceeded to break one of Ms. Kane’s new rattan canes across my swollen butt, which by the way I now have to replace, because somehow “I” was responsible for breaking one of her new canes. Despite my ardent aversion to canes Ms. Kane brought along a number of those wretched implements to include a very thin and whippy fiberglass cane. This small thin fiberglass cane is the most fiendish cane I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. While all canes strike with an unpleasant stinging this little evil cane produces a very localized harsh sting, very similar to a bee sting. It did not take me very long to learn to loathe that cane and to flinch every time Ms. Kane picked it up.
On the way to our appointment with Ms. Kane we stopped by Jakes .99 cent store where I bought a small red plastic hairbrush about 4 or 5 inches long which I gave to Ms. Kane as a gage gift. She laughed when I gave it to her and said we will use this later and she placed it on the table with rest of her implements. I forgot about the little red hairbrush until she picked it up after we had been playing for about an hour. By that time my bottom was pretty sore and I had some good bruises developing. Ms. Kane brought the little red hairbrush over and I laughed when she told me she was going to use it, I thought there was no way this little hairbrush was going to hurt at all. Well I was completely mistaken; she found a very tender and swollen spot on my thigh and proceeded to slap that spot over and over again. I could not believe how much it hurt and before long I was howling in pain. Somehow both my wife and Ms. Kane found this to be very amusing but I found it to be extremely painful. So I learned another lesson that day, never underestimate what Ms. Kane can do with any implement. Next time I think I will bring a plastic straw instead of a small plastic hairbrush.
Over all this session was beyond my wildest imagination. Although this was the first time my wife and Ms. Kane played together they were in perfect harmony as though they have played together for years. They certainly made a formidable team. I expected a tag team approach with each one taking turns but they actually doubled team me, with my wife on one side and Ms. Kane on the other and they easily fell into perfect rhythm as they applied their skills. Both Ms. Kane and my wife were cognitive of my high pain tolerance and they could sense when I needed a break or when I started to become distressed. They provided plenty of breaks and before beginning again made sure I was both emotionally and physically ready to continue playing. Even though the session was intense I never had to worry that either Ms. Kane or my wife would cross the line into unsafe play or push me beyond what I could handle.
I am grateful to Ms. Kane for the time she took with my wife to help her develop some new skills and to become more confident as a disciplinarian. Although she could have skipped the lessons on using the cane, as my wife is now anxious to try out her new found caning skills. We look forward to the next time we can get together to play, hopefully Ms. Kane will leave her collection of canes behind and we can concentrate on breaking wooden paddles. I wonder if they can break four implements in a single session?

(I’ve added this photo in it’s smallest thumbnail, since the subject matter is somewhat severe. Click to enlarge if you’d care to view a larger image.  – Dana)
“VBB

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Japanese television Spanking demonstration



I do not often cross-post media, but thought that this little Japanese television spanking clip was fun:    – Dana

While I have no idea which words are actually being used, it is pretty easy to get the gist of the conversation:


‘This is the proper way to spank.’
‘Ooh, that stings! May I try?’
‘Sure.’
‘Like this?’
‘Sort of. Here…let me show you again.’

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The Governess Makes a Discovery

From our UK Laureate, ‘The Governess Makes a Discovery’…and he’s up to his usual form with another amazingly written F/M spanking story. (The asterisks are my edits, for slightly sensitive content.)   – Dana


UK Laureate’s other writings:

The Ballad of Lord Hazlemere
The Blue Umbrella






The Governess Makes A Discovery


London, 1910.


Grace Bennett was nervous as she knocked on the door; she had a task to undertake that was going to be sensitive, to say the least. In over twenty years of service as a Governess in wealthy Edwardian families in the south of England she had never had to do anything like this before. But she had determined it had to be done.


Edward Carrington had been her employer for the past four years. Her primary responsibility was educating his children, Emma, aged six, and James, aged nine. A man of considerable status and means, he considered that home education was more valuable for the children than attending any of the local schools. He had considered sending James to a public boarding school, but having himself been educated by a Governess in the last quarter of the nineteenth century when education in English schools was haphazard and unregulated, he was aware of the value of a first-rate Governess. Miss Bennett was certainly that. Both he and his wife had been hugely impressed at her interview. Her experience and maturity – she was some ten years older than himself – gave her a confidence and stability that he felt would be of huge benefit to his children. This had been even more valuable for the past two years since the sudden death of his dear wife, Helen. He appreciated her willingness to take on extra duties, caring more generally for his children’s welfare in conjunction with Mrs Humphrey, the Nanny he had employed since James was born.


Miss Bennett’s nervousness was due largely to the nature of the task facing her, which required her to contravene the etiquette of Edwardian England. Although Mr Carrington was less formal than many of his contemporaries, he was nonetheless her employer. It was her place to take orders from him, and as a member of staff to execute her duties in such a way as not to cause him any inconvenience or to intrude in his affairs. She was aware she had, inadvertently, already crossed this line, and now she was about to do so deliberately.



“Come in.” Mr Carrington’s voice was clear and deliberate, and Miss Bennett made her way, closing the door behind her. “Ah, Miss Bennett. Good evening. How may I help you?”


“Good evening, Sir. I do apologise for disturbing you but I wonder if I might have a word with you. There is a rather delicate matter that I need to discuss with you.”


“I see. Not a problem with the children, I trust. You know you have my full authority to deal with them as you see fit. Do come and sit down.” Mr Carrington waved his hand in the direction of the chair to the right of the sofa. He waited until Miss Bennett was seated before sitting down himself. There was a brief, awkward silence until Miss Bennett spoke.


“Mr Carrington, I have to begin by making a confession. Yesterday afternoon I went to your study to find a book for Master James and I am afraid while I was there my inquisitiveness took over and I looked at the private papers you had left on the desk. I realise this was wrong of me and I have come to offer my apologies.”


Mr Carrington looked at her with a mixture of sternness and surprise. “I see,” he said thoughtfully, “and having had twenty-four hours to think about it, your guilt has taken over and you have come to offer your resignation. Is that the situation, Miss Bennett?”


“Well, no Sir, not exactly. I recognise of course that you may wish to dismiss me, but ….” Her words were cut off by her employer.


“Dismiss you, Miss Bennett? I don’t think that will be necessary. I am aware of the excellent tuition and guidance you offer my children. I would be hard pressed to find another Governess of your calibre. I think we can put this down as an unfortunate but temporary lapse on your part. I am confident you will not allow it to happen again.”


“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your faith in me. However, I am afraid that is not quite the whole matter.” As she spoke Miss Bennett put her hand in her pocket, pulled out a photograph, and placed it on the table in front of her employer. “Do you recognise this?”


Mr Carrington was taken aback, and for a few moments was silent, giving Miss Bennett time to place two more photographs on the table. “Or this… or this?” she asked. She had more, but there seemed no need to reveal them.


“Miss Bennett, have you taken leave of your senses? Why are you showing me these photographs? Where do they come from?” Mr Carrington’s voice now was full of irritated anger, and Miss Bennett, ever observant, noticed that his hands were shaking.


“Mr Carrington, I believe you know full well where they came from. You see I did not look only at the papers on your desk. I opened a number of the drawers and in one of them were these photographs, and many others.”


Mr Carrington leapt to his feet. “This is preposterous, woman,” he bellowed, shaking his fists. “Get out, get out.”


Miss Bennett had no intention of going anywhere, and stayed seated in her chair. Her heart was racing, but she had not yet delivered her message in full.


“Mr Carrington, calm down, I beg of you. We do not want to create a disturbance that is overheard by other staff, or indeed your children. Mr Carrington, as is plainly obvious, these photographs are pornographic, and a number of the others, which I now have in my possession, are, how shall I say, of an extreme nature. It is not for me to judge why you have them or from where you obtained them, but as an upstanding moral citizen, I must inform you that my conscience will allow me to do no other than to pass these photographs to the police. However, you have been a kind employer Mr Carrington, and I felt I owed you the respect of informing you of my discovery and of my intended action.”


Mr Carrington had been pacing the floor as Miss Bennett made her oration. She had prepared her words carefully and was pleased with how confidently she had delivered them. Her employer, however, was in a whirl. Of course he had recognised the photographs instantly, and despite his anger that a trusted member of his staff should have been prying in this way, and his concern for the possible consequences, he had, nonetheless, been able to listen to Miss Bennett’s words. He stood by the window, looking out.


“I realise, Mr Carrington, that this is a highly unpleasant matter,” Miss Bennett continued. “I felt that by informing you, you would be able to contact your solicitor prior to the visit from the constabulary that will inevitably come.”


Mr Carrington continued to stare out of the window. Eventually he turned to look at the Governess. “Miss Bennett, I greatly regret that you have made this discovery and that your opinion of me has been tarnished irrevocably, but I beg you, please do not report this matter. If this indeed becomes public my reputation will be ruined, my business will be destroyed, and what will become of all of us? You are an honourable woman and I pray you can find it in your heart, for the sake of my children if not for me, to be merciful.”


Miss Bennett watched in horror as, having delivered his appeal, the normally steadfast and composed man covered his face with his hands and started to weep. It was as though the capable and highly respected businessman and loving, responsible father had suddenly turned into a helpless, frightened boy. She rose to her feet, walked to him and touched his arm lightly. “I think you should sit down and settle yourself,” she said, quietly but firmly, and steadied his arm as he walked slowly to the sofa, where he sat, head in hands for some minutes. Miss Bennett recognised he had suffered a shock, with which his body and mind was struggling to deal.


Eventually he spoke. His voice was soft, the tone of a broken man. “Miss Bennett, I beg you again, do not report this matter. If I may speak honestly, the past two years has been a great trial for me. You may have thought that I had come to terms with the passing of my dear wife, but barely a moment has passed when she has not been in my thoughts. She was my rock, my foundation, always there for me, and it was her strength that enabled me to conduct my business, and indeed my life, successfully. In my loss I have been unable to contemplate for a moment forming an attachment with another woman,” – his voice faltered as he spoke – “these photographs were somehow a consolation. “ Again he paused. “Yet all the while I was aware that they were a betrayal of my dear Helen’s love. Clearly I would not have wanted her to know of them and if she is looking down from that other place where she now resides then I am indeed a miserable man.” Again he started to weep.


Mr Carrington dabbed his eyes with the silk handkerchief he always wore in his breast pocket. He looked up. “Miss Bennett, you are a mature and wise woman. Pray give me your counsel as to how I might be redeemed from this situation.”


All the while her employer had been speaking Grace Bennett’s mind had been active. She had entertained that he might react to her discovery with anger, or remorse, or possibly even threaten her, but she had not expected such an outpouring of emotion. The more he had spoken, the more she had recognised that her employer was, in many ways, a small boy in a man’s body. His words about the place his wife had played in his life made sense. She was well-aware what a gracious and level-headed woman Mrs Carrington had been, but she had not recognised the extent to which she had ruled the relationship with her husband. In Edwardian society women were required to take a back seat and be obedient to their husband, and outwardly the Carrington’s marriage had conformed to this expectation. The testimony she had just listened to had given her a glimpse, nay, a massive insight, into the underlying truth.


“Mr Carrington, it has grieved me to see you so distraught,” she began, “and I am well aware of the devastation to be caused by the public revelation of these photographs. I will admit to you I am two minds. It is not my wish to destroy you, yet at the same time my conscience tells me that you have sinned greatly and deserve to be punished, for without punishment there can be no redemption. By profession I am a Governess, as you are fully aware. Although I have never had children of my own I have learnt much about raising children, and the correction necessary to free them from their sinful ways. Indeed, Sir, you may recall that when I first met you and your wife, sadly departed, to be interviewed for the position I now hold, you yourself asked about my prowess with the rod. It was a matter of satisfaction to me that our views on this matter were as one. **
 Mr Carrington, it is now in my mind that, on account of actions now known to us both, you yourself, Sir, might benefit from the correction of the rod.”


For a moment Edward Carrington remained silent. On one level her statement was absurd; to suggest that he, a gentleman, be treated like a common criminal was difficult to comprehend. And was Miss Bennett, his employee, suggesting that she perform the deed, thereby inverting the relationship between them? Yet – her stated intention to inform the authorities of the photographs had to be negated at all costs.


“Miss Bennett, as you will appreciate, your suggestion is somewhat unorthodox, yet I cannot deny it has merit. Tell me, is it part of your proposal that you yourself undertake this action?”


Miss Bennett addressed her employer with a firm gaze. “Indeed, Sir, it is. As Governess of this household I consider it fitting that the boundaries of my jurisdiction are extended to include you, in order to deal with the infraction in question. “


“And may I take it that if the matter is dealt with in this way, your intention to report to the constabulary will be revoked?” Mr Carrington enquired.


Again the Governess spoke firmly. “Indeed, Sir, you may take that to be so. Justice demands that sins be punished, but to punish twice for the offence would of itself be an injustice, providing that the penalty imposed is sufficient to expiate the crime.”


“Very well, Miss Bennett. I recognise the wisdom and fairness of your words, and I submit to your proposal.” The now calm, measured tone of Edward Carrington’s voice told Miss Bennett what she wanted to hear. “How do you propose that this matter is executed?”


“I will need time to make some arrangements,” Miss Bennett replied. “I must warn you that the punishment will be, by a distance, the most severe I have ever administered. Accordingly, I must arrange for the house to be empty, save you and me. And my proviso, Sir, is that the application of the rod is in accordance with the traditions I require of all my charges on such occasions. You will be addressed by your Christian name. You will be required to confess your wrongdoing and to request appropriate punishment. You will be required to lower your breeches in order to be beaten on naked flesh. At the conclusion of the punishment, or of each section of the punishment, you will be required to thank me for my attention to your welfare. I trust that is all clear.”


Even Miss Bennett herself was taken aback by the clarity and severity with which she had issued the instructions, given the circumstances.


Mr Carrington nodded. “I understand,” he confirmed.


“I suggest, Sir, that I speak with you again in the morning, when I hope to have news of suitable arrangements having been made. Unless there is anything else, I will bid you goodnight.”


Back in her room, the Governess reflected on the situation. The discovery of the photographs, itself wholly unexpected, had given rise to another equally unexpected discovery about her employer. What is it about little boys, she mused, that they are incapable of living without female guidance? Even when they are older in years, what is it that necessitates their regression to boyhood traits? She did not have the answer to these questions, only the assurance of their truth and a conviction of the necessity of regular correction to facilitate their journey through life.


The next morning, having spoken to Mrs Humphrey, she went again to see Mr Carrington and informed him of the arrangements she had made. The following day, Friday, was Cook’s day off. She had informed Mrs Humphrey that she would be finishing lessons at lunchtime and suggested that Nanny should take the children to the park for a picnic and extended playtime. Mrs Humphrey had been surprised as it broke from their normal routine but had agreed. “The children have been working hard and I think some relaxation and fresh air will do them good,” Miss Bennett had said to her. Accordingly, the house would be empty.


“Mr Carrington, I have been giving further thought to the arrangements,” she continued. “It is my normal practice with the children to administer punishment in their bedrooms, but in the interests of propriety I consider such an arrangement for you would be improper. Accordingly, the punishment will take place in the study, which seems to me entirely appropriate given that is where the offending photographs were stored. The appointment will be at 2.00pm precisely. You will arrive promptly, knock on the door, and wait to be called in.”


Edward Carrington did not demur. Miss Bennett had wondered whether he might have had second thoughts about his agreement but clearly the repercussions of so doing were even less palatable to him. She had been deliberate in making arrangements for the following day, which meant he had another thirty or so hours to contemplate his thrashing. And what a thrashing she intended to give him!


As a Governess she did not take particular pleasure from corporal punishment but she was a firm believer in its efficacy. She believed too that when punishment was given it should be given soundly, in order that it made a lasting impression on the recipient. She wanted her punishments to be feared, and as with all her duties she took satisfaction from administering ‘corrective education’ with skill and professionalism.


Friday morning’s lessons passed uneventfully, for which Miss Bennett heaved a sigh of relief. She had told the children about the afternoon picnic and encouraged them to be on their best behaviour or else it would be cancelled – a circumstance she avidly wished to avoid. Once they and Nanny had left for the park she went to her room and opened the closet where her canes and other disciplinary instruments were kept. Over the years she had collected a variety of suitable instruments, in order that she could vary their use according to the severity of the punishment required.


***
***
 Through teacher friends she had acquired a couple of standard rattans, which she had used on occasions, but more normally she preferred her Governess canes, so named after their popularity with members of her profession. These rods were made from a denser species of rattan, thereby imparting a more penetrating sting. Her most well-used rod was thirty-two inches in length and of medium diameter, which meant that it retained all the flexibility that made the rattan so effective. However, on this occasion she reached for her Senior Governess, a somewhat thicker rod, four inches longer than its cousin. She had only ever used it twice, in her previous employment. As she removed it from the closet she recalled the last time it had been deployed.


***
***


Miss Bennett did not imagine that she would have a similar problem with Edward Carrington, even though she intended to increase the tariff considerably. At eight minutes before two o’clock she made her way downstairs, rod in hand. Entering the study she walked across to the desk. Quickly she cleared the few items from the top of the desk, leaving only the rod she had placed there, and rearranged a couple of chairs to ensure that she had sufficient space for the deed she was about to execute. She glanced at the clock, which showed three minutes before two. She sat down in the chair behind the desk, normally occupied by her employer, to compose her thoughts.


At precisely the appointed time there was a knock on the door. Deliberately she waited a few seconds before issuing a stern “Enter”. The door opened and Edward Carrington walked in, his head bowed.


“Come here, Edward,” Miss Bennett commanded, her voice as crisp as starched lines. “Stand in front of the desk.” She waited for him to reach the appointed spot.


“Now then Master Edward, tell me why you are here,” she ordered. For several seconds the embarrassed man remained silent. “Come along boy, speak up,” Miss Bennett demanded.


“Please Miss Bennett, I have erred greatly. I have been in possession of items that have no place in the life of a gentleman. I am truly sorry.”


“I see. Well, we shall see how truly sorry you are in due course, Edward. These items that you speak of – what is their nature?” Of course she knew exactly what they were but was determined that he should make full acknowledgement.


“P-p-pornographic photographs, Miss Bennett,” Edward stuttered.


“You naughty, filthy little boy,” Miss Bennett exploded, her tone emphasising her disgust. “How dare you! I shall not explore what other filthy things you may have been doing. The fact that you thought fit to have such wretched items in your possession is sufficient. Have you something else to say to me?” Miss Bennett looked directly at Edward, but he continued to keep his head bowed. “Look at me when you are speaking to me, boy,” she rapped.


“Please Miss Bennett, may I request you to punish me for my sins.” Edward Bennett, gentleman, businessman, highly respected in the community, had been reduced to the lowest ebb, and again he bowed his head in shame.


“Oh yes, Master Edward, oh yes, indeed I will. This is indeed the vilest crime I have encountered from a boy in all my years of being a Governess. You will be thrashed, young man, more severely than I have ever thrashed a boy before. You will be aware, no doubt, that it is the custom to administer the rod by the dozen, with the most normal tariff being half a dozen, or as it is sometimes referred to, six of the best. I have administered previously a caning of a full dozen strokes, which I considered a severe punishment. On this occasion, given the nature of your offence and the fact that you are old enough to know better, it is incumbent on me to award a fitting punishment. You will receive three dozen strokes of the rod.”


Edward Carrington allowed a gasp to escape from his lips. It was many, many years since he had last been punished in this way but even two or more decades on he recalled his suffering and the struggle to take his punishment manfully. What he had just heard was beyond his worst nightmares. However, he managed to maintain his composure sufficiently to respond, “Thank you, M’am”.


Miss Bennett rose, picking up her trusty rod from the desk as she did so. “There is nothing more to be said,” she announced tersely. “Move to the side of the desk, which you will bend over to receive your punishment, and kindly prepare yourself. “ As Edward Carrington took the few steps to the required position, Miss Bennett also moved and turned to face away from him. She waited a full minute. “Are you prepared, Edward?” she asked. Hearing an affirmative reply she issued the order to “assume the required position”.


Miss Bennett turned and walked smartly to a position on Edward’s left. Holding the rod in front of her she measured her distance, ensuring that the rod would strike correctly. She took a deep breath, gathered her concentration, raised the cane and brought it down sharply. The snap as it made contact was followed by a deep, muted grunt from the recipient. Miss Bennett silently counted to ten, as was her regular habit in these circumstances, before delivering a second stroke. A further four strokes followed in like manner.


“Have you something to say to me, Edward,” she asked. “I have always understood you to be a well-mannered boy.”


“Yes, M’am. Thank you Miss Bennett.” Edward raised his head slightly as he spoke but did not lose his position. His arms were spread either side of the desk, his hands gripping as best he could to help him deal with the pain. His bottom was burning from the sting of the rod, but, conscious of that as he was, he was mindful that his punishment had only just begun.


Miss Bennett moved to the far side of Edward. It had long been her practice to divide the tariff equally between forehand and backhand strokes. During her first employment an experienced Governess had explained to her the wisdom of this method, to ensure that both buttocks suffered the additional pain engendered by the tip of the rod. Content her position was correct, she resumed the punishment. The cane swished and snapped as she delivered the next set of six. If anything they were harder than the first set, as was often the case with her backhand strokes. Duly completed, she again reminded Edward of his manners.
“From here on in I shall not prompt you again. You will thank me after each further set of six, or bear the consequences.”


Edward’s backside was throbbing but through his pain he digested the Governess’s instruction. Miss Bennett considered the scene as she walked to resume the position in which she had started. The first twelve strokes had been delivered firmly, occasioning distinctive red weals amid the white flesh.


The second dozen strokes were given in like fashion, six from the left and six from the right. By now it was inevitable that stripes were created over stripes that already existed, increasing the pain considerably, and Edward Carrington had started to moan as the rod continued to land. He was determined to show the utmost bravery, but his determination was now being tested to what, he thought, was near his limit. Lost in his thoughts, he omitted to thank his Governess after the fourth set of six was completed. This fact was not forgotten by Miss Bennett, who had again resumed her original position.


“I fear something has been overlooked,” she announced, her tone displaying her annoyance. Before Edward had a chance to rectify the situation she raised the cane high above her shoulder and delivered a slashing stroke that made Edward cry out in severe pain. “What did you say, boy?” she thundered.


“Ah, ah, ooh… thank you M’am,” he managed to utter through his gritted teeth.


Miss Bennett was not satisfied and delivered another venomous stroke. The rod hummed loudly as it cut the air, followed immediately by another howl from Edward. “What do you say, boy? Speak up,” she again demanded.


“Thank you M’am, thank you Miss Bennett,” he called out. He was gasping for breath but managed to get the words out clearly.


“Very well, that’s better,” Miss Bennett announced. “I trust you are aware that those strokes were additional punishment for your forgetful and disobedient behaviour.”


“Yes, M’am, thank you M’am,” Edward assured her, anxious not to incur further wrath. He was sure he had never felt pain like it, and was praying that the remainder of his punishment would be less severe.


His prayers were not answered. True to her desire to ensure that punishment was administered effectively, it was always her practice to increase the severity of the strokes as the punishment neared its conclusion. Normally, when the tariff was six, this simply meant the final two strokes. Today it meant the final twelve.


Accordingly, for each of the remaining strokes she raised her arm higher, brought the rod down more sharply, and concentrated on flicking her wrist as she made the stroke. This was another technique she had been taught in her early days as a Governess, and she knew how effective it was. Its effectiveness was not lost on Edward, who yelled loudly after every collision of that wicked rod and his backside. No wonder Miss Bennett had arranged for the house to be empty; she was clearly aware what the consequence of the thrashing would be.


Finally it was over. Edward’s backside was covered with a mass of scarlet stripes and purple-red weals, many of them bloodied, but somehow Edward had remembered to express the required appreciation. But having done so the final time, the realisation that his ordeal was finished overcame him. He broke down and started to sob, quietly at first, then more loudly. Miss Bennett watched and waited impassively. It was the reaction she had hoped for. She understood the nature of sin, punishment and redemption. The suffering from the pain of the beating was a just punishment, but for redemption to take place there had to be an outpouring of emotion, as the consciousness of having paid for one’s wrongdoing took hold.


After several minutes, by which time Edward’s crying had subsided, Miss Bennett spoke. “I think you should compose yourself now, Edward, and correct your dress.” Again she turned away to allow him to make himself respectable, but continued speaking. “You have done well, Edward,” she said with genuine warmth in her voice. “I am sure you will continue to think about the events of the past days, and of today in particular, but you may now go forward knowing that your dues have been paid. Do not allow guilt to corrode your mind. Rather, learn from your mistakes. Oh, and by the way, the photographs I took from your drawer have been burnt.”


Miss Bennett began to make her way out of the room, then turned back to address Edward. “I will resume my normal Governess duties now, Mr Carrington, but should you find that young Edward requires further attention at some future time, I am available to assist.” She closed the door behind her and made her way back to her room.


Over the course of the next months and years Edward Carrington approached his Governess several times more to confess a variety of misdeeds, for which Miss Bennett offered her particular brand of assistance. Increasingly, Mr Carrington’s confessions were accompanied by a baring of his soul, knowing that the confidences he shared would be respected and rewarded with empathy and wise counsel. Thus, the professional barrier between employer and Governess was gradually broken down, and some three years after the events of this story, Grace Bennett became the second wife of Edward Carrington – in which role she continued to assist him as required.


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‘Beth’ – Original F/M Spanking Fiction



Our Cowboy Writer strikes again.

For the rest of Cowboy Writer’s stories:


Taming the Cowboy
Taming the Cowboy II: The Cowboy’s Revenge
School for Husbands
Tiffany

*****

‘Beth’

CHAPTER 1
Beth allowed herself a satisfied smile as she put away her best china and cleared the table.

Her tea party with the three ladies from the Women’s’ Guild went very well and she was confident her application would be accepted.

Membership in the developing Western town’s most influential organization for women would give her an opportunity to express her opinions on many subjects and would be the ideal conclusion to a wonderful year for the  local Schoolmistress.

She certainly had attracted attention when she arrived in town from Boston a year ago , to set up the local school. 
The attractive , tall , willowy redhead soon turned  the heads of every eligible male suitor for miles around.

However , it wasn’t long before the candidates  were weeded out .
Most were  unable to handle Beth’s confident manner , intelligence and outspoken opinions on subjects generally considered taboo for women.
Beth was no wallflower and enjoyed debating with men on many issues that other women in town never dare speak of , and she could hold her own in a good argument with any man.

To John Dillon , the muscular , handsome bachelor who owned the biggest ranch in the county ,Beth was both intriguing and a challenge.
Their courtship had been a  fiery one at times , but their true love for each other  blossomed .
After a few months of courting , the two were now husband and wife and had set up their home at John’s expansive ranch .
Having been occupied by a bachelor cowboy for some years , the place certainly  needed a woman’s touch , and Beth was glad to provide it .
Using her organizational skills  as a teacher she began to bring some order to the marital household.
John had proved to be a good , loving husband willing to accept Beth’s assertiveness and opinions but also ready to rein her in when needed. 
They were truly equals who respected and loved each other.

However , John was not without his faults , and was well known for his short temper and wild ways .
He was not known for shirking a fight , and would  use strong language to get his pointr across at times.
Since their marriage there had already been a number of occasions when these faults came to light , and Beth had made it very clear to her new husband that such behavior was not acceptable to her.
To John’s credit he did make an honest effort to correct a lifetime of bad habits when he basically was able to do as he pleased.

Beth’s moment of reflection was interrupted by  a loud commotion outside .
Peering nervously through the lace curtains in her window ,  her jaw dropped when  she saw John involved in a heated verbal altercation with the three Womens’ Guild ladies at their horse and buggy.

The china cup Beth held in her hand dropped and smashed on the floor and her initial shock turned to anger.
“Darn you John Dillon ….you’d better not mess this up for me !” she fumed out loud to herself and she rushed out to calm the situation.

Chapter 2

“What’s going on  John ?” Beth asked her Husband in a firm voice .
“Mrs. Dillon…..your Husband has used some uncalled for language towards us  I do not care to repeat. 
You should know , he also had some very uncomplimentary things to say about the Women’s’ Guild !” Mrs. Parsons , the Guild President fumed at Beth.

Beth put her hands on her hips and glared angrily at her Husband .
“Is this true John Dillon !” she asked angrily .
Sensing his wife’s fury John could only shrug his shoulders .
“Yea…. sure….I did call them a …er um ‘cackle of interfering old biddies’ …..and I did use a few cuss words…., but Beth …. they were being so uppity and rude with me … !” he tried to explain .

His response served only to enrage Beth even more.
“John Dillon …..this is just another example of that bad temper of yours which I’ve warned you  about before !  I will not stand for it ……do you understand ?
These ladies are my guests and you have no right to insult them .
Get yourself  up to the woodshed and I’ll be there shortly to deal with you !” she yelled to gasps from the ladies .

John was speechless and could barely muster  a  coherent babble upon hearing his wife’s order “ But…uh… Beth….aww…..but…”
“Don’t say you weren’t warned …Get going !” Beth lectured ,  pointing in the direction of the woodshed perched on a small hill beyond the ranch house.
His last visit there was as a boy  when he received a sound licking from his Mother.
Surely his new  wife had no intention of doing the same , but deep down he knew Beth was quite capable of doing exactly that ! 

He recalled those ‘warnings’ Beth referred to but he had not paid much attention to them at the time.
The last time was when he had lost his temper and swore at one of the young ranch-hands.
Beth had surprised him by immediately delivering a powerful slap to the seat of his denims which stung and sent up a cloud of dust.
“That’s  just a sample of what you’ll get from me if I ever hear you use language like that to those young boys !” she had warned him.
On other occasions she had told him he ‘needed  a sound  thrashing’.

John realized he should have known better .
As the local schoolteacher , she was well known for her strict discipline and many a naughty boy had realized the error of his ways after Beth applied a dose of her trusty  strap to the seat of his pants.
Now he was in the same position , and could expect the same treatment.
Red-faced  and  embarrassed , John  spun around and walked briskly to the woodshed . 

Beth turned to face Mrs. Parsons and the other ladies .
“I really do apologize for my Husband’s behavior ladies , and  be assured that after I’ve dealt with him an appropriate apology will be forthcoming .
I surely hope this incident will not affect my application ?” 

Mrs. Parsons smiled and shook Beth’s hand in admiration.
“ Of course not Mrs. Dillon…we at the WG understand that our menfolk can be somewhat unruly at times…..a little discipline would do them the world of good.
Uh….er…. may  I ask what will happen  to your husband ?” 

Beth smiled “ Of course you may  Mrs. Parsons.  He’s going to get a lesson which will remind him of his bad manners……in fact he’ll be reminded every time he sits down for the next few days !” she explained confidently.
“I’m sure you ladies would do the same to your husbands ….wouldn’t you ?” 
Mrs. Parsons and the other ladies tittered like schoolgirls .
“To be honest we haven’t tried …..but it does sound interesting “ one of them commented   “perhaps you could give us a lecture at our next meeting ?”

 “I’d be delighted toladies …. Anything to help bring some much needed civility to the men of this town . 
The way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach , but the way to his head is through the part of his anatomy which makes contact with his saddle!” Beth declared .
The women laughed heartily as they nodded agreement.

“Well we’d best be on our way and leave you to your….uh…business Mrs. Dillon” said Mrs. Parsons happily as they rode off to a friendly wave and a smile from their hostess.

Beth’s smile turned to a scowl as she spun around and made her way determinedly to the woodshed .

CHAPTER 3

Fuming , Beth flung the shed door open dramatically.
John put both hands up in an attempt o stop her advance towards  him.
“Now Beth…listen to me ….let me explain…..I know what I did was wrong …..but I’ll apologize …and I’ll make it up to you …..” he stammered.

Beth remained resolute and silent , advancing to confront her errant husband  until he had backed into a corner.
“John Dillon ,  the time for talking is over …now you’re going to get what you’ve been needing for a long , long time .” she seethed through gritted teeth.


“Now take down your britches and bend over ! “ she ordered firmly.
Her husband’s was still stunned at rge turn of events .
 “ You…you can’t be serious …Beth…..but honey …you can’t ..” John stammered .  Beth’s  reaction was a  steely determined glare into his eyes. 
“I SAID  BEND OVER !”
John  pondered  launching  another appeal but he quickly realized the right thing to do was to accept his punishment from his wife.
With a loud sigh he began undoing the buckle of his belt.
“Yes dear…” he murmered.

Beth looked around the shed and  selected some long , thin rods to serve as a switch. John  watched her nervously and gulped when she made a menacing swishing sound with each switch to test its effectiveness.
John lowered his pants to the floor and glanced warily over his shoulder before assuming the bent over position .

After finally settling on a  switch to begin John’s punishment ,  Beth walked over to her bent over husband and stood behind him to his left side.
RaisIing the tail of his shirt she carefully  placed it on his back to reveal his faded long johns.
“Get these down too……your getting this on the bare bottom husband  !” she said impatiently patting the seat of her husband’s last remaining garment.
“Awwww…geez Beth ……” John whined but  he stood up and yanked his long johns to his knees as he was told.
 He felt the cool breeze on his bare skin  when he bent over again and braced for the first stroke of the switch.

Beth teased her husband by brushing the switch across his rump , tapping it lightly.
She smiled , observing his cheeks clench in anticipation.
Then she raised the switch high above her head and it whistled through the air on its way down to meet its target.
There was a swish and a loud crack as it made contact , slashing against John’s exposed skin.
John gritted his teeth and breathed hard as the sharp sting of the first stroke set in .
He couldn’t believe how much it stung.

His wife continued with his  switching  administering brisk , uninterrupted , rapid-fire strokes  to his exposed rear.
John tried but he could no longer hold his composure .
He yelled and howled instinctively as the switch danced around his buttocks and upper thighs .

He could  feel the raised red welts forming each time the switch seared  into his skin.
Buoyed by the  effectiveness of the licking she was administering , Beth  continued with the switching enthusiastically.
She noticed he was having trouble staying in position , hopping  from foot to foot , and wiggling his rear in an attempt to avoid the onslaught.

Beth paused. 
“Stay in position and stop moving or you’ll get it worse!” she warned.
Discarding the switch , she raised her palm and brought it down heartily on John’s right cheek.
Surprised by the change , John yelped and bucked forward.
Beth delivered a non-stop flurry of 20 or so solid spanks all over her husband’s bottom until her was crying for mercy.
“WAAAH! PLEASE BETH….STOP….I’M SORRY…PLEASE !” he bawled.

Having reduced her strong , tough husband into a whimpering schoolboy Beth was finally  satisfied that he had learned his lesson.
She stopped the spanking and allowed him to stand up.
John staggered to his feet , moaning and breathing heavily.
His entire backside and tops of his thighs was a blazing red and dotted with raised welts from the switch.
He would be feeling the effects of this punishment every time he sits down for the next few days.

Beth’s amusement was evident while she watched with arms folded as her strong husband danced and bounced around the woodshed trying to rub the sting and burning from his bared rear, his pants at this ankles .
He finally gained enough composure to face his wife.
Tears welled in his eyes and he was truly a humbled and sorry man.
“Well? Do you have anything to say?” Beth asked in her classic Schoolmarm tone.
“I’m s…sorry  Beth..” he replied in a  faltering  voice.
“Good …supper will be ready in ten minutes…  “ she said calmly and turned to leave her husband in the woodshed to nurse his wounds.

Beth strode confidently back to the Ranch-house under the gaze of some  ranch-hands working on a fence near the woodshed.
Judging by their expressions it would appear they had heard everything.
When John finally emerged from the shed he stoicly tried to act as if nothing had happened , but the Ranch-hands knew his wife had given him more than a good talking to.
The discomfort in his rear-quarters forced him to walk with a distinct limp and the grimace on his face told the story.
Knowing better , the workers hid their smirks  and went about their work.

 John ate supper that evening standing up using the mantle as his table.
“I’m sorry Beth …..I behaved poorly and deserved that licking you gave me …” he said calmly ,  picking at his plate.
“You still have to go over to Mrs. Graves’ house tomorrow to apologize …” Beth reminded him.
She stood up and planted a kiss on John .
“Come on you big lug….help me clean up the dishes  and I’ll put some ointment on to ease the sting …” she offered. 



CHAPTER 4

“Are you almost done darling? ….the ointment is ready !” Beth called out from the bedroom as John dried off the last dish.
John tossed the dishcloth aside , undid the apron he was wearing and entered the bedroom. 
The sight before him left him speechless.

Beth lay face down on the bed …. completely naked….her head propped up by a palm on either side of her  pretty face.
Her firm breasts presented themselves invitingly and her white , pert bottom wiggled seductively , beckoning  him to her.
The punishment Beth had delivered to her handsome husband had fueled a fire in her loins which needed to be tended !


Beths long red hair , normally tied up with ribbons or a pony tail , cascaded over her shoulders and back.
She patted the bed beside her “ Come lie down here dear and I’ll apply the ointment to your poor bottom.”she purred.

John quickly disrobed and lay face down , allowing Beth to gently apply the cool ointment to his swollen , red buttocks .
Beth’s hands wandered all over his muscular frame  .
She eased John him over on his side and  ***.

The fire in John’s rear-quarters had fueled the fire in his loins.
***
***


They spent the entire night continuing to make passionate love that neither of them had experienced before.

CHAPTER 5 

The next morning Beth kissed  her husband and handed  him a cup of coffee as he lay in bed .
“OUCH..” John grimaced when he brushed his rear on the bed trying to sit up.”
Beth giggled “ Best get used to lying on your side darling…..I’m afraid its going to be  a while before you can sit down comfortably” she remarked.
“Now finish your coffee and get dressed …..there’s lots of chores to be done ..” Beth announced.

John smiled “My first job will be take  down that darn woodshed so you won’t be able to give me another switching “ he threatened.
Beth laughed and walked over to her dresser.
“Well then I’d just have to use the hairbrush instead my husband  !” she replied brandishing her large wooden brush.
She looked up to ponder , putting a hand on her tiny chin.
“Let’s see now….your razor strap is another excellent option …then there’s the big wooden spoon in the kitchen…..and …” she added.
John put up a hand to stop her.”I get it…I get it …”
Beth wagged the brush at him “Oh you’ll get it alright if you don’t get dressed real fast!” 
John promptly stepped out of bed.

John did his chores , leaving the woodshed intact , and then walked to town to deliver his apology to Mrs. Graves.
It wasn’t going to be  easy , especially since she knew that Beth had given him a sound thrashing .
The older lady accepted his apology with grace.
“It takes a strong man to admit when he is wrong Mr. Dillon….. and an even stronger one to permit his wife to chastise him when he deserves it .
 I imagine  you are quite…er….sore today ?” she enquired curiously.
John blushed as he put a palm gingerly to the seat of his denims.
“Lets just say my wife knows how  to get to the seat of a problem Mrs Graves .“ 
The older lady grinned.
“You can tell Mrs. Dillon she’ll make a fine addition to the women’s guild Mr Dillon …and if it makes you feel any better …. I’m sure  you won’t be the only man in town who has  had a date with his wife in the woodshed. “

CHAPTER 6

After a few days John’s backside was still tender but had recuperated enough  to sit down , so he decided to set  up his usual Friday night poker with his old friends Judge Beckett and Marshal Brown.
These were the two most powerful men in town and over the years the trio had enjoyed their men’s night out of gambling ,  cigars and whiskey.
John had not hosted a poker night since he married Beth so his turn was long overdue.
Beth was out giving a lecture at the Women’s Guild meeting that evening , so John figured it worked out well.
He didn’t bother to tell Beth as he expected they would be finished before the end of the Womens Guild meeting , which their wives also enthusiastically attended .
He knew Beth would not approve of the gambling , drinking and smoking  and  he  would have lots of time to tidy up before Beth arrived home anyway.

John poured a drink for the Judge when he arrived and beckoned him to his favorite armchair. “Er …uuh …thanks John but think I’ll stand for a while…..stiff back sitting at court all day you know ….”he mumbled.
John became curious when  , Marshall Brown also declined a seat , complaining to be  saddle sore from being on his horse all day.
John put a hand to his chin.
“Tell me gentlemen……. we’ve been friends for a long time ….have your wives been attending Beth’s lectures at the  Women’s Guild  ? John asked.
Both men looked at each other before nodding.
“So by any chance have you two had a ….’trip to the woodshed’ recently ?” he asked.

Both mend looked away and coughed , nervously staring down at  their shoes.
The Judge was first to speak.
“You know , it took a lot of guts for Mildred to take me upstairs and thrash my behind the way she did  ….and you know something ? I darn well deserved it !” he said , looking relieved.

“Martha took one of those canes from her garden .. ….and striped my butt good !” The Marshal declared.
John and the Judge grimaced in unison as they pictured the scene.
“ I Deserved every lick though….” The Marshall added 

Having a common experience unified the friends even more and the whiskey and ciigars  flowed freely.
After a few more drinks the Judge blurted “ I’ll tell you one thing gentlemen … that strapping  was worth every lick … Mildred was as frisky as a showgirl afterwards !”
Marshall Brown nodded in agreement  “ .. Martha was like a savage girl after  she’d  whipped my behind …..”
John laughed and poured some more drinks “ Here’s to our wives !’ they toasted.


CHAPTER 7

Meanwhile down the street Beth was standing in front of a standing room only throng of women at the Ladies Guild meeting holding up a wooden hairbrush.
“I’m sure you each have one of these at home in your dresser ladies …..if not I suggest you get one at the General Store.  
You need to add this  weapon to your arsenal !
A strap pr switch will smart and sting but a good dose of the back of this hairbrush will really get your point acrosske !
Don’t forget ladies …to apply the hairbrush properly your man must lie across your knees as you sit down.
This will be more comfortable for you more  , give you better accuracy and will be  most humiliating for him…..” she continued on as the hushed room listened intently.

Beth’s talk received a standing ovation from the thrilled audience.
She was the most sought after person in the room as the ladies enjoyed their tea and cake afterwards.
sat on her horse sand buggy for the short ride home.
Sitting  on her buggy for the ride home , she had a very satisfied feeling …and  all that talk about spanking at the meeting also excited her in other ways. !
She just couldn’t wait to get home so her husband could make passionate love to her .
When  she arrived at the Ranch she  was surprised to see two horses tied outside .

CHAPTER 8

Inside the ranch house , the three menhad lost all track of time and were surprised when Beth returned home and observed the card game still in progress.
All three men quite drunk and the house a complete mess.

Beth surveyed the mess around her without  saying a word ..
“Uuuh…..guess we better get going  ….getting late …..bye Beth ……” the Judge stuttered as the pair  hurriedly left the room in short order.

Beth closed the door behind them and John stood up.
“Don’t worry Beth….I’ll clean it up…..” he reasoned.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this John ? This is yet another example of your selfishness and inconsideration !” Beth said ,  standing with arms folded and foot tapping.

While ohn scrambled for a response , Beth  dug into her bag , pulled out the hairbrush and grabbed John roughly by the ear.
Unable to free himself without ripping off his ear John moaned for her to free her grip.
Beth pulled out a chair from the table and sat down on it , placing the hairbrush on her lap.
With her free hand she expertly began undoing her husband’s denims , yanking them down to his ankles.
When he  protested she glared up at him angrily and  roughly jerked down his long johns .
She tipped  him head first across her lap , and he landed with his legs high in the air and his  nose almost touching the floor.
Beth took hold of the hairbrush and adjusted his position across her lap , surveying her target.
John’s struggled to balance in his position and his muscular buttocks tensed in anticipation .
His white cheeks still showed a few faint marks  from his earlier thrashing  but Beth intended to add some much needed color to them.


Just as she had described at the meeting , Beth  proceeded to administer a textbook hairbrushing to her Husband’s bare bottom.
He howled , kicked and struggled in vain over her lap.
The hairbrush  tattooed red ovals on his skin  untill his entire bottom was flaming red.
A few areas where the brush had landed repeatedly were becoming blistered.
Undeterred , Beth continued to bring down the hairbrush on her target .
Loud cracks echoed around the room.

Outside on the porch the Judge and the Marshall had paused to listen to their friend being spanked hard by his wife.
They were just like a couple of kids ….part of them wanting to run but their curiosity forcing them to stay and watch through !

John bucked violently on her lap when Beth delivered a final flurry of smacks  and dumping her husband off her lap onto the floor.

Hairbrush still in hand she calmly walked over to the telephone .

“Hello Mrs.  Beckett ….its Beth Dillon…..fine thank you ….glad you enjoyed the talk.
I just wanted to let you know that your husband  is  here …he’s been drinking , gambling , smoking and also has made quite a mess at my house !
I suggest you greet him with the hairbrush when he arrives home..
Would you mind popping over to Mrs. Brown and let her know that the Marshall is here  also….you’re welcome…goodbye “. Beth put down the phone .

The two men stared at each other and raced for their horses to head home to face their wives.

CHAPTER 9

John had somehow struggled to his feet and was standing before Beth  sporting  an expression as painful as his scorched bottom.
His pants and longjohns were still at his ankles and s he clutched his buttocks with both hands.
Stooped to pull up his pants M,  Beth put her hand up to stop him.
“Get those pants right off Mister…” she ordered .
“Aw Beth….not more….I’m soo sore….honest….   “ he pleaded backing away.
***
***
John cried out when Beth  took a firm grip of his well spanked cheeks with both her hands. 
Her long red pony tail whipped around violently .
***
Hauling Beth to her feet , he spun her around and she positioned herself face first over the kitchen table.
Glasses , bottles and playing cards flew to the floor as Beth positioned  herself across the table.
John hoisted her  dress and petticoats and Beth moaned  for him to hurry .
***

John finally caught sight of her lace pantaloons which was the last layer of her clothing between him and the jewels  he sought.
***
***
Beth’s long ponytail swung around her shoulders wildly narrowly missing her husband’s face.
***
Exhausted , sweating and breathing heavily they both lay prone for a few moments.

They both stood up and turned to face each other.
John embraced Beth  tightly and their lips locked in a long , lingering kiss.
As the kiss continued they both kicked off their remaining garments.
Standing  naked , Beth squealed in amusement when  John scooped  her up ,flung her over his shoulder and carried her to the bedroom .

Meanwhile back in town , two of the most distinguished men in the County, were  sporting two of the reddest , sorest backsides in the County.
As they lay in bed with their very satisfied wives , they wondered  what the Women’s Guild would come up with at their next meeting !

CHAPTER 10

Since Beth’s work began at the Womens Guild , life in the small town had changed noticeably.
Everyone seemed happier ,friendlier and relaxed.
Men were visibly more respectful towards their wives , opening doors , addressing them politely and  helping them with the household chores.
Couples and Families were spending more time together.
Drunkiness , fighting and rowdiness had declined significantly.

The Womens Guild credited Beth’s initiative for much of the change and had elevated her to Vice-President.
She and Mrs Parsons , the Guild President , became members of the Town Council and were able to pass a number of bylaws which made the town more respectable .  
Beth also became  Editor in Chief of the local newspaper and now the paper now carried many articles for or about women’s rights.

Marshall Brown had hired a female Deputy , Annie Woods , who was proving to be very efficient in maintaining order in the streets. 

In a controversial move , Judge Dermott insisted that men appearing before him charged with being disorderly or similar offences  be accompanied in court by their wives .
He now had the authority to waive the normal sentence of a fine or jail term upon condition the guilty man’s be released into his wife’s custody for administration of ‘domestic discipline’.

Needless to say Beth was very proud of her work but remained modest by crediting all the women in town for the changes.

At home , Beth and John’s relationship continued to flourish .
John’s bouts of temper , rowdiness and other faults occurred less frequently , but  when they did happen , he knew the consequences.

Beth firmly believed in disciplining her husband as soon as the offending behavior occurred .
This would  occasionally create an embarrassing situation for John .
If the couple was at home when the offence occurred , John would be quickly sent  to the woodshed or the bedroom where Beth would administer a sound bottom warming with a switch , hairbrush or strap .

If John’s misbehavior occurred in public , Beth  had to wait for an opportune time to take the appropriate corrective action.
This was rare , but on one occasion John had been rude to some visitors at a reception she was hosting at the Town Hall .
Beth was forced to intervene and escorted her husband to  the Judges Chambers.

The couple returned some time later , arm in arm and , smiling and content.
John’s smile  was somewhat  forced and his walk suggested he was suffering from discomfort in his rear-quarters
Most of the Ladies present smiled smugly ,  realizing  John had received more than a lecture from his wife in the chambers.!

CHAPTER 11

The Judge’s Chambers had offered Beth and John  the privacy they needed  for carrying out a domestic discipline session , but Beth did not have any of the usual implements she would normally used at home to chastise her Husband.
The only option was a sound , old fashioned , over the knee hand spanking with her hand!

As her long formal dress restricted her movement , Beth decided to remove it and administered her husband’s spanking in her undergarments!
Even John was  surprised at the power with which Beth  delivered the long hard spanking he received. 
She heartily slapped his bare buttocks and upper thighs until they were redder than a ripe tomato and  her  palm stung . 

John performed his usual post spanking “dance” around the room rendering Beth was very aroused by the situation.
She reached stepped out of her silk drawers and  John , lready naked from the waist  down needed no encouragement responding to his wife’s asvances.
They wildly made love right there on  the Judges desk!

John made sure to let his wife know how well she had spanked him , but she reminded him when they returned home after the reception he would be  over her lap again for a “proper” correction with her hairbrush.
John’s  ‘double whacking’ made sitting down very challenging for John the next few days. 



CHAPTER 12

One of Beth’s new projects for the Womens’ Guild was the “Husband Report Card” which she developed using her skills as a School Teacher and tested at home with John.
Every Saturday  Beth would go through a list of ‘subjects’ and would grade John on each one.
John was allowed to give his opinion but,  as in School , Beth’s decision was final.
If John’s overall grade fell below a B- , he would receive discipline  according to his grade.
Beth was a tough marker and constantly raised the bar for her Husband so , despite his improvements , after 6 report cards  John was still shooting for that elusive B-.

His best performance was a C which still earned him a full dozen ‘stingers’ with  the razor strap.
After a particularly bad week , a disappointed  Beth awarded John his first  F grade.
For this lowest of the low marks John received a  pre-breakfast switching and a bedtime hairbrushing every day for the next week !
The only consolation for John was the knowledge that Beth was so sexually ravenous after these discipline sessions  he was assured of a rapture filled love-making session !

The Womens’ Guild adopted Beth’s report card unanimously and it was soon in use in homes all over town .

The local newspaper began  publishing articles entitled “Disciplining your Husband “ and “ Beyond the Hairbrush” as more and more women ‘warmed’ to the trend.
Beth invited  a delegation from the Womens Guild to the Town Council Meeting and they were able to pass a by-law which legally empowered  wives to discipline their Husbands for certain domestic offences.
Judge Dermott received a deadly glare from his Wife Mildred when he made the legally sensible point that it was only fair that Men should receive the same right towards their wives.
“No real Gentleman would even contemplate laying a hand on a lady in such a fashion !” came the outraged reply from the Womens Guild representatives.
Later that evening Mildred Dermott  severely roasted the Judge’s ample derriere  with her hairbrush for daring to even make such a suggestion !

The dramatic change  in the town was soon attracting attention across the State , and the Governor sent a representative to investigate their success.
Beth was excited at the news .
The revolution had begun !

CHAPTER 13

Horace Tweed , the Governor’s representative , arrived in town and was very impressed with the quality of life .
As part of his assignment he had attended one of Judge Dermott’s court sessions to evaluate the type of cases being heard.
He was pleased to see that all the offences were quite minor , but curious that all the offenders were men and that in all cases the Judge waived the normal State penalty and placed the accused in the custody of his wife to receive “appropriate correction”.

Tweed obtained his answer when he browsed through the town bylaws and he  came across by-law 13:
‘For certain offences committed by Married Men such as drunkiness , swearing , fighting , rowdiness or general inconsideration towards his wife  the State penalty may be waived on condition the offender be released into the custody of his wife who will be responsible to administer appropriate discipline  in private at the Marital home.
Such discipline will be in the form of corporal punishment applied with a strap , switch , hairbrush or similar instrument  to the offender’s  bare buttocks .’

Tweed shook his head and read it again , barely  believing his eyes.
After discussing the matter with Judge Beckett , he was referred to speak to Beth .
She gave him a very thorough and articulate description of the changes  happening  in the Town.
Tweed was very impressed  , as was the Governor when he read the report.
In fact he was so impressed he made a request  for Beth to come and meet him .


CHAPTER 14

Beth was in awe of her surroundings as she entered the Governor’s Mansion , her eyes soaking up the opulent surroundings.
She felt so small as she sat in the huge room with high ceilings and expensive paintings on the wall.
After a few moments the sound of footsteps on the marble floor were audible and the huge door of the room opened.
Governor Jones strode confidently in and smiled broadly at Beth and then  stooped to kiss her hand.
“Welcome Mrs Dillon , I’ve been looking forward to this meeting “ he said kindly .
The Governor was a tall , surprisingly handsome man in his early forties with well groomed dark hair tinged with distinguished shade of gray on the sides .
His well tailored suit and confident swagger added to his attractiveness and Beth was  pleasantly surprised .

Jones chatted casually with Beth as he showed her around the mansion .
They  finally arrived at his expansive office where he took a seat behind a massive , well polished desk.
Beth settled into one of the plush visitors chairs and they continued their  vibrant discussion on state politics.
The Governor commended Beth for her work in improving womens’ rights , equality and quality of life in her town.
“Frankly I’m quite amazed that you were able to achieve this in such a male dominated state like ours Mrs Dillon .
I’m particularly impressed by your powers of pursuasion to be able to convince the men in your town to accept these changes. “ he declared.

Beth leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs , now feeling very comfortable in her environment.
“Governor , you have to understand that we women know very well how their men think. Inside all men is a little boy , and inside all women is a Mother. 
Men crave the discipline of a loving Mother ,  and his Wife simply assumes this role  when they marry.
They accept that when they do something wrong they should be punished ….and who is better to do this than their loving wife.”
The Governor listened intently as Beth continued.
“The laws we passed offer protection for the men by providing an alternative to the State penalties which deprive them of income by  placing them in jail , or by  taking away  their hard earned money in fines.  Money that should be used to feed their families.
As a Schoolteacher I know corporal punishment is much more effective  for men and boys.
It does not reduce their income or keep them away from their families , ands it is effective and swift justice  controlled by order of the court…..and of course there can be  other pleasurable benefits to a marriage when this practice is adopted. !
 Both Husbands and Wives have reported significant enjoyment of their conjugal relationship as a result of domestic discipline.”

The Governor gulped and appeared visibly uncomfortable with Beth’s openness .
“ I have arranged a luncheon in the next room Mrs Dillon…..and my wife , Mrs Jones will be joining us ….she really is looking forward to meeting you.“ he announced .
The Governors wife was a petite and very pretty lady , who looked somewhat younger than her Husband.
She and Beth quickly warmed to each other and , unlike the Governor , Mrs Jones could not get enough of Beth’s views on domestic discipline.
The Governor failed in his repeated attempts to change the subject .
The two women ignored him and continued their intense conversation on the subject.  
Finally , completely frustrated ,  Governor Jones raised his voice “ Ladies , ladies…. may I ask that we talk about something else !“.

The two women stopped talking , looked at each other,  and then at the Governor.
Mrs Jones glared icily at her husband “ Really Henry…..how dare you interrupt our guest  in that manner !
It was totally uncalled for. 
Just because you’re the Governor does not mean that you are the center of attention all the time !” she fumed.
The Governor was rendered speechless.
Beth smiled and leaned over to whisper something in the older lady’s ear.
Mrs. Jones’ giggled with delight , her face lighting up in satisfaction.
“Why of course I will my dear….you are absolutely right ……that is an excellent suggestion “ she responded  , looking thankfully at Beth and sent the Governor a frightening glare.

CHAPTER 15

WHAP !
“YEOW “
WHAP ! WHAP ! WHAAP!
“OUCH” “OW” “ PLEASE STOP HONEY ! …OOOW! THAT HURTS!”
Lucy Jones  berated her husband “Oh stop being such a big baby Henry…..I’m far from being finished with you after the way you’ve behaved….“ 
She paused to glance at the  glowing red backside on her lap before raising the hairbrush again to resume the spanking .

The Governor pushed  his palms onto  the floor to steady himself and braced for the next wave of blows.
His wife had learned much from her lunch discussion with Beth Dillon to be capable of  administering a  very effective hair-brushing .
She had been putting up with her husband’s selfishness , bad manners and inconsideration for too many years , and now she was warming to the task of giving him his long overdue comeuppance.

Henry knew he had brought this on himself by inviting Beth to meet him .
He could not disagree that his behavior over the years merited such correction at the hands of his long suffering wife.
Lucy continued to pepper her husband’s buttocks and upper thighs with the hairbrush.
It was only when his bottom was well and truly blistered that she unceremoniously dispatched him from her lap into the floor.

The humiliated Politician stood up unsteadily with head bowed.
Gingerly he rubbed his roasted rump.
Lucy strode over to him , boldly taking hold of his shirt and hoisting it up to his naval.
***
“Come with me Henry….I know exactly how to deal with this !” she whispered lustily and led her husband over to the bed.

The Governor and his wife were positively glowing when they arrived , arm-in-arm for breakfast the next morning.
Glowing even more was the Governor’s bottom , which felt like he had been sitting on hot embers !
“I trust you slept well Mrs. Dillon? “ Lucy asked.
Beth grinned “I certainly did ….and you ?” Beth replied.
Lucy and her husband looked at each other mischieviously .
The Governor coughed nervously before responding “ Actually , neither of us slept very much Mrs. Dillon…”

CHAPTER 16

John was pleased to see Beth’s return from her visit with the Governor as he helped her out of the Stagecoach.
John hauled Beth’s luggage into their buggy and kissed her when  he sat down beside her.
“You’ve been making headlines I see…. .” John smiled , pointing to the Newspaper beside him.
Beth tittered and eagerly picked up the newspaper.
She didn’t have to read far.
‘Governor Jones intends to propose a new bill on State Penalties ‘ read the front page headline.
Apparently the Governor was so impressed with Beth’s initiatives he was ready to introduce the reforms for the entire State !
“Looks like you made quite an impression with the Governor .” John said.
Beth smiled impishly. “ Actually it was his wife who made the most marked impression on the Governor “ she chimed .
John looked at Beth in disbelief.
“Beth!  Surely you didn’t ad vise his wife to……”
Beth interrupted “I certainly did my husband” she said proudly.

Removing the smile from her face , Beth looked sternly at John.
“I trust I will find our house as I left it John Dillon ?” she asked ,  knowing John’s aversion to housekeeping.
John immediately looked guilty.
“You know I’m not one for cleaning house  Beth “ he confessed.
Beth scowled at him “ John Dillon !” she pointed an accusing finger at him “If the house is a mess you and the Governor will have something in common- a bottom that’s  too sore to sit on!”

Beth surveyed the house with a keen eye while John carried in her bags.
She acknowledged that John had made an honest attempt to keep the house clean , but his lack of expertise in the field plainly showed.
John looked at Beth , awaiting a verdict .
Instead ,  she collapsed in the chair with a sigh.
“It’s been a long trip and I need to rest John. Go pour me a bath…….. and  leave the razor strap on the bed . I’ll deal with you later.” She declared.
“Yes Ma’am.” John gulped.

While  John prepared Beth’s  bath she  undressed in the bedroom 
Wrapped in her bathrobe and carrying a large wooden bath-brush , she  handed it to John.
“You can scrub my back with this husband ……. And be thankful I won’t  be using it on your behind later !”
John sighed with relief.
He recalled how much the bath-brush hurt when Beth had used it on him for keeping them late for an important dinner.

John held Beth’s robe  and she stepped out of it to enter the tub.
The sight of his attractive wife naked , her long flowing red hair spilling down her back , stirred passion in John but he resisted the urge to take Beth in his arms and carry her off to the bedroom.
Instead he was satisfied with massaging her neck and shoulders while  he washed the lily white , soft skin of her back.

When she was finished bathing , Beth stood up.
John handed her a towel to wrap around her .
She glanced  haughtily over at him “ Go to the bedroom ,  take off all your clothes and lie face down on the bed.  I will be there shortly.” She said curtly.
John obeyed , disrobing  and lying , face down on the bed , he waited for Beth.
The minutes seemed like hours as he lay there , occasionally catching a glimpse of the razor strap which lay beside him .
He felt his erection growing beneath him .

Finally Beth quietly entered the room and picked up the strap.
Wrapped in a  towel which barely covered her voluptuous anatomy she stood by the side of the bed , strap in hand .
John looked over at her , his face filled with desire.
Teasingly Beth  looked at her husband and  droppied the towel to the floor.
Then John felt the coldness of the leather on his bare skin as Beth placed it across his bottom.

Raising it high above her head , shed brought it down  forecefully.
There was  a loud crack when it snapped across John’s buttocks.
John flinched and gasped as the strap seemed to sear his flesh leaving a red outline where it had landed.
Beth continued , methodically  painting her husband’s vulnerable bottom a fiery red .
When she was happy with her handiwork she put down the strap and lay beside  John on the bed. 
Contently they lay in each others arms and made love , happy to be reunited again.

CHAPTER 17

The President welcomed Governor Jones into the Oval Office and poured them both a large  brandy.
“Tell me more about how you’ve been able to civilize that wild west state of yours Governor “the President asked.
The two old friends eased themselves into the  plush chairs and lit up their huge cigars. , filling the room with pungent smoke.
The President’s assistant knocked on the door and entered the room.
“Sorry to disturb you Mr. President but the The First Lady and the Governor’s wife have arrived.”
The President sighed “I guess we’ll have to do this over dinner Henry…can’t keep our ladies waiting can we ?” .

The two men stood up when  the   elegantly dressed ladies entered the room noisily.
“We hope you two don’t mind …..but we took the liberty of inviting a guest. 
When ucy told me all about her , I just had to meet her in person “ the First lady said.
Governor Jones’ expensive cigar fell to the floor when Beth Dillon strode confidently into the room.
She  held out her hand to the President.
“Beth Dillon , its a pleasure to meet you Mr President “ she said.
The President beamed “Ah….so you are the famous lady who is bringing civilization to the west of our great country?” he mused.
Beth acknowledged the compliment “Such measures are needed all across our country Mr. President ….but especially in the west.”

“So what have you ladies been chatting about all day?” the President asked.
The first lady smiled mischieviously at Beth.
“Actually , Mrs Dillon and I have had quite a long chat my dear..”
Frowning , she scowled  at the President’s cigar and brandy.
 “You know your not to have those Albert ….put them away at once ….and be assured  I’ll be dealing with that nasty habit of yours later !“
Lucy Jones wagged a finger at her husband.
 “….And that goes for you too Henry Jones !” she echoed. 
Governor Jones gasped and instinctively put a palm to the seat of his trousers .
Beth simply looked on with a satisfied smile.

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More Spanking Pop Art

“Dana

There is a storyline brewing for the Pop Art Spanking project. Stay tuned.   – Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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The Wedding Gift: Returning Home

Readers,


This is the second part of ‘The Wedding Gift’, submitted by The Very Bad Boy. As you know, he is no stranger to punishment, so it comes as no surprise that he writes so well on the subject. Enjoy~


– Dana


*****



“The Wedding Gift: Returning Home”

The flight back from Rome was uneventful, we spent a total of nine days in Rome and I had only managed to receive one additional spanking from Ann. Unfortunately, it was the morning of our return flight which made the long flight to Dallas a very uncomfortable affair. I should have known better but I guess I was still trying to process that Ann had introduced spankings into our relationship. Maybe I was hoping the first spanking was just a onetime event. However that was a short lived hope. The day we were to return home I woke up an hour later than planned, looking at the clock I jumped out of bed and started yelling at Ann to get up because we are going to be late. Ann turned over and looked at the clock with a groan saying “David get back in bed, its only 6:30 we still have three hours before we have to leave for the airport.” 

Well I don’t like being rushed and for me three hours is cutting it too close especially when we still had to finish packing, eat breakfast, call for a cab, check out of the hotel, load everything up and fight traffic on the way to the airport. Without thinking I looked at Ann and said somewhat defensively “You need to get out of bed now! We are not going to be late for our flight just because you want a little more sleep.” I felt a bit empowered especially in light of the recent events with the blue umbrella. To be very honest, I was a tad proud of myself for standing up to Ann, I was willing to let Ann be in charge of some aspects of our relationship but ultimately I was going to have the final say in things. So I figure there was no better time to establish my role as head of the household than right now. I might have gotten away with my previous outburst if I had just walked away and let Ann go back to sleep, but no I had to push her some more. That is when I learned I was never going to have the final say in this relationship. 
Ann turned over and wrapped herself deeper in the blankets, I stood there and with my most authoritative look and tone said “did you not hear what I said, you need to get out of bed now!” I then reached over and pulled the blankets off the bed and told her “it’s time to get up”. If there was ever a moment I wished I could go back in time it was right then and there. The look Ann gave me at that moment sent a tremor of fear down my back. I immediately bent over and picked up the blankets from the floor. Placing the blankets back on the bed I tried to tuck them around Ann, all the while I kept muttering “I am really sorry Ann, I really am, I won’t ever do anything like that again.” The silence from Ann was deafening, her gaze shot through me like an arrow and I knew at that point I was going to experience my second spanking. If I had only known what was about to happen, I would have done anything to get out of that spanking. In retrospect, I should have kept my mouth shut in the first place and gone back to bed when Ann told me to, but sometime I just can’t keep myself out of trouble no matter how hard I try. 

          Ann threw off the covers and set up in the bed, she simply pointed to the corner. She did not have to say a word as I knew I had better not get myself into anymore trouble. As I shuffled to the corner I saw out of the corner of my eye the hairbrush sitting on the night stand. I noticed Ann had taken the red ribbon and tied a nice little bow around the handle of the hairbrush. Ann told me earlier that week from now on when I stand in the corner I would do so naked, this served two purposes. The first was so I could place my hands on my bare bum and think about how it is going to feel while it’s being spanked. The second reason was so we would not waste any time when it came time for my spanking, she could take me right across her lap and immediately begin spanking me. As I stood in the corner I could still feel the lingering effects of the first spanking she had given me. As Ann went into the bathroom, I slightly pressed my fingers against the flesh of my bum and I was reminded of just how much that wooden hairbrush stung as it landed on my bare skin.

 Ann entered the room and walked over to the bed, as she passed the night stand she reached down and picked up the hairbrush. She sat down on the edge of the bed and with a stern voice called me over. As I turned around I saw a sight which still makes me tremble even to this day. Ann was lightly tapping the hairbrush against the palm of her hand. I would soon learn this was a sign that I was in for a very hard and painful spanking. I noticed the red ribbon was pushed up to the base of the hairbrush, the short ends of the ribbon were freely fluttering in the air each time she tapped the brush against her palm. It looked as if the brush itself was waving me over and celebrating the fact that once again it was going to be applied to the bare bottom of a naughty husband.  Slightly trembling I started to mutter an excuse, Ann simply looked at me and said firmly “Don’t you even say a word young man, all I want to hear from you is ‘Yes Ma’am’ do you understand me?” I meekly uttered “yes Ma’am” and presented myself to my young bride as she prepared to take me across her lap for the second time in a matter of days.  

Ann led me to her left side and quickly pulled me towards her lap; this happened so fast I lost my balance and I fell across her lap. I am always amazed with the strength Ann has when she grabs my arm to lead me across her lap. Her grasp is as firm as her countenance and as unyielding as her voice. As I came to a stop, I felt Ann’s right arm wrap around my waist and press me snuggly against her body. For a moment I looked at the floor and thought to myself “O’ how I wished I had just gone back to bed”. Then it happened … with no warning, no warm up, and no taps, just the solid sting of the back of the wooden hairbrush hitting my unprotected and still tender bottom. I was caught off guard and before I could stop myself I yelled out “Damn it Ann that hurts.” If there is anything that gets Ann upset while she is spanking me it is when I yell at her, especially if I use foul language while doing so. Immediately she lifted the hairbrush and brought the brush down in a series of quick painful slaps. She kept the area small that she was spanking so there would be no time for the stinging of the last blow to reach its climax before the next stinging blow landed. I started to wiggle and squirm. I vainly tried to move a bit forward on her lap so the stinging blows would land in a fresh area instead of the same small diameter that she had been spanking. As I tried to move forward she squeezed my waist tighter, trapping me in place. She reached down with her brush finding a nice tender spot on my lower thigh. She gave me one good smack leaving an immediate bright red imprint of the brush on my leg. With that she said “Stop that right now, you will take the spanking you earned and you will take it like I taught you to.” To reinforce what she said, she landed another sharp stinging blow to my lower thigh leaving me with two perfect outlines of the brush. This time instead of yelling I clinched my teeth and held my breath trying to will the sting away. Ann stopped for a moment, looking at me as I held my breath she said “Take a deep breath and keep breathing because holding your breath won’t make this spanking any easier.” To prove her point, she proceeded to give me another set of quick painful slaps to my bottom. I took in a deep breath, I breathed out, I held my breath, I closed my eyes, and I even clinched my bottom all to no avail. No matter what I did I could not escape the stinging burn that was quickly dominating my entire lower region.

After what seemed like an hour Ann finally stopped. I was relieved when she told me to stand up; I did not think I could take much more of the spanking. Although I am not sure it was as bad as the first spanking she gave me, it still hurt a lot. As I stood up Ann grabbed my arm and brought me in front of her. She looked at me and said “David, I am very disappointed in you. I would have thought we could have made it back home before I had to take you across my lap again, but I guess I was wrong. But that is not the only thing I was wrong about. I was also wrong to think you had learned your lesson about arguing with me and I really thought you had learned your lesson about not disrespecting me. But I see I was wrong on all accounts” I had a sinking feeling my spanking was far from over, I tried to mumble a feeble excuse and in return I received a stern disapproving look from Ann. While I may be slow on the uptake from time to time, I was smart enough this time to keep my mouth shut. So I simply said “Yes Ma’am. Ann replied “David I cannot and will not allow you to disrespect me, you have to understand in order to make this marriage work we have to show mutual respect for each other and so far you are having trouble with showing me the proper respect. But that is all right, because I have a way to deal with your disrespect. Unfortunately, I thought I would not have to do this until we returned home so I am a bit unprepared. But no worries my dear, my mother shared with me a little secret on what to do when I find myself in this position.” With that Ann stood up and walked over to the glass inlaid wooden door that separated the bedroom from the sitting room. Attached to the door was a small cherry wood mini-blind, she walked up to the blind and skillfully disconnected the smooth rounded wooden tilt rod, walking over to me she swiftly swished the rod through the air. The rod made a whistling sound as it cut through the air; she was swishing the rod so quickly that I could hardly see the rod itself. She stopped in front of me and pointed the tip of the rod at me saying “David I thought it would take a little longer before I introduced to you to the joys of the cane. While this is not actually a cane it will do nicely for today, but you can be assured that when we get home you will become well acquainted with a proper cane.” As promised, I did become well acquainted with the cane, it was this first real caning which Ann gave me that taught me to fear the cane and where I relegated the cane to my least favorite implement.  

Ann pointed to an overstuffed chair that was in the corner, telling me to move the chair out of the corner so I could stand behind it. I thought about pleading with her not to spank me anymore but then I thought better of it, so I did as I was told. After I moved the chair she instructed me to stand behind the chair and lean over the back rest and grab the front edge of the seat cushion. The back rest was just a bit high but I was able to reach the back of the seat cushion without a problem. I tried to reach the front edge of the cushion but I could not reach it without standing on my toes. So I let go and placed my hands at the back of the seat cushion. Ann tapped the side of my leg with the rod and asked me what I was waiting for, I said “I am not waiting for anything, I am ready now” and she replied “I told you to hold the front edge of the seat cushion” I protested a little and told her “I can’t reach the front of the seat cushion without standing on my toes.” To which she answered “exactly, that is just how I want you to be, I want to see the skin of your bottom nice and tight and ready to feel the kiss of the cane. There is nothing like the sound of a good cane striking a nice tight bum. Too bad all I have is this wooden tilt rod from the mini-blind but I am sure it will do nicely” She tapped my leg again and I reached for the front edge of the seat cushion, not knowing what I was about to experience. 

I heard the wooden rod swishing through the air a few times and then felt a light tapping on my bottom. Ann was slowing moving the rod up and down my bottom as though she was looking for the perfect spot. All of a sudden she stopped. I felt the rod rise a bit and then felt two slow light taps proceeded by the sound of the rod swishing through the air followed by the sound of a thud as the rod landed on my bum. For a second I did not feel anything. I began to think this isn’t going to hurt at all. Before I could complete my thought, a sharp stinging pain shot across my bum starting at the point where the tip of the rod landed and continuing across both cheeks. Just as the sharp stinging pain climaxed, I felt a deeper burn building in intensity and spreading across my entire bottom. Whereas the sting of the hairbrush last for a few seconds the sting and deep burning of the rod seemed to go on forever. Ann watched me patiently until she was sure the pain had died down before she repeated the entire process. A few taps, some rubbing of my bum, two small taps and then a searing burning sting on my bum. I could not help myself as I yelled out in pain and pleaded with Ann to stop. She said “I would love to stop right now but I am afraid if I do you will forget about the consequences of being disrespectful.” I pleaded with her telling her “I promise I will not forget, please honey stop!” “Hush now, you still have 10 strokes to go” was her only reply.  Unlike the quick pace of the hairbrush she took her time with the rod, allowing each stroke to fully blossom into the full effect before landing the next stroke. 

Finally she was finished. As I reached behind me to rub my bum I could feel the welts that were forming. Each time I touched the welts they would send a dreadful burning pain across my bum. I learned very quickly it would be best not to touch them at all. Looking at the clock Ann commented “its 7:30 we still have two hours before we need leave for airport. Why don’t you be a Doll and order us some room service and we will enjoy a nice light breakfast here in our room. I want to enjoy my handy work for a bit before you cover that colorful bum of yours. I think I am beginning to see some bruises forming; I truly love seeing bruises after a good spanking.”   

I am not sure how it happened, but I found myself sitting in the dreaded middle seat of a three seat row. Ann had the aisle seat and next to the window sat a lovely older lady who was polite and very talkative. However she seemed to have to go to the lavatory about every 30 minutes. While this in itself would be annoying under any normal circumstance, for me it was simply unbearable. Each time she either got up or returned to her seat I had to stand up and move into the aisle. As I moved my pants would rub against the welts on my bum sending small burning stings across my bottom. But what made it worse, was every time I stood in the aisle, Ann made sure she was behind me. While we waited for the older lady to get out of her seat Ann would press up against me and poke at the welts on my bum. It did not matter how many times the lady left or returned to her seat Ann never tired of poking at my welts. All I could do was smile and laugh a bit; otherwise instead of poking me she would give me a good hard pinch. It only took one pinch to realize it is better just to let Ann poke me while I wait for the lovely older lady.       

After we landed in Dallas we made our way to the baggage claim. By this time my bottom was very sore and I was walking a bit stiff trying to keep my pants from rubbing against my welts.  As we cleared the customs area we saw Ann’s parents waiting for us. Ann’s mother Mellissa came running up to us and gave Ann a big hug. She then turned to me and patted my bottom asking “so how is your bum feeling today?” She gave me a quick little smile and with a light giggle she turned back to talk with Ann. After Ann’s father and I retrieved our bags we headed to the doors leading to the parking lot. I noticed Ann’s father was walking a bit stiff, and I realized we were both walking the same way. As they passed through the doors Mellissa reached down and poked his bottom a few times and that’s when I saw it, the handle of a well worn wooden hairbrush sticking out of Mellissa’s handbag. 


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While I’m traveling, you’ll be in good (automated) hands.

Tomorrow begins my east coast travel week, and it’s looking like a great trip. I am excited to see my regular playmates, and to meet a couple new ones, as well. 

“Dana



In past travels, I’ve left a little message reminding readers that I’ll be out of town and unwilling to post updates (which is still totally accurate), so this time I’ve spent most of the day organizing, formatting, and scheduling a few posts for the upcoming week. 
Luckily, there are some extremely talented and focused writers who contribute regularly to the content here, and make it possible to populate this blog with so much quality fiction writing. 


It should go without saying (but I’ll say it anyway): 
I am always happy to receive your stories, poems, artworks, and other creative endeavors. I am equally thrilled when I am allowed to share them with other readers. Please feel free to send along anything you’re proud of….DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com


See you soon, New York and Boston.
– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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New M/F Spanking Story: ‘PPT’ Contest



It never ceases to amaze me – the time and creativity undertaken by readers who decide to participate in the writing contests. I do sincerely hope to have each and every one of them over my knee…my way of showing gratitude. 


Here is another great entry from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Contest. In this (untitled) story, the boys finally turn the tables on us girls…


– Dana

*****



Robert and Carole had been friends virtually all their life. They had grown up in one of those affluent suburbs of Boston, where their existence as somewhat pampered and much-loved children of wealthy indulgent parents had given them both charmed upbringings. Now both 21 years old, they had just graduated from a Liberal Arts college in New England that was the preserve of well-to-do but not too clever students. At College, they had become inseparable and had decided during their final year to marry, immediately after their graduation. A lavish wedding ceremony had followed, set in the lush gardens of Carole’s parent’s mansion with the groom’s parents paying for a no-expenses spared honeymoon in Europe where the couple were to visit Paris, Vienna, Rome and finally, the South of France, staying in the best hotels throughout.

Clearly they had everything they could desire and Carole certainly knew it. As they travelled from Paris to Vienna and then on to Rome Robert saw a new side of Carole, one he had never encountered before. Carole was simply arrogant, speaking curtly and rudely to the hotel staff they met, however accommodating the staff were. Despite their youth and inexperience, nothing seemed good enough for Carole as she complained of inconsequential issues, the heat and lack of air-conditioning, the food, even the scratchiness of the bed linen. Robert became subdued as he discovered this new side to Carole, a side he had never really seen or experienced before – was his life going to be dominated by this bad-tempered young women?

As they sat under a blue umbrella, which Carole had insisted the waiter put up even though they were in the shade already, in a cafe some 50 metres from by the Trevi Fountain, Robert looked wistfully at many other couples who sat in a care-free manner by the fountain itself, flicking water to each other, laughing and joking. His new wife had already complained about her coffee which was too cold for her liking, ridiculing and insulting the poor waitress in the process. To make matters worse, Carole had rather theatrically poured the coffee onto the carpet requiring the waitress to get down on her hands and knees to clear up the mess as best she could. They now sat in silence as they waited for the replacement drink, the romance and sense of excitement at being at such an atmospheric place passing them by.

Carole became impatient and was about to call the waitress back to demand her coffee when a policeman, who had been sitting at one of the adjoining tables came over to them. He had witnessed the episode and said to Carole and Robert in broken English. “I see you didn’t like the coffee, come with me, I will ensure you will get what you deserve”. Robert and Carole looked at each other and then Carole smiled sweetly at the policeman “Thanks,  this cafe is lousy, it would be great if you could take us to a better place”. “It will be my pleasure” countered the policeman as they left the cafe and followed him around the corner to the building immediately behind.

“You will get the experience of your life” the policeman said as they were ushered through the door. As they entered the building, Robert sensed something was wrong – they were not in a cafe but what appeared to be the front room of a house. The room was sparsely furnished and in the middle stood a lone tall ladder-backed chair. Behind the chair stood the waitress and in her hand, a huge paddle. Carole and Robert looked at each other in atonishment. “What’s this all about” blurted Robert.

The policeman turned to Carole. “In my country, your behaviour is inexcuseable and punishable. Spilling the coffee with intent is criminal damage and you will be locked up in prison overnight and then deported. A report will be sent to the authorities in the US” Carole turned white, she realized immediately her predicament and started to both cry and scream “you can’t do this, you can’t do this, what will my parents think”. Turning to Robert the policeman continued “this is your fault, if you had controlled and disciplined your wife properly, she would not have behaved the way she did. In my country, husbands thrash their wives and I suggest you learn to do this yourself if you wish this matter to go no further”.

Carole, oblivious to the words the plooliceman had just said, continued to cry and scream directing her venom at Robert “do something, do something, get me out of here”. Robert looked at the policeman but instantly knew what he had to do. Approaching the waitress, he held out his hand and said “May I ?” as he took the paddle from her and grabbed hold of his wife with the other. Within a second, Robert was seated on the chair and had roughly pulled his wife over his lap. “What are you doing???” shouted Carole, “something I should have done days ago” as Robert took the hem of her skirt and lifted it up over her waist exposing her bottom. Immediately he started to thrash her.  “Stop it, stop it” shouted Carole as she tried unsuccessfully to wiggle off his lap, his hold around her waist tightening. The policeman looked on approvingly and gestured to her pants as Robert continued to paddle her. Robert stopped and quitely said to Carole “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress”? “No, I am not and just wait until I tell my parents”. With that Robert strengthened his hold and with his free hand pulled down her panties resuming the paddling on her bare bottom.

Robert was like a man possessed; in an instant he knew that this opportunity would be perhaps the only time he would be able to dominate his wife and teach her a lesson. As he thrashed her, his thoughts were on the future and how he wanted his life to be. He didn’t want to have a spoilt, bored wife but one who would enjoy life and everything that it had to offer. He knew that this lesson would teach her that life was about experiencing everything that was offered – even faulty air-conditioning, scratchy bed-lined and cold coffee and as he thrashed her, he willed her spirit to change.

At last he decided she had had enough and stopped. “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress?” he said in a soothing voice as he helped her off his lap. “I’m sorry blubbered Carole, my behaviour was wrong”. Everybody smiled, the lesson had been learnt and perhaps, just perhaps, Robert was going to have a great married life after all.


DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com  
 

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

New Dana Kane Video – Teaser!

It has been too long since he was spanked, and that was obvious today, as he just could not manage to stop giggling. This new tactic didn’t stop me from giving him a nice, hard hand spanking…followed by a little corner time. 
‘Laugh, Funny Boy…laugh’

I will post up the video soon as I’ve completed the encoding.  

– Dana




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