Jump to content

Leaderboard


Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation since 07/13/20 in all areas

  1. 11 points
    Well, I guess since you posted this publicly you're inviting comments. Mine goes to the "a woman should be obedient" remark. My version: "A woman should be what she wants to be." It makes my skin crawl when people use this wonderful kink to subvert consent and impose their tough manliness over other people. I should probably not bother because I won't be changing many minds, but sometimes I have to speak out. Women are not lesser creatures to be ordered around. Nor are men. If a woman chooses to submit and be obedient, then groovy. But to suggest you're inherently superior to "a woman" (do you men every woman on the planet?!) is icky and untrue. Carry on, and happy Friday to all!
  2. 7 points
    GOD BLESS YOU, StrictGent! YOU are the REAL MAN here. Hotseat4uNow and Chastener have now completely lost my respect. It has been my observation that men who try to dominate the (physically) weaker sex do so as a way of dealing with their own shortcomings and insecurities. Perhaps they feel a need to assert their dominance, but are unsuccessful in earning this respect amongst other men, so they target women, instead? I have no idea on these two characters, nor do I care. I am blocking both of them. But accolades to you, StrictGent, for being the strong, respectable man that you are.
  3. 6 points
    My bottom, ready as always
  4. 5 points
    There is no sleep as good as the sleep you get after a solid spanking. You cannot change my mind.
  5. 4 points
    I was starting my first year of University when I first met Francine Turner, an elegant and chic divorcee in her late sixties. We were connected through a host family program that the Uni had setup, which allowed me to stay with her rent-free. In return she said that she craved companionship since she was living on her own and described her house as an empty nest. I was immediately impressed with her natural beauty, reassuring demeanor and conversational skills which put me straight at ease even when I was feeling homesick. She was always going out to the theater, lunching with her friends and filling her days with wholesome activities. In the evening she preferred to surround herself with books and had amassed an enviable library of titles. I always felt like I was learning as much by living with her than I was with my studies. I could ask her for her opinion on any topic and she always had words of wisdom to impart on me. Truth be told I was slightly overawed by her raw intellect and charisma and longed to be like her. I'll always remember the day when my relationship with Francine changed forever. It started off as a normal evening sitting in the conservatory, Francine with her cup of tea on the table next to her and a book in her hand, wearing her reading glasses. We would normally chit-chat about all sorts of topics and I always learned a lot listening to her world views. Somehow we managed to get the topic onto today's youth and upbringing. "I'm not saying everything in the sixties and seventies was better than today, far from it" Francine said to me, turning over another leaf. "But I do think that people were generally better behaved and more curteous back then" she said dismissively. "It's impossible for me to say" I replied, putting down my phone. "Can it not be just rose-tinted spectacles?" "Could be..." Francine said, half-listening, and half reading the book. Francine looked at me over her glasses. "If you want my honest opinion, I think many children today would benefit from a good, hard smack now and again" she said, not mincing her words. Those words sent a shock up my spine. It was a topic I was always fascinated with and generally a taboo topic not spoken about so openly. At least not with people my age. I cleared my throat. "Uhm, well you could be right..." I said rather sheepishly. "In fact, I'm one of those kids who probably needed that growing up but never got it" I said opening up. Francine looked surprised. "Why do you say that?" she asked, genuinely interested. "You're smart, polite and well brought up in my eyes" she finished. I blushed a little, not used to recieving compliments. "It's not that, it's just that I don't think I apply myself well enough" I said with a sigh. "I know I'm capable of more, but I don't have the motivation." Francine put down her book. "Well maybe, but what can you do about it?" she asked me in a friendly way. "I think..." my heart started racing. "I think if I had consequences to drive me to study it would be enough." I looked down at Francine's legs, not able to meet her in the eyes. She was just about everything I wanted to be: elegant, educated, always well put together. Somehow she emitted an air of quiet authority and respect. I desperately wanted her to take me under her control and guide me. "I guess what I'm saying" I continued, wanting to blurt out the words and not have any regrets. "I would like it if you treated me as if I were a member of your family, and everything that is included with that..." Francine raised her eyebrows. "Do you mean what I think you mean..." she asked quietly. There was a long pause before I could spit the words out. "Yes..." I said to her, "even if that means taking a spanking." Francine took a sip from her tea and left me to digest the words I had said. She thought about it, and then she gave me her answer. "Ok Emily" she said, putting her hands on her lap. "I will treat you exactly as if you were my daughter. So let me set some boundaries." I waited with baited breath. "I will receive a copy of every exam result you sit, and if you get an A or a B, you'll get a reward" she stated. I nodded. "However, if you get a C, then I will ground you in your room." I noded again. "And, if you get less than a C, then you'll automatically get a spanking at home, no arguments" she said with authority. I gulped and nodded. "And finally, if there are some behavioural elements I feel deserve a punishment you can expect either to be grounded, or to get a mild smack, as appropriate." I wasn't sure whether to question that, but my curiosity required me to ask. "What do you mean by... mild?" "That means I'll smack you with an open hand, but not on the bare" she said pointedly. My head was spinning, could these words really be coming out of her mouth? I knew it was what I asked for but I was still shocked at how outright and direct she said it. It was mildly humiliating to be told in no uncertain circumstances that she would smack my bottom like a child at any moment she saw fit. I didn't have the courage to ask her right there what would happen to me for bad grades but I had to accept her rules. "Ok..." I said with a quiver in my voice. "I'll try my hardest not to earn a... you know." I blushed again. Francine nodded. She didn't want me to feel uneasy. "Oh and one last thing" she said picking up her book. "If I have to tell you off, or even punish you, you'll refer to me as Miss. Is that understood?" "Uhm, yes..." I said, "yes Miss." "Thank you. I'm glad we had this chat, now go to your room and study young lady" she said, putting her glasses on and resuming her reading. I was quite shocked to be sent to my room so matter-of-fact, but like we had agreed, I went off and did it, not wanting to fall at the first hurdle. Knowing there was a potential spanking involved gave me all the motivation I needed to get through the homework we had been assigned, although truth be told I was thinking more about our conversation than the lecture material. ---- It had been a number of weeks since that conversation and luckily nothing had happened in the intervening period to merit an awkward conversation. However, there was an inescapable atmosphere whenever studying or exams were mentioned. I had just finished a relatively insignificant exam for one class and nervously awaited the results. In any other year this would have been a non-event, except for the new-found importance attached to the results. The next day I returned home from my lectures and called out for Francine as I entered the corridor. I couldn't see her in the kitchen, but I did see a paper sitting on the table. My heart sank as I approached it, afraid of what the contents might be about. My intrepidation turned to pure panic and fear as I saw an unmistakable large "D" on the top-right of the paper. I went swiftly through to the living room to find Francine and found her sitting on a tall chair with a look which didn't need any explanation. "Uhm... hi, Francine" I said, putting down my bag. Francine looked at me with sterness and disappointment. Her silence was killing me. I waited for her to say her piece. "I take it you've seen the results on the kitchen table" she said, knowing the answer. I nodded. "I'm afraid you've left me with little choice here. I was hoping to enjoy your company this evening like we normally do, but instead there is a small matter of discipline we have to address first." I froze in my spot. Was this really about to happen? "I'm... I can explain-" I said, before being cut off. "No explanation is necessary" Francine snapped. "The results speak for themselves." Francine drew in a deep breath. "I need you to go to the kitchen right now and bring me the wooden spoon I use for the casserole" she said, before adding, "and no discussions. Take it and bring it to me here." I didn't know how to respond; I was literally speechless. Was I really about to get a spanking with a wooden spoon? I thought better than to argue with her and instead turned around and headed back to the kitchen. As I opened the cutlery drawer I found the unmistakably large wooden spoon Francine had referred to. It was always a heavy-duty tool but now I knew more of its history than I ever wanted to know. I stared at it for a few seconds wondering how much pain that thing would be applying to me in a matter of minutes. I didn't want to leave Francine waiting for fear of making things worse so I returned immediately back with it and handed it over to her without any resistance. "Good girl," Francine said as she took the implement. "Now, lay over my lap." As I did what I was told I then felt her neatly lifing my skirt up and tucking it into a roll. Then, as I lay there helplessly over her lap, I felt her pull my panties down as they dropped to my ankles, locking my legs together. She paused for what felt like an eternity, with my stomach turning and the apprehension growing. It's hard to describe all of the simultaneous emotions I was feeling with my bare bottom high up in the air. I've never felt so exposed, humiliated and submissive in my life. Right then I may as well have been just another a little girl about to get her backside spanked for being naughty. I didn't dare to move, although I'm not sure I would have been able to escape her tight grip even if I had suddenly changed my mind. Maybe that's why she waited so long before commencing my punishment; or maybe she wanted me to really feel the regret of the moment building. Either way, it was tremendously emabarassing to be taken across her lap so easily like I had done it hundreds of times before. Except, as we both knew, I had never in my life had so much as even a slapped hand, and here I was ready to receive a full-blown bare-bottom, over-the-knee spanking. I felt her loosen her grip and I wondered if she had second thoughts about whether to continue or not. Instead, to my chagrin I could tell that she was rolling up her sleeve and was confident enough that I wouldn't try to roll off of her lap. I could then feel her push my back again hard with her left hand to keep me firmly in place, as the spoon was lifted up high. Although it happened in a second, I remember instincively grabbing the chair legs and bracing myself for the impact. As the spoon landed sharply against my bottom I remember howling out at the intensity of the sting. It was excrutiating! And much more sore than I could have ever imagined. I gave up any pretence of being an adult and yelled out "Oww!" at the top of my lungs hoping for leniency. I often wonder what Francine must have been thinking as she saw me howling and grabbing the chair with my full grip. I wonder how many times in her life she had spanked someone before and whether it was really any different because of my age. I wonder if she looked at my despair and pathetic cries what she must have thought. I guess my reaction probably wasn't any different to anyone else in the same situation. Regardless, the next smack came down with exactly the same force on my other cheek, and the reaction was the same. I yelled out at the top of my lungs and kicked my legs to help reduce the pain. As the following smack landed on the first area I realised how unbelievably painful this spanking was going to get. I am not too ashamed to admit that I started begging to stop already at this stage. "I... I'm sorry" I cried, gasping for breath between smacks. "Please..." I pleaded, "I'll behave! I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be - waaaaah" as the next mighty slap cut off my begging mid-sentence. I squirmed and kicked my legs more. Francine reacted by raising her voice with a sterness and seriousness I'd never heard her use before. "Emily Baker!" she shouted, "stop kicking at once or I'll have to do this to you again tomorrow. Is that what you want?" "I..." I sighed. "No." "No, what?" Francine asked, lifting her hand holding the spoon up. "No miss" I said meekly. "That's better. Now we are going to finish your punishment and you're going to act your age." To my dismay, she brought the spoon down as hard as before with no let down in intensity. I started to cry openly. I'm not sure why it happened as I don't cry normally, but the feelings of humilation and sadness for what I had done, combined with the fire developing on my rear, were too much for me to cope with. As the spoon continued to hit me I started crying harder. It felt like an intensive release had been unlocked and I was soundly crying over her lap without restaint. I'm not sure at what point she had decided to put the spoon down but it was definitely noticeable that the sounds that she had switched to using her open hand to deliver the final few smacks. I don't know if it was her intention or she felt sympathy for me, but now I really felt about six years old being smacked like a child. I submitted to her discipline fully and instead of just crying I lifted my head up I said through tears: "I'm so sorry miss... I promise, I PROMISE I'll behave and I'll be a good girl from now on. Please stop I'm very, very sorry, please don't smack me any more." To my surprise, Francine ceased and let me simply lie there in the quietness of the room. I remember sobbing and then waiting obediently for her instructions, feeling sorry for myself. I could only feel the intense pain of my bottom raised still high up over her lap. "You know why you are here..." Francine scolded. I nodded my head. "You are here because you have disappointed not only me, but you've let yourself down. Instead of staying at home and studying for your exam, you were going out partying and ignoring your responsibilities. I'm here to tell you that so long as you are staying under my roof, this behavior won't be tolerated. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" I nodded again. "Yes... what?" Francine asked, challenging me. "Yes miss" I replied. "Don't forget your manners" she said, gently patting me. "Don't give me a reason to put you over my knee again" she said scoldingly. "No miss" I said, waiting to finally be allowed up. It was torturous being treated like this, but the time for acting like a grown-up was long past. I accepted my position and would say anything to be allowed to stand up again. Eventually she gave me permission to get off her lap and she had already pulled my knickers back up to preserve my modesty. I unscrunched the dress and looked at her through my bleary, tear-coated eyes. Francine lifted my chin up and had some comforting words to give. "Don't be sad, dear" she said in a calm voice. "You're a good kid, you just need a hand setting your priorities, and that's where I can help teach you." I sniffled a little bit and dried my eyes. "Thank you, miss" I said with a wry smile. "I promise I'll try harder." "I'm sure you will" she said, trying not to laugh. "Spankings tend to have that effect, and just remember what I told you about your grades. Any more bad grades, and you'll automatically earn yourself another dose of the spoon, so remember to study. Now, up to your room and I'll bring you dinner soon, does that sound good?" I nodded and went straight away without having to be asked twice. --- When I got to my room I took my dress off and removed the panties too, this time on my own. I went straight to the mirror to inspect the damage. To my surprise, my bottom was an angry shade of red, much darker than I thought it would be. Perhaps it was the obvious tan difference with my legs which attenuated the difference, but if anyone was to see me like this there would be no doubt that I had been very soundly spanked recently. I was enthralled by it. I spent the night thinking non-stop about the events that had unfolded and what my friends would think if they saw me. The thought was thrilling and frightening at the same time. I briefly considered phoning my best friend to confide in her, but thought better of it. God forbid any photographic evidence would get out into the world. I could only imagine the sheer horror of everyone in my classes knowing I had been soundly smacked the night before, and even worse would be again if I failed the class. Instead I resolved to keep the secret to myself, and the rest of the week sitting on my sore bottom during lectures was a lengthy but tantalizing reminder of my punishment. I was fortunate never again to get such a bad grade, but that doesn't mean I didn't get at least once one of Francine's promised "mild smacks." Luckily for me they were nothing in comparison to what I had earlier endured; just a short trip over her lap, pajamas down, and a couple of dozens smacks to keep me on the right path. I haven't seen Francine for several years, but I do keep correspondence with her from time to time. Although I do yearn for those days again, I am glad that I had the opportunity to experience life in a spanking household for half a year and it gives me a sense of perspective still today. I hope one day to marry a man who will help keep me in line like Francine did, but until then I'm left with my memories and the warm feeling of being cared about with loving discipline.
  6. 4 points
  7. 4 points
    I just finished the first 2 pages for chapter 3 http://spankingart.org/wiki/Rude_Rumps
  8. 4 points
    I wish to start a line of informed discussion that some people who lead well balanced every day lives, have a need for traditional discipline and corporal punishment as a norm in their lives.
  9. 4 points
    We were walking and i was acting up and had been warned a few times to straighten up, but I did not. At the next park bench, she sat down, lowered my pants and underwear and spanked me bare ass, OTK. I could see the feet of passers by, some paused to watch, others kept moving. New Yorkers are not surprised at anything. I admit this was years ago before everyone had a camera phone and felt compelled to document and report. It was more of live and let live then. Most likely you could not get away with it today.
  10. 4 points
    I delivered one in the parking lot at an ice rink while my son was inside at hockey practice.
  11. 4 points
    For me, spanking is not and never has been about discipline. Nonsexually, it relieves stress, and I do simply enjoy it. Sexually, when done in that context, it is a fetish and completely defines my sexuality. But putting aside those additional purposes, I am a born, hard-wired spanko. It is an innate part of me, something I need and crave simply because it is a part of who I am, no other reasons necessary for it. What I get out of being spanked is the fulfillment of a very real part of myself. It simply fulfills a personal need to be spanked, a part of me that longs to be fulfilled for its own sake. It might also relieve pent up stress or just be a fun activity. If done in a sexual context with a romantic partner, it might be satisfying in that way. But ultimately, what I always get out of it is a deep fulfillment of a part of myself that is simply there.
  12. 4 points
    A good spaghetti. Goes well with the wine and candles. And they can have a good spumoni for dessert. If your friend still wants to know, do the thing that spanko kids do so well: get out the dictionary and open it to that page. You'll see all the other sp words. Surely there's something you can convince her you meant....
  13. 4 points
    And now for a response that is completely different.... To me scolding or lecturing is a passive activity to be endured. In a disciplinary context i prefer a discussion where the spankee needs to an active participant. Instead of focussing merely on what they did I address the whys. Which decisions and choices lay behind their actions? What do those choices infer about their values and priorities? This discussion takes place during the spanking. Poor responses get harder strokes. Time and time again the spankee has to try and justify indefensible choices. This way, when faced with similar choices in the future, they recognize the pattern and learn to do better.
  14. 4 points
    Watch and feel your EE's body, and if they are still tense, keep spanking. The longer the EE cries, the more trapped feelings (guilt, stress, low self-worth, etc.) can flow to the surface and be released. But do lighten up, as the intensity at this point is no longer necessary. Even gentle swats will keep the tears flowing, which is what you want. Give the EE time to cry it all out, until he/she has had a good release. When your EE relaxes his/her muscles and goes kind of limp over your lap, take it just a little beyond that point, then stop.
  15. 4 points
    THANK YOU @StrictGent @Chawsee and @Naughtyboy50! I felt SO icky reading that first post, and you validated my feelings! If he wants to play "naughty girl needs to be taken in hand" as his kink, he should be doing that ONLY with people who consent to play the same way. Saying that out here in the general forum as if it were a fact of life forces people to participate in his particular brand of kink even if they don't want to. News flash: not all spankos share that particular kink! Some of us even find that kind of language triggering. I was torn between posting this or not, because if I post, I bump the thread, and it deserves to fall to the bottom. But, seriously, making people participate in your kink without their consent is a BIG wrong. Everyone on here should be fine with talking about spanking, but not everyone is fine with the same rationales for it. If you want to share your rationale, please acknowledge that it's the rationale you use in play. DON'T make it sound like a foregone conclusion!
  16. 4 points
    Totally agree with you both! Chawsee, excuse the pun, but you are one badass lady. Love hearing your perspective on things. NB
  17. 4 points
    Not to be difficult but I think a spanker who has (multiple!) fantasies about being spanked is, by definition, a switch. Feel free to correct me if that’s wrong.
  18. 4 points
    I am much the same as Pavium. Every 4 to 6 weeks or so I become completely overwhelmed with the need to be spanked. Apart from the fact that I have had an almost lifelong fascination with spanking, I have no idea where this need suddenly comes from. It is not because of something I have done. And it’s not because I have done something different or have not done for some time. And it’s not because I like or look forward to being spanked. It just happens right out of the blue and has to be resolved. The resolution is to be spanked. It is never immediate, but it comes. I do not look forward to it. I do not like to be spanked. I do not want to be spanked. It really hurts and I don’t like to be hurt. But it has to happen and, when the time does come and I am undressed and getting into position, the bottom falls out of my stomach. After it’s over – not immediately after, but later, I feel better and back to normal, until the next time.
  19. 3 points
    had it coming
  20. 3 points
    Rumors are horrible things to be spreading around. Rumor has it that I abused smeone. I want it known that I have never nor would I ever abuse anyone. It's not n my nature. If I ever hurt anyone I would be devastated. Before you go spreading rumors you may want to respectfully go and speak to the person first.
  21. 3 points
    And as if God said, Michgal, go on SN, here I am. Yes, as an ICU RN I can say this can be very dangerous to that area. The tissue/skin that comprises the vaginal wall, labia and clitoris are delicate and not meant to ensure that kind of contact. I don't know what the long term results could be, but your OB/ GYN could advise on that. Some dangers COULD be tissue damage that leads to infection, ( a lot of bacteria located in the periarea) necrosis, and creation of precancerous cells. Not telling you to not engage, but play safely and see your OB/ GYN regularly for check ups to avoid losing your clitoris/ labia from damage-related infections.
  22. 3 points
    To me the moment before tears is the most precious moment of the whole spanking. Of course there are worthy other contenders: being told I am due for a real one, corner before discipline, turning across as an act of willful submission, first stroke etc. But I love feeling the cry building, and I love holding it back, and I love promising myself that this time I will not cry, because I'm a big girl and big girls don't dry. And I tell myself that maybe a whole 20 seconds before it erupts. And them I'm there. Spanking orgasm. And since I'm crying I'm not such a big girl. And that feels marvelous. And so much emotion pours out of me. Then I promise with all my heart to be good. Then I feel good. Hope you are convinced. What is your favorite moment? Bye
  23. 3 points
    I haven't been very active on here for a long time...almost a year!! One of the big reasons is I've been working really hard on a new project...an autobiographical graphic novel about being a spanko! I've done 48 pages so far...up to age 11.... I'm planning to go all the way up to now...but it takes a loooooong time to illustrate (and I have a paying full time job too)...so I may be 90 by the time I finish I'm taking a bit of a break from it for a little while to recharge...before getting into the next part...including 6th grade and all that awkwardness Anyway I think some people on here will be interested in reading it...especially people with lifelong spanko interests.... I posted the first chapter on the spanking art wiki http://spankingart.org/wiki/Rude_Rumps A warning though...I was spanked as a child and there's quite a bit about that in my graphic novel because it influenced me as a spanko alot... Also it's not only about spanking and there's some other serious stuff like about depression and sexual abuse (not me but my friend)... So if stuff like that might trigger you (though it's not gory or anything) you might not want to read it...
  24. 3 points
  25. 3 points
    Debbie I met Debbie when I was in 9th grade. She was an awkward 7th grader, and just beginning to bloom into adolescence. She had a sparkle to her brown eyes and was friendly but not especially outgoing. We did time together in the junior high choir at the First Baptist Church in Dallas, where both of our families were regulars. We found out that we both lived in a fairly new neighborhood in North Dallas called Farmer's Branch. We became better acquainted on a choir trip to Austin one cold January day. We happened to sit together on the ride down, and after our recital at the UT Baptist Student Union, decided to stick together for the ride back. As night fell, we snuggled and cuddled but did little else. Although we clearly liked each other, she was, after all, in seventh grade and a 9th grade guy has his reputation to look after. So, we continued to chat in the hallways at church every so often, but didn't really become close. I went on to the high school choir and she was in the junior high group. I guess I didn't see her at all during my junior year. This changed the summer before I became a senior at WT White High School. The church had a special high school choir workshop at Baylor University in Waco for all high school choir members. Debbie was going to be a sophomore and had just graduated from junior high, putting us in the same choir again. I was now a senior, and had taken most of my required classes during summer school and had planned one last school year generally raising hell with my friends. My remaining courses were trivial and I had already been accepted into the University of Texas because of my SAT scores and high school grades. My parents had just bought me a new Trans-Am Firebird as an early graduation gift and I was photography editor of the school newspaper, so I had a pass to be out of class or away from school anytime that I wanted to be "on assignment." I didn't have a steady girlfriend and most WT White girls were either hippies or aspiring socialites chasing athletes. I had pretty much forgotten about Debbie until the bus trip. It was late July and surpisingly pleasant for a Dallas summer morning: it was a bearable 90 degrees and there was a bit of a breeze as storm clouds were threatening a late summer shower. As we milled around outside the downtown church preparing to board the bus, I caught sight of her. Could that really be Debbie? She had grown her dark hair long, grown several inches taller, and was perfectly proportioned. She was wearing a simple white cotton golf shirt with a short blue skirt looking like she had stepped out of the Neiman Marcus summer catalog. Her almond eyes still sparkled but there was a new budding sensuality to her gaze. I felt my knees go weak and my heart jumped into my throat. It was if the whole world became dim and she was drawing me to her with a powerful magnet that only the two of us could see. I quickly recovered and did my best to casually saunter over to her but I'm sure that it was more like a mad dash. "Hi," was all that I could get out. She almost laughed but smiled instead and gave me a hug. She smelled wonderful, like honeysuckle and roses combined. After a few minutes of somewhat awkward conversation, I asked her if she would like to sit together on the bus ride. She agreed and we began our official dating period under the cover of darkness on the ride back. We were inseparable from that day forward. A few weeks later, classes started and I'd wait for her to get out of school (I could leave early: journalism was my last class) and I'd drive her to her after school job at Poll Parrot chicken on Marsh Lane. Her parents thought she worked every day; actually she had Tuesdays off whenever she wanted. Our weekend dates were often with other friends. Sunday nights, we would sit together at church above the watchful eyes of parents who sat in pews downstairs while we retreated upstairs to the balcony. Sunday night church always included the direst warnings of fire and brimstone and admonitions against worldliness, favorite sins of Dr. Criswell were what he called "hippie conduct" involving drinking, drugs, and "fornication." Dr. Criswell looked like the Greek God Zeus. He towered over the congregation and bellowed out his sermons like a tinhorn dictator addressing the military. Of course, he avoided the sins that might lose donations among the wealth congregates like Mary Kay Ash and Ebby Haliday, the Dallas realtor. Business ethics and greed were seldom topics for moral outrage. After enduring this barrage, Debbie and I told our parents that we were going to Harvey Goff's hamburger joint on Forest Lane. Since I didn't have long hair, I was safe going there without being insulted unless Harvey was in particularly rare form. Sometimes we actually did stop by Harvey's, but we more frequently found ourselves speeding West out Valley View Lane to Northlake Park where there was a power plant cooling pond, few other cars, and a great getaway route. Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night," (which was reliably played every 90 minutes on Z-97) was our theme song, and we gradually became more bold in our mutual explorations. By Thanksgiving, Debbie was letting me take her bra completely off and feast on her firm, well-rounded charms. But that was pretty much where we stopped. Trans-Am firebirds are great for attracting attention but they leave plenty to be desired for budding romance. We were both eager to go further but were a little frightened of the experience and more than a little brainwashed by the long reach of Dr. Criswell: I think that we feared that somehow demons would visit unspeakable horrors on us should we cross the threshold from extreme frustration to actual fulfillment. Debbie's older sisters Sharon and Lynn came home from Baylor at Thanksgiving and changed the course of our relationship. Sharon was sociology major and had nearly completed a course on human sexuality. She and Debbie had a long talk that lasted most of the night on Friday. This was irritating at the time since we didn't go out but proved valuable in the near-term. Sharon told Debbie how wrong she had decided the teachings of the church were and how it was not only natural but healthy for her to begin sleeping with me if she was ready. I didn't realize it, but Debbie was already suffering a good bit of guilt from what we were doing and even more from what she wanted us to do. That Sunday night, she said that she might be willing to slowly proceed in the direction that I had been begging. She started hinting that she might have a Christmas present for the two of us. The next few weeks passed quickly with less time for experimentation. We both had church choir Christmas concerts and my parents insisted that I go on our annual ski trip to Red River over Christmas. So, our present had to wait. Christmas came and went and we finally arrived back in Dallas on about January 3rd, a few days before school started. Debbie was pretty busy with her family and had gone to visit her grandparents in Mineral Wells, a few hours away by car. She finally returned a few days before school resumed. In a long phone conversation, we had decided that next week would begin our next step on the journey to adulthood. Debbie's parents were conveniently gone during the day and her older sisters were both away at Baylor again after Christmas. Her father was corporate counsel for First Interstate bank, a 25-minute commute down the North Dallas Tollway those days and he was never home before seven. Her mother was a flight attendant for a fledgling enterprise called Southwest Airlines that flew only between Dallas Love Field and Houston's Hobby airport. Her regular schedule had her working four days per week from Tuesday to Friday from 8 AM to 6 PM. Neither of them would have welcomed Debbie entertaining boys in her room when they were absent and even the suggestion that young love had been developing in the house could have had dire consequences. Fortunately, Debbie's house was in the estate area of Farmer's Branch and had a furnished pool house that had evolved into a sort of teen-agers' living room and was pretty much forgotten by everyone-except us. It had a phone extension, parking in the alley and shuttered windows that provided a view of the pool, the house, and driveway and even had a rear entrance off the alley. Perfect. She planned to take off from Poll Parrot the first Tuesday after school started and we would proceed to the pool house for a long afternoon. I had never wanted Christmas vacation to end so badly! Tuesday afternoon's sky was mostly clear with a pale yellow winter sun hanging low in the sky and warming the WT White parking lot to a habitable 50 degrees. After a short wait, Debbie emerged from the East entrance: she had never looked more radiant. Dressed in a short red leather skirt with dark stockings, dark pumps and a beige ribbed wool sweater, she had her long dark hair pulled back and tied with a beret. After jumping in the car and giving me a peck on the cheek, she pulled the beret out and shook her hair loose and kissed me for real. Her smile conveyed that we were still on and I used every bit of self-control to keep from giving the speed trap cop on Marsh Lane a reason to stop me beside the fact that I was a kid driving a Trans-Am. After what seemed like hours, we arrived at the back of the pool house. We tiptoed in the gate and were greeted by her Collie, Ginger, the only creature stirring: the neighborhood would be deserted for at least two more hours. We checked the garage: it was empty; the house silent. I followed her through the pool house door, blocked Ginger's entrance with my foot, closed the door and turned the lock. Debbie lit a candle and arranged herself at one end of the six-foot leather couch. I switched on Z-97 and, like clockwork, Rod Stewart crooned out, "take off your shoes and sit right down." I joined her on the sofa and started one of the most natural kisses that we had ever shared. I was so determined to treat her with respect that she became impatient and slid her sweater over her head and waited. I gingerly reached back and un-clasped her bra and kissed her again. Then, I took a second to just admire the artistic beauty of the sight of her. Her long dark hair perfectly framed her beautiful young face and decended to rest on the tops of her impeccable breasts. The yellow afternoon sun filtered in through the bamboo shades on the west side of the room and splashed over her erect nipples in bas-relief. I almost cried from the sight. Wasting little more time, I began worshiping her nipples with my tongue and sucking them to an even more erect state. She began cooing and actually began un-fastening her skirt then slid it off. She was wearing dark pantyhose and was now the closest to being undressed that I had ever seen a woman. I had read plenty of Penthouse letters and had studied my brother's copy of "The Sensuous Man," but was more than a bit nervous when confronted with a real performance. I was not prepared for the amount of passion that burst forth from this normally reserved girl as I began applying my beginner's oral techniques to the new territory that she had presented, first through her panties, then removing them. I guess that she was happy because I was able to bring her to orgasm quickly. After she had finished, she helped me off with my jeans and barely touched me with her hand when the inevitable happened. "Wow, this is so cool," she cried in response. I was prepared for a far worse reaction. Debbie had lots of virtues: patience and tolerence of my inexperience among them. So began a series of meetings in the pool house. I lived for Tuesday afternoon, and started playing Days of Future Past just to hear the song. But like all stories like this, there was the other side of the story. Debbie started having quiet and somber moods. She wanted to give in to my pleas to experience actual intercourse, but still felt guilty. And Dr. Criswell's sermons on fornication and adultery didn't help any. Fortunately, I was able to convince her that since we weren't really having intercourse that this was not fornication. I prided myself in my persuasive ability and had already decided on law school by that time. Despite the solidness of my logic, I could tell that there was a terrible struggle going on inside this wonderful young woman. At times, I actually thought that I would be doing the best thing for both of us if we broke up. I even broached the subject and she burst into tears because she thought that I didn't want her any more. I was sure not ready to handle something like this. So, we continued with the stormy clouds of her guilt popping in and out for several months. I must confess that I had been harboring a secret and growing desire to spank her. Letters in Penthouse dealing with spanking gave shape to my rather primal thoughts and preoccupations with female bottoms. I had even thought about being on the receiving end if Debbie was wielding the paddle. But I never really had the nerve to mention them to Debbie in a sexual context. She had told me that her parents had spanked her up until grade school and that she hadn't had one since. Her paternal spankings were never on the bare and there was nothing abusive about her father but he was thorough and applied a wooden clothes brush to her jeans-clad posterior while holding her firmly over his lap. The last counseling session had been years ago when she was in fourth grade. She couldn't even remember what she had done but could talk at length about how close to him and totally free from guilt she felt when it was over. He cuddled her and she cried into his white dress shirt for a long time after her spanking and he dried her tears and took her out for ice cream. One beautiful late April afternoon found us gazing out at the scarlet blooming azaleas across the pool after a particularly passionate Tuesday session. With no warning, she started sobbing and saying how bad she was and that she needed some way to resolve her guilt. I'm still not sure if this was a set-up or not. After I got her a Dr. Pepper and settled her down a bit, Debbie started talking to me about how she might deal with her guilt and wondered if she should talk to the youth leader at church (a bad idea) or even her parents (a much worse idea.) I was so shocked at the latter suggestion that I blurted out, "What would your parents do if you told them?" She wondered if she would get a spanking. It was funny but I sensed that she didn't really dread this punishment and her mood lifted quite a bit. I asked her to describe it and she had a fair amount of the details ready. She talked again about how clean she felt after a spanking from her father, as if she had a fresh start. This was what I later learned to call "a defining moment." I swallowed hard, clenched my fists and managed to haltingly ask, "What if I spanked you?" She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and almost pleaded, "Would you really do that for me?" Mustering all of the resources I had, I answered, "Yes, but I think it would really need to hurt a bit if it was to work." Debbie vigorously nodded and told me to stay put and that she'd be right back. I watched her gorgeous form dance around the pool and into the white brick mansion's back door. She returned just a few moments later carrying her purse. When she dashed through the door, she produced her father's clothes brush from her handbag. It was quite a weapon: it was made of rosewood and was about 10 inches long, 2 inches thick, and 5 inches wide. The wide part of the back was a matte patina, suggesting natural polishing from being used on Debbie and her two sisters regularly in years' past. She blushingly handed the brush to me without speaking, lowered her eyes to the floor, and waited. I gently took her by the arm and led her to the sofa. She surprised me by dropping her jeans to her ankles first, then lowering her panties. I had put my briefs back on which did little to conceal my reaction to her positioning her beautiful bottom across my lap. I started slow and easy. After ten or fifteen half-hearted swats (after all, I loved this girl and didn't want to hurt her), she turned around and said, "John, you really need to make me feel this so that I'll know I've been punished." I picked up the pace and started to put my arm into it. Her skin began to turn pink as she gripped the arm of the sofa and started moaning into the cushion. I kept at it and her moans turned to yelps and finally sobs. But she never tried to get away or resist, although I thought that she was going to claw a hole in the leather arm of the sofa. All at once, she went totally limp. I kept up the spanks for a few more seconds until I noticed that my leg was dripping wet and that she was almost sliding off my lap. It took me a moment to even realize what had happened. I stopped the spanking and started gently rubbing her now deep scarlet bottom. She gradually turned over and gave me the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced. And after a few minutes, I would no longer get to use the argument that we had not actually fornicated. But I didn't need it any more. From then on, Debbie was often spanked as a prelude to our loving. And I'm not embarrassed to say that I felt the sting of her father's brush on my own bottom every once in a while and found that I wasn't quite as tough as I thought I was. Her years of tennis had equipped her with far more than enough strength to reduce even a cocky guy like me to a whimpering boy. But that's another story. I'd like to be able to tell you that I married Debbie and that she is still receiving discipline and occasionally handing it out to me. In fact, I think of her every time I hear Don Henley sing, "I'm driving by your house, Lord knows, you're not home." I sometimes turn my 911 down Marsh Lane across Valley View (taking care to observe the speed limit,) turn into her old neighborhood and cruise down the alley. The pool house is still there and the azaleas even bloom red in April. But Debbie lives in London with her ambassador husband and her parents have moved away. The details of our drifting apart are familiar themes to young lovers: different colleges, different career goals, and different family expectations. But I'll always cherish the memories of her allowing me to share in her wonderful life and for showing me what a gift that love and spanking shared by two lovers can be.
  26. 3 points
  27. 3 points
    It's been with me forever too...I have memories going back to 3 or so...lying in bed and making up stories to myself about spanking...and this was before I have any memories of actually being spanked... My parents did spank me when I was a bit older...probably between 5 to 10 or so...but that wasn't unusual at all in the 70s when I grew up...and they weren't excessive about it or anything...so I don't think that caused it...I truly believe I was born this way... But I've always been obsessed with how my spanko feelings developed and grew... So obsessed I started creating a whole graphic novel about it... It's over 50 pages so far and I'm still at age 11
  28. 3 points
    I was walking with a GF in a antique store. We went to the basement and I found a display of wooden spoons. I of course tried out the one on her ass before we decided to get it. When we went upstairs to the register, the clerk said, Did you find one that works? As she grinned we saw the display banks of camera monitors. I responded, sure did and there was a giggle..
  29. 3 points
    I was about to send a business associate a screen shot recently when I noticed at the last minute that the preceding tab on the top of the page read "General Spanking Discussion" as I was obviously reading a post from this forum previously. I adjusted the screen shot before sending it but it would have been interesting to see how the recipient - who is actually a good looking young businesswoman - would have reacted.
  30. 3 points
    I am a heterosexual male and I am corrected by another heterosexual male. There is nothing remotely sexual: it is a mentoring relationship. I am corrected in a very traditional manner with a rattan cane. That's how I was dealt-with as a teen at home and at school..... always by another male. It therefore feels "right" to be caned for my transgressions in a similar manner.
  31. 3 points
    As someone who works in the service industry and sees how many people choose to ignore mandates and not wear masks...and as someone who has the unfortunate task of having to make sure customers wear their masks in our place of business...I agree 100%. And something extra should be added for those who then choose to be rude to the employees who have to enforce that (who are simply following company policy based on mandates...none of which they have any personal control over). If we don't follow mandates, we can lose our business license. Be considerate, wear a mask...and even if you disagree with policy, be nice to the employees you encounter who must politely enforce that policy (which again, they have no control over). Just be a decent, considerate human and respect other humans. It's not that difficult.
  32. 3 points
    .....gets you SPANKED! Spanked to the point you dread having to sit.😡😡 Masks are essential for protecting EVERYONE. That means YOU and ME! So...PUT IT ON!!!😡😡😡 Thank you...😊
  33. 3 points
    I have to admit I don't get this "it's my right not to wear a mask." I mean, yeah...I guess so. I guess its your right to smoke, do heroine, not wear your seat belt, as well - but all that is also pretty stupid too. ...and then when I hear, "its my body, its my right" Im like really?? Are you equating not wearing a mask to the right to have access to abortion, because that is the origin of that phrase?? Really?? O-o I mean, "rights", ummmm, like the big ones are fought for, like for years. Think John Lewis - now he fought for something BIG. Not wearing a mask?? ...like this is a litle "inconvenience", more than a right - I mean...it pales in comparison. ...and for many of us, its 20 - 30 minutes in the store, you wear a mask, its a little sweaty, a little uncomfortable - I mean I don't like it, but I do it to be...part of the solution - we are not spreading the virus and if we all did it, then we would beat it. Then you compare our little inconvenience to doctors, nurses, orderlies, etc who are wearing a mask for 7+ hours. They get rashes after that amount of time. ...and then you have people protesting wearing a mask for 20/30 minutes ...Im just left with...really? Pretty self centered and ill-informed - anyways, that's how it looks to me...
  34. 3 points
    Hello all, my name is Andy. I'm 56 and live in Central Jersey. I'm asking for some advice. I've been into spanking since grade school. I'm also into discipline in other forms and regression therapy. I like to be any figure you want and fantasize about getting spanked by. My fantasy is to simply give an old fashion and embarrassing spanking to a woman. After all... embarrassment is half the punishment. Even though I'm on this site I can't seem to find anyone within a 1000 miles of Jersey. It's almost like I'm the only spanker/spankee in the state of New Jersey. Can anyone please advice me on where I can meet someone locally...under a 1000 miles lol Thank you and spank on!
  35. 3 points
    To me........ there are two major and very different types of spanko: - SPANKING FETISH: those who love spanking because there's just something about the bottom, and bottom pain, that is so thrilling and endlessly delicious. - PUNISHMENT FETISH: those who love things like control, behavior modification, etc. and when combined, they can and do find that they really aren't on the same wavelength and don't resonate with each other. Then within each type it would subdivide into the benefits that it brings the person. - EROTIC: it brings sexual pleasure - NON-EROTIC: non-sexual reasons such as ridding of guilt, stress relief, feeling being looked after, stopping bad habits, cultivating good habits, etc. and so, similarly, two people may get together and be interested in completely different things. And lastly, if EROTIC, then it divides into if the spanking play actually includes any sexual activity to or is it strictly done in a platonic mode (i.e. where nothing like sexual touching occurs during play, however the platonic participants still do it because of the erotic appeal of it and they do get sexual pleasure for example by fantasizing about it beforehand or going home and pleasuring themselves afterwards thinking about it, or things of that nature. Spanking parties are an example: all play is platonic there (sexual activity being a huge no-no at the party), but of course many attendees are in the EROTIC category). The general topic how to being more success in finding compatible playmates and/or discussion of what kind of play to do together was what brought this to mind. Also perhaps how to cause a person seeking a potential playmate to be more confident they knew that it would be a good experience and therefore result in more people trying to get together rather than getting cold feet. If it was more routine for each person to identify clearly i) what type they are and, additionally, ii) what types they are willing to be for the other person (and the remainder would then identify the types they refuse outright). as well as clearly if they (i) ARE or (ii) ARE NOT currently looking for a playmate / partner. Imagine a spanko matchmaking site that allowed one to specify these things and do a search for what you were looking for and/or be found by those who were searching for what you like too. Examples of confusion and undesireable outcomes that would be avoided by this would be: - people who want to explore a PUNISHMENT FETISH experience but get SPANKING FETISH experience instead. Or vice versa. - people who seem to be ruling out EROTIC without being clear if what they mean is "I WANT PLATONIC PLAY" or do they mean "I WANT NON-EROTIC PLAY". By the same token, some who are very open about how they find it EROTIC, but are being ruled out because it gives the impression that they wouldn't be perfectly happy to engage in platonic play - when in fact they would. Just some thoughts. P.S. To make things more complicated I think these are not "either" / "or " categories. In fact a person can be a combination of each, depending on mood, e.g. 80% SPANKING / 20% PUNISHMENT 70% EROTIC / 30% NON-EROTIC and of course the extent to which a play session can be "sexual" is a sliding scale from, for example, allowing some caressing of the bare bottom, all the way up to fondling of erogenous zones or beyond.
  36. 3 points
  37. 3 points
    My heart is on the mend. Hasn't been easy. Every now and then I still find myself wiping a tear off my face. I'm so grateful to those who have been kind in showing their support. Today, I had a conversation with myself. My mind: "Why the hell are you sitting here crying for this daddy type ER who walked away?" My heart: "Because I miss him!" My mind: "Do you see him crying? Do you think he's missing you?" My heart: "Well...no...I've seen him being himself. He's clearly moved on." My mind: "You should do the same." I'm doing it. I've stopped crying. Baby steps....but I'm moving on.
  38. 3 points
    I spanked My Wife at My Club in London during Afternoon Tea a few summers ago !
  39. 3 points
    Scolding calmly, purposefully; raising her skirt, lowering panties, spanking firmly.
  40. 3 points
    Welcome to the site. I know many of you are new and looking for a spanking partner. I also know it probably took you a lot to join and say hello. So, congratulations. Now, assuming you are about to post a message that goes something like “looking for someone to blister my bottom in ny.”, May I make a suggestion? if you are a woman, you will get lots and lots of people telling you that they will drive to wherever you are and do whatever to you they want to do, but maybe not what you want done. If you are a man, you’ll probably be ignored. If you post this in the middle of a discussion thread, someone (maybe me) will tell you to move it back here. So what do you do? Let me just tell you what’s worked for many here. I’m not looking for someone and I’m here just for the company and maybe because I could help someone. But, I’ve been in your spot before. Here’s one way to do it. First, this is sort of like most other things that are worthwhile. It’s not going to happen overnight unless you get very, very lucky or you’re a woman and willing to be spanked by anyone. So patience is the most important thing. What now? Scroll through these topics and find something that interest you. Then ask a question of someone. Something like, “John, what an interesting comment you just made on the kind of paddle you use. I wonder if you could tell me more about how you picked that paddle and what matters to you.?“ Do that at least 10 times on 10 different subjects until you get to know people. At some point, you’re going to get an idea of who we are and how all of us are different. There are a few of us who check in here every day and a few more who lurk and every once in a while say something. I have known more than one person who’s met lots of partners here but only after they form relationships and mostly ask questions of others. People love to talk about themselves. Finally, be honest and complete in your profile. Don’t say you live on Mars. Put your state and city down. List your age. Fill out your profile. If someone gets curious about you, they will look you up before they send you a message. I can promise you from my conversation with my friends here in private, that when someone reaches out, they will not even respond if the person hasn’t filled out their profile. Yes, I know you’re going to have to swallow hard before you do this, most likely. I also know that you’re probably afraid someone in your location is going to figure out who you are. I can almost guarantee you that no one will identify you . There are so few people in the spanking and so few people looking at this site that unless you live in a town with 30 people and you’re the only 39-year-old, no one will ever Identify you. I’ve given out enough information here over the year that I could certainly be identified if someone knew me. It’s not gonna happen. Nobody I know is reading this damn thing and if they are, why are they here? They’ve got the same problem I have. They are not wanting to be discovered. It’s not like you’re posting on Facebook. I hope that was helpful and I hope others who have connected here or other places can give you advice. Just ask for advice. Ps This is the friendliest online group I’ve ever been involved with and if someone gets out of line, the moderators will get rid of them very quickly. I guess that’s the last thing I should say. If somebody does something inappropriate, please reach out to Shygurl, the moderator. She will make quick work of them, I promise.
  41. 3 points
    @Longtimespanking said it well. I know how urgent this need can feel, trust me. Just exercise caution over impulsivity. Interview each potential "daddy" in depth. Ask spankers about their discipline philosophy, approach to headspace (ie. how they're going to treat you), the techniques they use with their hand and/or implements, how they gauge when the spanking has gone far enough, etc. Then LOOK for red flags, things that don't sit right with you, inconsistencies in their stories, etc. You'll have a calm, sure gut feeling when you've found the right one. Read stories in the Safety section to reinforce why you're holding out for someone trustworthy.
  42. 3 points
    Thank you everybody for your VERY kind words!! It means alot to me!! I'm glad my stuff has resonated with you in some way I just started working on the next chapter...I'll probably post a few pages at a time as I get them done instead of waiting for the whole thing...I'm curious what you'll think of the next part!!
  43. 3 points
    Wow. Finally, someone with common sense!! Thanks for this amazing post, StrictGent. I've seen so many posts over the years in different sites which make this blatant assumption in the name of "belief" that " women *must/should* be......" At first , I used to be extremely angst about the idea of even thinking of such concepts. As time went by, I just started laughing at it, because, more often than not, such posts were generally from fake profiles who wanted to have some fun with their fantasy. That said, considering there is contact information given with the post, I'm assuming it is a real person. And that fact makes it even more worse. Many of the dominants forget that submission is a choice, not an order or something to bring about by force. Nevertheless, thank you standing up to say what you said.
  44. 3 points
    Let me third this. I’m so offended by these two guys I can’t even think of anything to say. Also blocking them.
  45. 3 points
    The brat in me wants to say "Don't you mean too" but my bruised bottom is telling it to shut up 😏
  46. 3 points
    There isn't a huge difference between sex and sexual gratification through spanking, that is true. But there is domd difference, at least for me. I'm not hyper-rationalizing so much as this is just my natural preferences. I didn't think much of them, it just felt like how it should naturally be for me. I think the difference for me is that for me, even sexual spanking is very non-erotic in tone and not overly exposing physically. I don't get turned on by blatantly sexualized spanking, so even sexual spanking wouldn't include unnecessary nudity or exposure or overtly sexual tones. Because if it did, it wouldn't be a turn on anymore. So being spanked for sexual gratification by a partner before marriage would still mean not seeing me nude, as little exposure to my private areas as possible, and absolutely no touching of those areas, etc. I would still be preserving that modesty. I am exposing a deep, personal part of me, but the physical intimacy in that way and exposure is still more limited. So that is why I am ok doing it in a committed relationship, even if prior to marriage. On the other hand, sex requires blatant use and exposure of our private areas, nudity, the overtly sexualized tone of the moment...because it is sex. To expose myself in that way physically to someone, to engage in actual intercourse, I would only be ok doing that if I were married. Even though I have no personal interest in it, it still has that natural magnitude to it that I wouldn't give to someone I wasn't married to, because I would only be ok physically exposing myself so intimately to that one person I marry. Because spanking is only sexual if there is that attraction in a relationship, and it is otherwise nonsexual for me, and because it never involves that same level of physical and sexual exposure and vulnerability to another person, that magnitude to me is slightly less than that of sex. Hence why naturally for me, spanking for sexual gratification has a little less restriction than sexual intercourse. Maybe it seems contradictory to some people, but it's just my preferences and how I feel about those acts. Sex and spanking, even when both done for the same purpose, are very different acts, one inherently more physically exposing, vulnerable, and blatantly sexually intimate than the other, at least for me. So they require slightly different commitment levels for my willingness to engage. I hope that adequately answers your question.
  47. 3 points
    Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. Let’s parse apart this story here. Water flows downhill, not up. The place to fetch it, if the well was dug where it’s naturally suitable for a well to be, would be down the hill. So what were Jack and Jill really going up the hill for? “To fetch a pail of water,” the lads at the tavern said, with ribald laughter and winks and nudges. “She’ll break his crown, all right!” the washerwomen at the stream said with the same laughter and winks. You see, “to break one’s crown” was once slang for losing one’s virginity. And “fetch a pail of water,” well, the context should tell you what that meant. Jack and Jill were not, contrary to what the storybook illustrations would have you believe, children. They were not brother and sister. They were not related at all. Good thing. This is not an incest story. No, Jack was a young man of the village, who’d gotten concerned that he was missing out, seeing as how he’d nearly reached the age of one-and-twenty and was still a virgin. Jill was the very lass to help him out with that problem. She was scarcely any older than he was, but she had a big heart and, while she preferred not to be tied down to any man, she loved all the activities a woman could get up to with a man, if he was willing. So when Jack fell down and broke his crown, no harm was done him. And when Jill came tumbling after, she showed him what he’d been missing and then some. It surpassed his wildest dreams. Then up Jack got and home did trot, As fast as he could caper, To Old Dame Dob, who patched his knob With vinegar and brown paper. Some say this part of the rhyme was invented to sanitize the tale. Vinegar and brown paper was the icepack of old. Brown paper was a thick kind of paper that did not fall apart when soaked, and vinegar has antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties. Put that on a bruise, and it would help the healing. Often done for children who’d bumped their heads. But here’s what really happened: Jack got concerned, once the deed was done, that Jill might have given him something, seeing as how she’d gotten around. There was no HIV back then, but there were plenty of other nasty diseases that spread the same way, and since cheap, comfortable condoms had yet to be invented, post exposure prophylaxis was the way to go. Old Dame Dob was the village midwife. A midwife’s job was not just birthing babies, but taking care of everyone’s health, reproductive and otherwise. She knew what to do for a man who’d just potentially been exposed. Vinegar’s antiseptic properties could theoretically work against syphilis or gonorrhea or other great scourges (but don’t use it instead of medical attention, please!) and if that was what you had, that was what you tried. (Jill was not as concerned, because she knew how to protect herself: she inserted half a lemon before the act. That’s actually not uncomfortable, and modern research suggests that it may very well be effective against both STDs and sperm.) And no, in case you haven’t already figured it out, it was not the head on Jack’s shoulders that needed patching. When Jill came in, how she did grin To see Jack’s paper plaster, Mother whipped her across her knee For causing Jack’s disaster. Jill did think it was hilarious when she saw what Jack had done to himself. But what’s this nonsense about Mother? These were not children. No, Jack spanked her and whipped her himself. Across his knee, for starters. Then in every position every which way from Sunday and with every implement he could think to try. He scolded her for laughing at his disaster and for making it necessary to see the midwife in the first place, which made Jill laugh all the more, between her yells of pain and ecstasy… and suggest what implement her naughty bottom deserved next. But soon Jack had to save his breath and his strength for attending to Jill and her naughty bottom, which was turning nicely red and striped. And Jill was experiencing such ecstasy as never before. She came so many times that Jack had to pause just to let her breathe. Now Jack did laugh and Jill did cry But her tears did soon abate, Then Jill did say that they should play At see-saw on the gate. No one had ever spanked Jill to tears before. Even now, she only cried a little, at the end, and that only because the last flurry of whacks came so fast. But when they were both spent from that, Jack felt a stirring in his groin again, and figured that since he’d applied the vinegar so recently, it would probably keep him safe enough for another go. And Jill’s orgasms had only been the beginning. Feeling the soreness and stripes on her bottom, pressed against Jack, excited her all the more. I will leave it to your imagination, dear reader, what position “see-saw on the gate” was. You may be more creative than I.
  48. 3 points
    FLRs (female-led relationships) are quite common in the spanking and larger BDSM communities, and they are just as prone to an abuse of power as are male-led relationships. I have personally stumbled upon some FLR websites where women in this lifestyle shamelessly promote demeaning treatment toward, and even cruel domination over, male submissives. Women are every bit as capable of egoic power trips as are men. I see no benefit in searing the opposite sex with remarks against their gender. The majority of men I've known are polite, respectful, and more than willing to be honest, trustworthy friends. Sometimes what we decide about people is what we experience in our interactions with them. I do agree with your concern about individuals giving away their power to their partner. This can have unfortunate consequences. Yet I don't want to insinuate that all DD relationships share the same challenges. Some are constructed conscientiously, and are very loving and supportive, bringing to the submissive the sense of being cared for and protected. So when I express my concerns about this lifestyle, I'm also aware that every pairing has a different dynamic, and the challenges some DD couples set up for themselves would never be an issue for other DD couples.
  49. 3 points
    Yes! You're referring to a co-DD arrangement. This is what actually appeals most to me. The famous old Spencer Spanking Plan was a perfect example. Balanced, fair, and both people get spanked. Heaven on earth!
  50. 3 points
    I like it alot when a spanking starts on my panties and then progresses. In a strange way getting spanked on my underpants is more evocative and embarrassing than on my bare bottom...it may have something to do with how I was spanked as a child. I confess I've always had kind of a thing for underwear...I think it really sets the mood especially for ageplay or roleplays... It can also just be fun! I once got a bunch of pairs of plain bikini ones and wrote little sayings on them with fabric markers like 'needs a good spanking' and 'bad girl'. My partner was quite amused
×
×
  • Create New...