PUKSC I want someone to spank me. Please spank me and cane me. Make me wear suspenders and stockings. Undress me and remove my knickers. Parade me in scanty underwear, abuse and tease me.

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I have female fantasies, Strip me and make me pose and model. Make me take a punishment and humiliate me. Spank me, I want to be spanked until I cry, Put me over your knee.

CHAPTER SIX - A FORMIDABLY DOMINANT LOVER (part two) "Roderick!" I squealed, my face burning with embarrassment. "My dear girl, it may need some medical attention...heaven knows what damage that brutal flogging may have done to it!" he concluded, authoritatively and with aplomb - as though the baring of my bottom in his presence were a perfectly normal and everyday occurrence! "Oh no - Roderick, please!" I wailed in alarm, but already he was doing the job for me, untying the drawstrings at my waist with nimble skill, so that my dainty white cambric drawers fell rustling to my ankles. Next he seated himself on a velvet padded chair near the bed and drew me firmly across his knee as though I were his naughty girl whom he was going to discipline. Completely taken aback by his briskly confident handling of my half naked body I managed to splutter out: "Oh wh-what are you doing to me?" "Please don't be alarmed, Ellen," came his calm self-assured voice from somewhere above me. "I have put you into this seemingly disciplinary posture solely in order to make your bottom accessible for examination - nothing more." I was too dumbstruck - and far too embarrassed - to make any reply whatsoever. I lay helplessly upended over his lap, the blood rushing to my temples and my long chestnut hair trailing in my eyes. My nose was inches away from the Persian carpet and I had to brace my body with my hands lest I toppled to the floor. "Why, my poor Ellen," Roderick murmured hoarsely, almost choking on the passion which the sight of my naked bottom was arousing within him, "you suffered a very cruel birching indeed!" He traced with his trembling fingers the dull mottled pattern of fading birch weals. "Thank God your adorable bottom has sustained no permanent harm," he added with a sigh of relief, "and in a week or so it will be quite restored to its former unblemished glory!" His hot hands, shaking with barely suppressed excitement, roamed hither and thither over the smooth round cheeks of my bottom - wreaking havoc with my dignity and self composure. The humiliation of being thus revealingly draped over my lover's knee made me feel almost sick with a wild intoxicated trepidation. "Please, Roderick, let me get up, this is so shamefully indecent!" I panted blushingly, thinking it only proper that I should make at least a show of protest. But it could not have sounded very convincing because, if anything, he became even bolder and began slapping me lightly, first on one buttock and then the other, saying; "Is this painful, Ellen? Be honest with me, for I need to know so I may diagnose the severity of the bruising." I told him the truth, or rather part of it, that the gentle teasing taps of his palms against my bottom were not causing me any pain - although of course I omitted to mention how unbearably aroused the slapping was making me become. He started to smack me harder - almost spank me: "....to improve the circulation of the blood around the bruised regions of the flesh.." or so he told me. This caused me to moan and wriggle involuntarily - and as I wriggled I again felt his great stiff weapon pressing up urgently against my belly. He kept reassuring me and telling me excitedly what a pretty bottom I possessed, how much he loved it, how he would never knowingly injure it or do it harm - and how healthily beneficial it was for a lovely young girl like me to have her bottom thus spanked until it was pinkly glowing all over. "Stop...oh my goodness, Roderick...oh please stop!" I wailed, acutely conscious of how wet I was becoming - and terribly anxious that he should not discover my shameful lubricity...yet at the same time secretly hoping that he would. And he did. After his strong muscular palm ceased to fall upon my hot, throbbing bottom he turned his attentions to a lower, even more shamefully intimate area of my person - my tingling little clitty, which he stroked and tickled so thoroughly that I sobbed with guilty delight and commenced to rub and grind my tormented pubis up and down on his greedy ravishing fingers. We were both moaning and panting now - too far advanced along the sweetly perfumed path of sin to halt our profligate progress. He pushed two fingers inside the stickily engorged lips of my slit and began frigging me with his hand. I bucked and pranced on his lap like an unruly filly being broken in. He was frigging me so fiercely that it hurt - but oh, such a delectable hurt! I felt as if I was going to faint, and from somewhere within the depths of my consciousness I heard myself screaming. I was aware of his other hand covering my mouth to stifle the screams - and I bit his finger in wild abandonment. He called me a wilful mischievous girl for doing such a thing, and said I deserved to be punished for it. He withdrew his sopping fingers from my throbbing cleft and started spanking me again - this time hard enough to really hurt and sting like mad. The spanking brought me to my senses almost immediately. In my mouth I could taste the blood from his finger which I had bitten so hard and, racked with guilt at having done such a dreadful thing, I begged him frantically to spank me with all the might of his arm so that I might atone for my sins. The hard punishing spanks landed explosively upon my poor aching bottom and echoed around the spacious bedroom. Fortunately we were alone in the house - but the window was open and I was terrified that the spanking could be heard from the road. Roderick chastised me so lustily that soon my bottom began to feel that it was on fire. Yet there was no cruelty at all in his behaviour. He was belabouring my madly cavorting bottom in pure sensual delight - knowing full well from my cries of encouragement that I was revelling in it as much as he was. Then, when at last I cried shrilly that my crimson burning bottom could take no more of his gloriously dominant discipline, he picked me up bodily, carried me over to the bed, deposited me there on my back, and commenced feverishly to remove his clothes. As he lowered his trousers I gasped in terror to see the inordinate size of his penis. It regarded me angrily, rearing up at me from between his legs, like the head of a snake poised to strike. I sobbed and wailed as it loomed nearer and nearer, its owner fixing me with wild staring eyes - mad with desire. I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it - both to drown out the screams I knew I would utter when that monstrous battering ram of his began cleaving through my maidenhead, and also to blot out the awful sense of shame that was sure to accompany such an act of sinful carnality. I went rigid and bit my lip until I drew blood. Now he was clambering upon me, his strong legs brusquely prising my weaker ones wide apart. Then I felt his enormous weapon thrusting remorselessly up between my thighs...he gripped the engorged, dripping-wet lips of my virgin slit with the fingers of both hands, pulled them wide apart..then speared me with one almighty thrust. I felt such a stabbing pain sear through my loins that I screamed and shouted; "Oh Roderick! Roderick! What have you done to me? Surely you have split me in two!" He made no answer save for a low grunt of male satisfaction and, pulling me downwards by the shoulders, impaled me deeper and deeper upon the thick shaft of his ramrod-stiff penis.... I think at that point I must have fainted for a few seconds from shock and pain. When I came to, he was moving slowly and rhythmically up and down inside me, all the while kissing my neck, my lips, my eyes, my forehead and constantly reassuring me that I had nothing to fear - that a girl always experienced some pain on the loss of her virginity, but that the pain was soon succeeded by feelings of unimaginable bliss. He began to move faster and faster, and I responded to the surging rhythm so that our bodies, glistening with sweat mingled with the sticky juices of love, bounced up and down unashamedly on the groaning bed. Tiny ripples of pleasure started to radiate outwards from my womb, growing stronger and stronger by the second until they threatened to consume me totally. I groaned and wept in ungovernable ecstasy, flinging my outstretched body this way and that beneath the impact of his powerful thrusts. All too soon I felt myself near to coming. It was like being swept along on a gigantic tidal wave of joy. Unable to contain myself, I cried out piercingly; "Roderick! Roderick! Ooooo OOOOOOOOOO!" My frenzied shrieks rent the air as I surrendered myself to the racking spasms that shook my entire body. Simultaneously Roderick withdrew his throbbing bloodstained tool from deep within me, with a loud 'plop' like the uncorking of a bottle, and shot an unending stream of thick, creamy spunk all over my belly - soaking the lower part of my camisole which, in the fury of his passion, he had not bothered to remove. There were traces of blood everywhere: on Roderick, on me, and on the sheet below us - conclusive evidence that I was, irrevocably, no longer a pure, innocent virgin. But far from being dismayed, I am ashamed to admit that I was elated - glad that the man who had deflowered me was Roderick Smallwood. Now I belonged to him in every possible way..and that was how I vowed to remain from that day forth. Roderick sank down, spent and exhausted and, murmuring sweet words in my ear, gradually drifted into soundless sleep. I too was drowsy, but my brain was so buzzing with all the wonderful thrilling events of the day that it was some time before I fell asleep. I had the most delicious dream in which Roderick was spanking me over his knee and somehow shafting me with his cock at the same time. Each time that he spanked me he called out my name; "Ellen! Ellen! Ellen!" - and suddenly I woke up to find him calling me for real: "Ellen, Ellen darling, please wake up!" "What is it, Roderick?" I murmured sleepily, stretching and yawning. He made no reply but silently took my hand and placed it around his penis that was once more sticking up proudly in the air like a bulging, fleshy truncheon. He made me loop my thumb and forefinger around the shaft and, squeezing gently, slowly work my way up and down the distended length of it - making it swell up even more immoderately than before. He moaned and grunted in delight, and whispered gloatingly in my ear that if he were my teacher he would cane my bare bottom unmercifully for behaving in such a disgustingly unladylike manner! "Oh yes! Yes!" I panted with perverse pleasure at his threat. "Cane me! Please cane my bare bottom! I am a wicked, wicked girl and I deserve to be soundly thrashed!" But my darling Roderick had more pressing needs than those of my naughty bottom to satisfy at that precise moment. He unlaced the bodice of my camisole, peeling back the linen garment to expose my breasts, then commenced squeezing them and biting my nipples so fiercely that I cried out in intermingled pain and pleasure - and wriggled my bottom around provocatively. Goaded by the sight he commanded me to kneel on the bed, face right into the coverlet and my bottom up as high as it would go, shamefully and humiliatingly exposed. He slapped it very hard several times with his hand, ordering me to stick it up even higher in the air and to wiggle it in his face '.....Like the thoroughly depraved girl you are!" I knew that this was not real abuse but merely part of his rumbustious love-play. All the same I blushed and trembled, and hid my face in my hands at the thought of the awful things he was making me do. I thought back to just a short time before when we met and I was trying to effect the most ladylike graces in order to impress him....and now I was kneeling submissively naked on his bed in this degrading position as Roderick examined my cunt and bottom hole at his leisure! I felt his hand once more forcing my legs apart, then it snaked upwards past my stocking tops and began to fondle and rub my sopping wet cunt. "Oh please, Roderick, stop!" I gasped, wriggling my bottom more frenziedly than ever. "It's driving me mad, whatever you are doing!" He made no reply but instantly withdrew his hand and began to belabour my bottom again. This fresh chastisement, compounded by the previous spanking, created such a red-hot sensation in my rear - which by now was, no doubt, as rosy-red as a ripe tomato - that my love-bud once more began to swell, engorge and overflow with warm oozing secretions. I eventually reached such a state of desperate arousal that, forsaking all vestiges of propriety, I begged him hysterically ; "Oh stick your beautiful big prick inside me! Please Roderick, stick it in me NOW!" He needed no second bidding! And when his huge organ plunged into me from behind I burst into sobs of tortured ecstasy. Pitilessly he rode me towards yet another almighty sexual crescendo. For all his good breeding and gentlemanly ways he was a formidably dominant lover - and I found that I had to clasp the bed-head to brace myself against the furious juddering assaults he was launching at me from the rear. Once again, at the penultimate moment, he withdrew his long thick weapon and I felt the hot gushing of his spend cascade all over my sore buttocks, the backs of my thighs, and trickle down past my stocking tops. "Roderick, look what you have done to me - look at the disgraceful state I am in!" I exclaimed later, after our passions had subsided. I was covered in his sperm! "I know the very thing for you, young lady!" he announced gaily and, slinging me over his shoulder, carried me giggling and shrieking into the bathroom. It was the first proper bathroom I had ever seen and I marvelled at its splendour - especially the enormous marble bath itself, with its resplendent gilt taps....and that intricate labyrinth of gleaming copper pipes - where on earth did they all lead to? Filling the bath, Roderick immersed my sore ravished body in the warm soothing water and soaped me liberally - washing away the dried blood from my battered sex, as well as all the sticky spend from my belly, bottom and thighs. Then, as though I were a babe, he wrapped me tenderly in a huge purple bath towel and carried me back to the bedroom where he dried me and helped me back on with my clothes. As good luck would have it, the wine stain on my frock had all but disappeared. He did everything for me and lavished more care and kindness on my person than I believed possible. I was as much captivated my his sweet and considerate nature then as I had been earlier by his feats of amatory prowess. Could any princess - let alone a simple country girl like me - have wished for a finer lover? Then Roderick consulted his watch. It was past four o' clock and the kitchen-maid would be back shortly from the fair, so we quickly went down to the kitchen where I busied myself about and brewed a pot of best Ceylon tea. I refused his offer of food : I was far too excited and tired to eat - and anyway there was hardly time. Roderick insisted on walking me home. Although I did not wish to put him to that trouble it nevertheless filled my cup of pleasure to the very brim. I suppose in a way he felt responsible for my welfare, now that we were lovers. Curiously enough, we spoke very little on the way back. Idle chatter would have seemed an irrelevance, so at one were we with each other. The shower of rain had freshened the air and cleared the dust away from the leaves. The trees on the hill above Deadman's Pool looked verdantly richer than ever. Above the bright green of the larches and the beeches there rose the warm russet green of the oaks. The grass everywhere was speckled with cowslips. On our left the giant flank of Long Mountain burned blue in the heat of the afternoon sun. "If only I could capture all that beauty on canvas!" Roderick burst out in a sudden fury of agitation, his sweeping arm encompassing the entire vista. "One day you will, my love, I'm sure of that," I said dreamily. He took me to the end of my lane, kissed me goodbye passionately, and we agreed to meet the following Tuesday. Posted by at 7:52 AM 1 comments Thursday, July 05, 2007 'Ellen's Story' - Chapter Six This is a long chapter so I'll post it in two parts CHAPTER SIX - A FORMIDABLY DOMINANT LOVER (part one) I shut the book with a snap, hastily returning it to its hiding place and closing the secret drawer. My heart was still palpitating wildly, whereas the house itself lay becalmed in a deathly hush, silent and seemingly deserted. I felt I was awakening from a trance, into harsh reality. Wait! Was that the sound of someone coming up the stairs - or just the floorboards creaking of their own accord? I held my breath, pulled the coverlet up to my chin, and lay there tense and rigid, like a hunted creature cowering in its lair. But no one came. I relaxed and breathed again, although I was still in a state of fearful distraction - as would be any girl of modesty who had received a rigid Victorian upbringing like mine. Far from being overjoyed that in Roderick I had met a man with precisely the same sensual quirks and proclivities as my own, my instinctive reaction to the discovery I had made was one of blind panic. All I could think of was how to escape from that house as quickly as possible, before a fate which I knew I would be helpless to resist, ensnared me and caused me to compromise myself irrevocably. The real enemy was not Roderick Smallwood - whom I loved dearly and with all my heart - but my wild, undisciplined nature, with all its guilty cravings to be whipped and forced into blissful subjugation. I just could not trust myself, knowing what I did about Roderick Smallwood's secret lusts and passions, to behave as a 'good girl' should - especially as he had only to fix his eyes on me with that stern look of his, and I melted straight away. Then I heard another sound on the stairs. This time it was a definite footfall. I sprang nervously from the bed and ran across to the chair where my clothes were. Next thing I knew, there was a gentle knock on the door. Thinking it was the maid come for my gown, and not wishing her to see me in my underwear, I cried out, "One moment!" and feverishly began to dress - but the door opened and to my total consternation in walked Roderick Smallwood! There I was, in just my camisole, drawers and stockings, being closely scrutinised by the one gentleman towards whom I had taken great pains to appear every inch a lady in modesty and decorum. And to make matters even worse, I knew only too well that beneath the thin cambric veil of my drawers the marks of Clem's birching were still plainly visible on my bottom. I would have rather died, there and then, than have Roderick discover that awful thing about me! "Roderick!" I squealed in total disarray and confusion, folding my arms protectively over my heaving breasts. "My dear, sweet girl, please don't be afraid," he exclaimed, his excitement at seeing me in a state of undress lending a huskiness to his voice. "I only came to tell you - how stupid I was to forget it - that Jenny had asked for the afternoon off to go to the fair." I was too embarrassed even to look at him. "At least let me attend to the cleaning of your pretty dress in person," he said, advancing towards me, his eyes shining in unabashed delight. "Oh dear..I..er..that is..I..." I stammered and stumbled like an awkward schoolgirl while he drew ever nearer, eating me up with his eyes. "Please, Roderick," I protested feebly, "if you are the gentleman I know you to be, you will not take advantage of me in my present state!" He gave a wicked little chuckle. "Ellen," he said with a shrug of the shoulders as he drew dangerously close, "I am afraid to confess that I am no gentleman at all..far from it. If you really want to know the truth about me," he sighed in a self deprecating manner, "I am really a bit of a cad!" So saying, he out his arms around my trembling body and drew me close to him. Shyly, and dreadfully ashamed of myself, I nuzzled my head in his broad shoulder while he caressed and squeezed me outrageously. I just lay there, speechless in his arms and allowed him to freely take all those terrible liberties with my person that my mother had warned me against. And then another tender kiss - and oh, it all but annihilated me! For what seemed to be hours he held me prisoner in his strong embrace...and when I attempted in the interests of propriety to wriggle free, he gently but firmly pinned my wrists behind my back so that I was reduced to total helplessness. I struggled in vain like a captive bird beating against its cage - but to tell the truth I found it wildly exciting to feel thus trapped and restrained. "Ellen, Ellen," he murmured repeatedly, biting the lobe of my ear till it drove me mad, "you must - you must be mine!" and he ran his fingers up and down my back in sweet delectable torment. As I wriggled involuntarily, my loins met his and I gasped in terror to feel the massive stiffness of the erection beneath his trousers. He kissed me again and again and I started to moan audibly. I could feel that I was beginning to wet my drawers with excitement - and that I had no means to prevent myself from doing so. I could feel my virgin slit spreading open like a blossoming flower warming to the sun's embrace. And to make matters worse, while all that was happening, he ran his hands ever downwards towards the plump, saucy amplitude of my bottom..and when he reached the pouting crowns of my buttocks he fiercely clamped them so that our loins were locked together - and his hugely rigid penis rubbed itself maddeningly against the front of my increasingly damp drawers. "What a delightful, naughty bottom you possess, Ellen Roberts!" Roderick panted hotly in my ear. I gasped - he was getting dangerously near the mark. "Oh Roderick..please let me go...oh you mustn't!" I implored, and desperately tried once more to pull away from him - but he held me tighter than ever. The more he fondled my bottom, the wetter and more guiltily afraid I became. I could feel Roderick growing more and more excited with every second. "Ellen," he growled huskily, "you are a very wicked girl to drive me out of my senses like this, and I've a good mind to make this naughty little bottom of yours pay the penalty it so richly deserves!" and he drew back his hand and delivered a resounding slap right across the prominence of both my buttocks. Straight away I winced and cried out in pain. Although my birching had taken place several days before, my poor bottom was still quite sensitively tender, and Roderick's playful slap had taken me completely by surprise. "Ellen whatever is the matter?" Roderick demanded in a voice full of tender concern. "I didn't mean at all to hurt you - it was only a lover's pat!" I shrank into my shell, feeling utterly miserable. Roderick had his secret - that flagellatory book - and I had already found him out...but my secret, I felt, was much, much more shameful and one I was determined to keep from him at all costs. I tried desperately hard to conceal it in spite of all Roderick's questions and enquiries about the state of my health - but it weighed so heavily upon me that I finally cracked and burst into floods of uncontrollable tears. "My dear girl, you must tell me what it is that is troubling you so," he whispered anxiously, cradling me to his bosom as though I were a babe in arms. I felt so sheltered and protected, feeling his heart beat next to mine that, gathering all my courage, I stumblingly narrated the whole shameful tale; a young innocent girl stripped and birched by total strangers.. He listened avidly, his brown eyes gleaming as, bit by bit, I began to disclose all the embarrassing details. I blushed scarlet as I told him, remembering his forbidden book hidden in that secret drawer, and wishing desperately that the reality of my birching ordeal did not correspond so uncannily to the flagellation fantasies which he obviously kept locked away in the furthest recesses of his mind. "My poor sweet darling," he cried indignantly when I came to the end of my story, "what a dreadful experience you had - and what callous brutes to do such a terrible thing to a dear innocent girl like you!" He seemed tremendously agitated, shaking slightly and breathing hard - moved, I suspected, not only by feelings of pity but by other, more primitive, emotions. "And does your bottom still hurt?" he enquired with a perceptible tremor in his voice. "Oh, er, only when I sit down, or if someone should slap it like you did...not that anyone else has done so," I assured him hastily, the blush on my cheeks fiercer than ever. "Indeed, I should hope not!" he retorted, smiling. "From this day forth, woe betide any man who as much as lays his little finger on that portion of your anatomy! In future, sole rights to touch and chastise it belong to me, and me alone!" He spoke the words in jest, maybe to hide his true feelings....but he did not know how fully aware I was of their deeper significance - for both of us. He drew himself close to me again, and once more I felt the conspicuous signs of his male arousal beneath the thin flannel fabric of his trousers. Evidently my confession had aroused him greatly, despite the pangs of real compassion I knew it had wrung from him. Ever so gently,as though touching the petals of a rare and precious orchid, he ran his fingers over my quivering bottom, with only the flimsy veil of cambric linen between his flesh and mine. "Does it hurt you when I do that, Ellen?" he asked, frowning, as though he were already a fully qualified physician in the act of examining me. I shook my head shyly in reply to his question. Far from causing me unpleasant discomfort, his hand roaming all over my bottom was creating the most sinfully exquisite sensations I had ever experienced. I recall thinking to myself that my bottom was by far the most naughtily sensitive zone of my body, because when he squeezed my breasts I loved that too - but not nearly as much as this! Then it was that he committed his most outrageous deed by far. His face suddenly grew serious and stern and he told me that as he had already acquired a basic knowledge of human anatomy from the medical books in his possession, that he felt competent to examine me 'physically'. "I-I don't understand what you mean, " I stammered blankly. "I mean I want you to take down your drawers, Ellen, so that I may inspect your naked bottom.....properly!" (to be continued...soon) Posted by at 9:18 AM 2 comments Monday, July 02, 2007 Too late to be sorry! Oh Christ! Why can't I shut my big mouth? I didn't mean to call dad a fucking idiot. I've never seen him look so angry. He couldn't have meant what he said could he? He can't! I'm way too old to be punished like that! It'll be a lecture same as always...I know it will. He's just left me here to stew. Oh God, he's coming up the stairs! If I say I'm really sorry it's bound to work. He knows I'm too old for ......that. It's indecent at my age. He was just sounding off, wasn't he? Of course he was! Jesus he's here......!!! Daddy!!! Noooooo!! You can't mean it!! Oh please I'm sorry, I'm way too old for.....oh my God what are you doing? Daddy you can't take them down...you can't!!!! Daddy pleeeeeeeeeease!! I've never been so humiliated! Oh please I'm sorry I said what I did. Oh God, don't bare my bottom. Pleeeeeeease!! I'll never do it again!! (I don't believe this! It's just like I when I was ten. I'm not going to cry, I'm not!!! Oh God he can see everything! I'll never be able to face him again! Oh Jeez that strap is awful) Aaaaaaahhhhh!!! Booohooo...choke...gulp..boohooooooo. Oh please daddy no more ..it huuuuuurts!!!! Oh please daddy thats six. Please don't give me any more. I'm so sorry I swore at you. I'll never, never do it again! Boohooo...snort, cough, sniffle. I've never been so ashamed. Not gonna cry and I cracked after the first one. Oh my God that thing hurts. Now he'll tell mom and my little brother that I couldn't take it. I'll just leave home..thats what I'll do. Oooooooo its so sore!! (Pictures courtesy of Spanking Online) Posted by at 2:44 PM 3 comments Friday, June 29, 2007 Welcome to the Board! This is a story from Janus, back in the mid 90's, by Paul Dean. It's a story about an appalling abuse of power and we hate that sort of thing, don't we? Of course we do! Enjoy:- "For God's sake do exactly what he asks...exactly..or it could mean my future." The words rang in her ears as she ascended the wide staircase towards his study. She glanced across the hall, into the large room where most of the guests were assembled, conversation and laughter filling the air. It was all so wonderful, everyone looked so beautiful, the men in their dark dinner jackets and crisp white shirts, their wives in their best gowns, shimmering blues, golds, whites and reds. Fiona paused on the stairs, just to drink it all in, to savour the moment of her first party, her first Company Ball at the luxurious home of the Chairman, Sir George Francis. She remembered the moment so well. The moment when Toby, her husband of just nine months, had burst through the front door of their tiny apartment with the wonderful news. "Darling, I've made it on to the Board, I've bloody well made it!" His grin was so wide she thought his face would fall in half. "Director of Advertising, seat on the Board, new car and loads of lovely money." She had flown into his arms. "Well done, Darling! Well done. I knew you would get there. Oh, you are so clever! How wonderful!" Now their money worries would be over. The past nine months had been very difficult, trying to maintain a good lifestyle had proven very hard, having to keep up with both her and Toby's richer friends. Even her wages from the Company had not been enough to keep them out of rising debt. Toby had taken his new post two weeks before, just in time for the Annual Company Ball. Fiona bubbled with pleasure at the thought of mixing with the very top brass in the Company, particularly being introduced to the powerful Chairman. She had shopped around carefully for new clothes. Toby said she should look her best. She eventually settled for a simple black gown that clung to her hips and then softly swirled out into a fuller skirt. The material made it seem as though she walked in slow motion. She loved it. New underwear completed the look, she wanted to be at her best, and that was when she felt most sexy. The evening had started well. Everything was as she expected; the dresses, the lights, the magnificent setting, being introduced to everyone, the wonderful conversation, everything was just so....perfect, it was as if she was walking on air. "Which one is Sir George? Where is the Chairman?" she whispered to Toby. "I want to meet him." "It doesn't look as if he's here," Toby answered, gazing round the room. "Don't worry, darling, you'll meet him soon." "I certainly hope so, I can hardly wait," she said excitedly. She so wanted to make a good impression, to help Toby. She had it all worked out. "Good evening, Sir George," she would say, gazing up into his eyes. She knew he would be taller, distinguished, with a subtle air of authority. Someone with power. Power over Toby and his job most certainly, but also power..she hardly dared think of it...power over her! "Good evening, my dear," he would say quietly, "so nice to meet you. Such a delight," and she would feel his eyes sweep over her. She shivered as she imagined being swept onto the dance floor, his strong arms around her. "Mrs Fiona Fortune? Madam?" a soft voice, just behind her, suddenly interrupted her reverie. "Oh..er..sorry..yes," she turned, flustered, to see a butler, dark jacket and bow tie, startlingly white shirt, grey hair, standing quietly, a gentle smile on his face, holding a silver tray. On the tray was a gold-edged card. "For you, Madam." "Oh! Th..thank you." she stuttered, taken aback. Written on one side of the card in elegant gold script was, 'Sir George Francis, Chairman - United Electronics.' On the other side in blue ink was written, in a strong masculine hand, 'Fiona, my dear, we haven't met. Allow me to rectify that situation. Please do me the honour of visiting my private study on the first floor, immediately. ' Fiona felt a sudden tingling spark glow through her body. She glanced up and looked around the room. No one was looking, everything seemed as it was before, except she had this wonderful invitation. She had been picked out. Undoubtedly, as the wife of a new Board member, the Chairman wanted to make her feel welcome. It was just the chance she had wanted...an opportunity to talk to the Chairman alone, a chance to impress him, a chance to push Toby's career, so many opportunities her eyes glowed in anticipation. "Look, Toby, look what's happened." She had pulled him away from the group of men he'd been talking to, into a quieter place. "Fiona..really," he said, annoyed, "what is it?" "Look at this card..from Sir George. I've been invited to his study. Isn't that wonderful? Now I can tell him all about us...you know..impress him. It could do you a lot of good." She spoke quickly, almost shaking in her excitement. Toby looked at the card. Why didn't he smile? Why was he looking at her like that? Almost as if he was worried...scared even. "What's the matter, Darling," she said, suddenly concerned. "Aren't you pleased?" "Well, yes, of course," he said slowly. "You will be careful, Darling. You know, don't say the wrong thing. He's very powerful, so you mustn't upset him...you know...agree with him...don't argue, do as he says." There was agitation in his voice. "Why, of course I won't upset him. I'll be a model wife and I'm sure he'll be the perfect gentleman," she laughed. "OK then," but his forced smile was tense, nervous and he gripped her wrist. "Just remember not to upset him...and for God's sake do exactly what he wants...exactly what he wants or it could be the end for my job!" There was that tingly, sparky feeling again as Fiona listened to the tension in her husband's voice. Suddenly it all felt a bit dangerous. Fiona shivered as she smiled reassuringly at him. "Don't worry, Darling, it'll be fine. Anyway I better go." and she made her way towards the large staircase. oOo Sir George Francis sat behind the large mahogany desk in his deep leather chair. He pulled thoughtfully on his big cigar as he studied the contents of a simple, buff-coloured file. It was the only thing on the desk. The room was hushed. No sound from the party below intruded here. Thick drapes hung at the windows, thick carpet covered the floor. Two comfortable leather armchairs stood in front of the log fire, an old writing desk stood against one wall with a glass covered gun cupboard above it. Two shotguns shone dully from inside. There was a single light on the desk and a tall standard lamp in the corner. Dark, expensive pictures adorned the walls. It was a comfortable room, HIS room, totally masculine. He spread the photographs from the folder on the desk in front of him. Fiona getting out of her car showing a very nice expanse of thigh. Fiona bending to retrieve some dropped papers, skirt stretched tightly over her pert bottom . Fiona, caught on a summer day by a gust of wind, skirt lifted, a hint of stockings and suspenders. Fiona, just standing in the office, high heels, short, tight, dark skirt, crisp white blouse tucked in, taut across her breasts, sensual blonde curls framing her face. These are nice, he thought. His people had done a good job. He smiled at what she would say if she ever discovered she had attracted this kind of interest. Sir George Francis was one of the most powerful industrialists in the country. Utterly ruthless in business matters, he had risen to the top through his own efforts and was proud of it. He drove himself to the limit at work and expected the same dedication from everyone, in particular members of the Board, who he would get rid of in an instant if he felt they were not pulling their weight or offering him their total cooperation. He was quite short in stature, people said he was wiry, still with a full head of dark hair, his sharp nose giving him a slightly sinister appearance. What he did have was power. It was this that people noticed...raw,naked power. He scared most people to death, for he used his power without reservation. He didn't have much time to relax, but when he did, he liked to take an 'interest' in the wives of his employees and particularly those of his Board members. It was unwritten, of course, but there were just two qualifications for the Board of United Electronics. You had to be very good at your job.....and you had to have a beautiful wife. Fiona certainly fitted the bill, he thought. Young Toby Fortune had earned his place on the Board but it was Fiona who had clinched it, and now..he smiled to himself..here she was on her way, unknowingly, to seal the deal. He gathered up the photos and replaced the file with the others in his desk drawer and locked it. He sat back and waited. oOo Fiona reached the top of the stairs and walked slowly along the the thickly carpeted corridor towards the oak paneled door at the end. The noise of the party receded and she felt herself enveloped by the hushed atmosphere. The tingly,sparky feeling was becoming more pronounced and it was joined by a million butterflies that had gathered in her stomach. She felt she was walking into a dangerous situation. Sir George was, after all, a man who could ruin her life, and Toby's. He held them...her...in the palm of his hand. He could ask anything of her, do anything to her. She would simply have to obey. She reached the heavy door, knocked timidly, and waited. Suddenly her mind was filled with another tension packed moment like this. Waiting to enter another door. Her Headmaster's study door at Highburne House School for Girls. She had been in the sixth form, almost eighteen, attending for punishment. She hadn't meant to steal the cosmetics from the shop, something had just come over her, but no one believed that and now she was for it. She remembered the thick oak door opening, the Headmaster sitting behind his desk, the Chairman of the Board of Governors sitting in the big armchair. She remembered the utter humiliation, standing in front of them, the Chairman's eyes glittering with excitement, the Headmaster's barked instruction as he rose from his chair, cane in hand. Her throat dry as she pulled down her knickers in front of them, then bent over that large desk. Intense humiliation.....and something else too! "COME IN! I SAID COME IN!" She heard the voice through her dreaming..it startled her..shocked her..how long had she kept him waiting? Hurriedly she pushed at the door, it would not open. Flustered, she twisted the handle and almost stumbled into the quiet room. "Oh I'm so sorry, Sir George. I don't know what came over me..." she stood embarrassed and confused in front of his desk. "There, there my dear Fiona," he said smoothly, delighted to see her flushed face and her consternation. "Please don't fret. I'm sorry I shouted but I feared you had not heard me." She fought to collect herself. This was not how she had planned it at all. She took several deep breaths and began to feel calmer. He waited quietly while she composed herself, taking in the picture of her soft, blonde curls, her pretty face...all the more so, blushing pink as it was...her cool, bare shoulders, breasts pushing against the bodice of her dress..the swell of her hips...all this in one, long glance. She was aware of his long stare, taken aback by his pugnacious appearance, not at all the film star figure she had imagined, but totally aware of the immense power contained in that one glance. She caught her breath as she felt the dampness between her legs. "... and I expect my Directors wives to contribute to the success of the Company. Don't you think so, Fiona?" "What? Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't quite follow..." her voice trailed off feebly. This was awful. What must he think of her? She was starting to feel wretched and guilty for letting Toby down so badly. "Never mind, my dear. I was just saying that everyone involved with the Company had something to contribute..and that the wives had a responsibility too." "Oh I do agree," she gushed, "everyone should play their part." She stood, helplessly, her hands by her sides. Sir George did nothing to make her feel more comfortable. "Good. And I've asked you up here to give you my own personal welcome as a new Director's wife and to get to know you a lot better," he said softly but with an authority she could hardly ignore," yes my own, very personal, welcome." She stood staring at him, unable to find an answer. "So, my dear, let's make a start with that, shall we? Why don't you take off that beautiful dress?" For Sir George, this was the delicious moment. What would she do? Refuse angrily? Be shocked and scandalised? Break down in tears? What? For Fiona, the words came almost as if she expected them. Somehow, deep down, she had known something like this was going to happen. The power of this man. "For God's sake do exactly what he says....exactly..!" It felt as if she was moving in slow motion, her hands at the back of her dress, unzipping it,not a word of protest, her eyes fixed on his, the tingly, sparky feelings now coursing strongly through her body, the butterflies whirring round in her tummy, the blush mounting in her face. He watched as she shrugged off the top of her dress, the straps off her shoulders, revealing the soft pink brassiere filed with her breasts. Then she pushed her thumbs into the dress at the sides and eased it over her hips and let it fall in a pool at her feet. Hands at her sides, she stood red-faced, in front of him, staring down at the carpet. "Well done, my dear. How delightful you are. Toby IS a lucky man," he said in that quiet, authoritative voice as his eyes swept over her. Black high-heeled shoes tightening her calves, dark stockings, the tops pulled to points by her pink suspenders and contrasting violently with the whiteness of her thighs, the suspender straps disappearing into the lacy legs of her pink French knickers which clung seductively to the swell of her stomach. "Now that didn't hurt at all. Did it?" he said in a more business-like voice. Fiona shook her head. It hadn't hurt. In fact it had given her a real thrill but she didn't raise her head. "Well I have a little initiation ceremony for new wives," he said sharply, "I am going to spank your bottom. Come here!" Now she raised her head...in shock. "Oh please no, not that..I won't," she found her voice at last, strangled and choking. "Now I'm sure you don't need me to remind you how much your husband depends on my favour," he said, smiling without mirth, "for you must know that already." Then she knew she had to go through with this for Toby's sake and, stepping out of the pool of her dress, she walked slowly around the desk. Obediently she lay across his knees, her bottom posed conveniently for his hand. She felt his hand momentarily fondle each buttock, before his fingers were at the waistband of her knickers. Her face was bright red with embarrassment now but she said nothing, just raised herself slightly so that he could pull them down to her knees. She could feel the cool air on her rear cheeks as she abandoned herself to the feeling of being mastered..just as she had at school..draped across that oak desk..the humiliation she experienced and the knowledge that a stranger would soon be staring at her most intimate and private parts. That there was nothing she could do to stop him only added to the mounting excitement within her. Sir George stared at Fiona's bottom with great pleasure. Women's bottoms never failed to excite and delight him. He had seen many, many women in this position but each time they were a new source of pleasure. Fiona's was no exception. Taut, yet soft and amazingly resilient, her flesh pink and smooth yet covered with a soft down, hardly noticeable from his fine vantage point. He smiled..and raised his hand. SMACK! It was like a pistol shot as his palm met her flesh. he felt the delicious wobble as she bucked on his knee. SMACK! This time on the other cheek...a second red hand print appeared. Again she jerked under the impact. Delightful! SMACK! SMACK! He was increasing the rhythm and her grunt was a little louder. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Each buttock in turn..now he was warming to his task..she started to kick her legs...always a great sight for a spanker to see! She tried to reach around with her hand to protect her rear, but he had too much experience to let her do that. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! His hand moved rapidly from cheek to cheek, each rapidly getting redder and redder..the warm flesh bouncing deliciously beneath his palm. She was squealing now, it really hurt, the heat was building rapidly, she kicked up her legs,not caring what she was showing, then suddenly he stopped and she felt his hand caress her burning bottom. He rested for a moment, his palm feeling the heat radiating from her scarlet cheeks. Little trickles of sweat were gathering on her back and he smoothed them away with his hand as he casually flipped open the clip of her brassiere, pushed the straps down her arms and gently felt the weight of her bare breasts in his palm. She gave something between a gasp, a snort and a moan. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! A final flourish produced anguished cries. "OWWWWW OOOOOOOOOO! PLEASE, SIR, STOP.....I'LL DO ANYTHING....ANYTHING!" Her bottom had taken on that deep red glow, smooth and shiny under the fierce blast of his hand. The heat enveloped her, the pain in her bottom reaching every part of her, she was snorting and gasping, tears pouring down her cheeks. She felt totally mastered, humiliated..her last outburst..she really meant it..and with all this..the excitement of what was happening to her almost driving her mad with excitement. He helped her from his knee and made her stand facing the wall opposite him, hands on her head. He watched her squirm slowly as she tried to relieve the burning sensations in her bottom. After a few moments, he said sharply, "Go over to the writing cabinet and open the top drawer. Bring me what you find there!" Wincing slightly she slowly did as she was asked. She opened the drawer and gasped. Wide eyed she turned towards him, the thin whippy cane in her hand. "Oh p-p-please," she begged, " surely you're not going to...you can't..please..." "Of course I can..and I will," he replied breezily, "the young wife's final test, eh? Come on, Fiona, I know you can take it....and you will!" All protest abandoned, she walked over slowly and handed him the cane. "Now take off your stockings and suspender belt," he ordered, "I want you naked for the cane." Such was her state of mind that she hurried to obey. Completely naked now, she felt totally in his power. He could do anything he liked with her and her excitement continued to rise. It seemed right that she should be exposed to him, she made no attempt to cover herself as she bent over his desk. She allowed him to place a cushion on the edge so that she could rest her tummy on it. The heat from her bottom was penetrating between her legs and, almost unconsciously, she spread them a little way apart. She was tingling with excitement now and sighed as she bent low in acceptance. She heard a swish and then felt the cane strike her bottom, for a split second there was nothing, then a searing pain hit her like a burning bar and she squealed aloud. He had laid the first one just across the top of her cleft, a straight scarlet line appearing as if by magic. The second was exactly one inch below the first, the scarlet line running across both buttocks. Again she squealed and bucked, the pain tearing into her bottom. The third and fourth, delivered in quick succession were laid in a further inch dwon to produce four exactly parallel lines of red. Each time she gave that snorting cry, wiggled her bottom, but made no attempt to rise. He changed his position slightly and brought the final stroke down so that it crossed the others, both reawakening the pain and completing the pattern. This time Fiona kicked her legs out wide as she gasped and grunted and he had to steady her on the desk. He watched a tiny rivulet of sweat disappear into her bottom cleft as she writhed on the desk, the heat building to almost unbearable levels. He would wait, experienced as he was, for what he knew would inevitably happen. He smiled broadly as he inspected his 'signature' on her bottom, a dark red barred gate against a paler red background. There were two more ladies at the party downstairs who bore that mark and many others from whose bottom it had faded. It would be most noticeable on the plump bottom of Mrs. Alice Cornell, the wife of his Finance Director. How she had squealed, face down across his knee, her flesh wobbling delightfully as he turned it a deep crimson. It would be fading now from the taut young bottom of Mrs Irene Fielder. It had been over a week since the wife of his Marketing Manager lay stretched across the back of the leather couch, kicking up her long legs delightfully as he 'signed' her lovely bottom. Fiona lay face down on the desk, sobbing quietly, her breasts damply pressed against the smooth wood. The raging fire coursing through her buttocks engulfed her, yet she made no move for another intense feeling was beginning to take hold. Deep between her legs it remained, a tingling warmth and dampness that made her press her tummy against the cushion and, as it rose in intensity, she gave a soft low moan. Sir George's keen eyes and ears noticed the subtle change and he grinned. As certain as night follows day, he thought. He walked over and gently stroked her naked bottom. It was time to consider the next step, the tightness in his trousers delightfully uncomfortable now. As his hand gently stroked the hot, burning flesh he murmured softly, "Your husband will go a long way in this Company, my dear...a very long way indeed!" Posted by at 7:01 AM 2 comments Tuesday, June 26, 2007 'Ellen's Story' - Chapter Five Way past time for more Ellen, I think. CHAPTER FIVE - GRAVE MORAL DANGER It was still only Wednesday,with two whole interminable days to go before Saturday. The summer holidays had arrived so I had nothing to do but lounge around the cottage in a constant fever of impatience, willing the hours to pass by speedily. I was 18 years of age, and bursting with excitement at the prospect of a whole blissful day spent in the company of Roderick Smallwood. I daydreamed about him incessantly, day in day out - I even lost my normally healthy appetite. On Friday night, before I went to bed, I put out my best summer frock to air. It was a sweet old-fashioned dress in pink organdie with delicate poppies embroidered around the bodice. Mother said it made me look like a little girl, but I somehow knew that would be no disadvantage where Roderick was concerned. It was slightly on the small side, having been bought for me when I was 15, and in the intervening years my breasts and bottom had plumped out appreciably - though not excessively, I told myself, as I studied my naked form critically in my mother's bedroom mirror. As to my physiognomy, I had large blue-green eyes, a little retrousse nose that everyone labelled 'cute', to use the vulgar American parlance, and mischievously pouting lips. I knew that my teeth could hardly be described as perfectly regular, but as the postman had often remarked upon my 'lovely, winsome smile', I came to the conclusion that maybe, after all, it was the slight flaws and imperfections in one's person that bestowed one with charm and made one appear attractive to the opposite sex. I had a slender, delicate neck which my mother said I inherited from her side of the family, and which I was able to show off to good advantage by pinning up my almost waist-length chestnut-brown hair on top of my head. Mother said that the style made me look like a little princess, so of course I wore it that way for the summer fair. The birch weals on my bottom had now faded somewhat since the time Clem had planted them there, but when I put my hand down the back of my drawers I could still feel their aching presence. I am deeply ashamed to say that the memory of my birching affected me for days after with feelings of unutterable pleasure. I lay awake at nights, tossing and turning on my narrow bed, my hand down between my legs busily occupied in doing what it ought not to be doing. I recaptured again and again that unbearably potent frisson of intense humiliation I had experienced when Clem had slowly pulled down my drawers exposing my bottom and my pubic mound with its soft brown curls to the lecherous gazes of those dreadful men .... the recollection of it was deliciously sinful and caused my little clitty to engorge and lubricate copiously..so that with the aid of my frantically rubbing fingers I came again and again, my loins surging and writhing in total abandonment. I was truly an irredeemable sinner, destined without doubt for eternal damnation... But I was by nature a buoyant, cheerful sort of girl and I never allowed any morbid sense of guilt to oppress me for very long - so that when at last Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny all my dark gloomy thoughts were firmly locked away. Mother said that I looked as pretty as a picture when I set off down the lane, sharp at nine o' clock, all neat and trim in my pink frock, starched frilly petticoats exposing just enough of my best black lisle stockings and dainty little Sunday boots. The birds were singing in the hedgerows and some of the village children were gathering campion in the lane as I proudly sallied forth. When I reached the high road I met a constant stream of carts and traps, all heading for the fair. A sense of excitement and expectancy seemed to fill the whole neighbourhood, all of which made my heart beat even more joyfully. I met Roderick outside the Crown as arranged. Dressed in a Norfolk jacket, elegant grey flannel trousers, and wearing a straw boater, he looked sprucely debonair. He kissed me on the cheek, complimented me on my appearance, gallantly offered me his arm - as if I was a real lady - and led the way to the fairground, which lay at the far end of town behind the railway station. We laughed and chatted all the way there, and any shyness I might at first have had, rapidly melted away. Soon we were swallowed up by a great throng of pleasure seekers all heading towards the strident blare of the gaudily painted steam-driven roundabouts and other wondrous mechanical contrivances, flanked by the grey canvas booths wherein, upon paying our penny apiece, we discovered such marvels as married dwarfs scarcely three feet tall, bearded ladies, fat ladies, tattooed ladies, and not forgetting Madame Morgana, of course, a gigantically obese fortune teller with obscenely rouged cheeks and black plaited greasy hair. We visited every stall, as well as having our penny whirls on the roundabouts. Roderick won me a pretty doll at the shooting gallery, and even daringly offered to go two rounds with the Holy Terror of South Wales in the boxing booth - but I tried my utmost to lure him away, protesting how I should hate to see his crisp white linen shirt all spattered with blood. I thought boxing a crude, ugly sport and could not bear the idea of Roderick's fine handsome features being battered and bruised by some great oafish brute of a prize fighter. Roderick at last relented - on condition that I dine with him at the Crown. I had never been in such a grand place as a hotel before and I was greatly in awe of it, although Roderick's confident, assured bearing and his constant solicitation for my welfare soon put me at ease. He requested a private room, away from the noisy clamour of the ale-quaffing farmers, many of whom had come across the mountains from Wales - for it was market, as well as fair, day. In no time at all there we were esconced together in a cosy little oak-beamed parlour, tucking in to a delicious repast of veal fillet. Roderick ordered a bottle of the best red wine, which he insisted I share with him. Being a strictly brought up girl, I had never tasted alcohol before - let alone vintage French wine - and very soon I was feeling its powerful effects in the form of a pleasantly sensual languor creeping through my body. Roderick, with his customary boundless enthusiasm, was explaining to me the differences between Impressionism, Art Nouveau, and a new group of young French painters who called themselves 'Les Fauves' which he said meant 'wild beasts'. I tried very hard to follow his dissertation but he talked so quickly and animatedly, and I began to feel sleepier and sleepier because of the wine, so that eventually I grew hopelessly befuddled and bewildered. After a while he stopped talking and gave me a long lingering look across the table. "Ellen Roberts, you are by far the nicest girl I have ever met", he murmured bewitchingly, still fixing me with those lovely big brown eyes of his. "Am I?" I stammered, blushing madly, holding my wine glass and pretending to study it. "What about all those Paris beauties you must have met?" I chafed him awkwardly, trying to hide my embarrassment. "Ellen, you are a naughty girl to mock my feelings thus!" The sudden sternness with which he spoke, the emphasis he placed on the delicious word 'naughty', thrilled me to the core and put me into so much confusion that I upset my wine glass, which in turn knocked over the wine bottle itself - the contents spilling all down the front of my frock. Appalled at my stupid clumsiness, I uttered a dismayed cry and burst into tears of mortification. I felt that, by one simple act of carelessness, I had ruined everything. Whatever would he think of me now? He rose from the chair, a look of deep concern in his eyes. "My dear girl, whatever is the matter? Are you feeling unwell?" His kindly solicitude smoothed away my fears. Everything was not lost then, after all. "It is nothing really..That is..I-I do feel a little faint," I murmured dizzily, with my hand on my forehead. "I think I may have drunk a little too much wine." My conscience whispered that I ought to be on my guard, and that I was in grave moral danger. I was quite besotted with Roderick Smallwood, and I ought really to beware. "Mind you don't let him take liberties with you - gentleman or no gentleman!" my mother had warned me that morning as I was leaving. She did not specify just what those liberties were, but of course I had a pretty good idea. Yet in spite of her warnings, I am ashamed to admit that I had let the wine go completely to my head, and I remember wondering just exactly what I would do if he did try to 'take liberties' with me - and whether or not I would make strenuous efforts to resist them. I really was an exceedingly wicked, shameless girl - and I was falling deeper in love by the minute. "What an inconsiderate fellow I am to be sure!" he exclaimed, dabbing away at my childish tears with his large white handkerchief. "...To order such strong wine - a habit I picked up in the Latin Quarter I'm afraid...and then to ply an innocent, unspoilt girl like you with it! I fear it has made you quite giddy!" He insisted on taking full responsibility, full charge of me. He helped me as I got up, a little unsteadily, from the dining table. "Ellen, my dear," he said as he squeezed my hand and placed his other arm lightly around my shoulder in tender concern, "you need to lie down somewhere quiet, and sleep off the ill-effects." "But where is there...?" I began timidly. "There is only one place - my father's house," he broke in quickly. "Yes, that's it - you must come with me straight away to my father's house!" His firmness brooked no opposition, despite my feeble demurrings of; "But your father...I could not dream of letting him see me like this!" I thought of how shocked the worthy old gentleman would be to see me thus dazed and slightly inebriated, those unsightly wine-stains crimsoning the front of my summer dress, like a guilty blush. "My father is away, attending a teachers conference in London," he explained, still with his arm around my shoulder. "But," he added quickly, anticipating my next objection, "Jenny, our maid, will be at the house to repair the damage to your dress - so you need have no fears for your reputation and your safety!" He laughed heartily as if to dismiss all possible reservations I might still be entertaining. He took my arm in his, and I allowed him to lead me through the hot dusty afternoon streets back to his father's house. I clung on to his arm gratefully and submissively. I knew that my mother would not approve in the slightest of all this - but then, was I not already a confirmed sinner, lost beyond all redemption? Roderick and his father lived in a commodious three storeyed residence set back some distance from the road and surrounded by a tall yew hedge. Dr, Smallwood had named the house 'Shalimar', presumably as a reminder of his missionary days out in India. A wide pebble drive led up to the front door which was painted a delicate sage green. The thought of being invited into such a splendid mansion as this unnerved me completely and I vacillated on the threshold, stammering lame excuses about how much better I felt, and that, because my mother would be anxious about me, I really ought to be going straight home. "Utter bosh, dear girl - I positively forbid it!" cried Roderick warmly and, turning the shining brass door handle, practically bundled me inside. The spacious hall was furnished and decorated with the tasteful simplicity that was to be found throughout the entire house. A copper and glass Benson oil lamp hung from the ceiling, and along the wall next to the staircase there was a charming dado of Indian matting. I gawped in wonder, like the country bumpkin that I was - for I had never seen such superior taste as this in my life before. Roderick led me briefly into the drawing room which was even more exotic in its oriental flavouring. There was pale blue wallpaper decorated with bamboo leaf patterns on the walls, upon which hung numerous Japanese fans, exquisite etchings, china plates and kekomonos. On the overmantel there yet more pieces of blue and white china as well as ivory elephants. The woodwork was painted pale blue to match the wallpaper, and the door panels were inlaid with tropical birds and apple-blossoms on a gold background. The furniture was almost spartan in its unfussy elegance; there was none of the sense of oppressive clutter to be found in more traditional homes of the time. There was simply a low settee, several easy chairs, and a beautiful cabinet of light design, made of ebonized wood. "Roderick, it's a palace!" I gasped, gazing shyly up at his face. Taking immediate advantage of the situation, he boldly drew me close and planted a passionate kiss on my defenceless lips. The naked sensuality of that kiss made my legs grow weak and had not his strong manly arms encircled and supported me, I would have surely fallen to the floor in a swoon. "Ellen," he said gently, after I had at length managed to extricate myself in blushing confusion from his embrace, "I can see that you are weak with all the excitements of today. I insist that you go and lie down for a little while." "No...really...I don't think I had better", I murmured faintly; still blushing like mad, as would any young girl after her first proper, grown-up kiss. "Allow me to know what's best for you, my girl!" Roderick replied with a slight but distinct edge of sternness in his voice that took my breath away - and with no more ado, gathering me up in his arms, he whisked me out of the drawing room and carried me all the way up the stairs. Ought I to have resisted? Ought I to have struggled, kicked, and by means of shrill cries summoned the maid from the basement kitchen to my rescue? All my upbringing, my mother's interminable lectures on 'propriety', warned me that I should. But the indescribably thrilling sensation of being lifted bodily into the air and borne along in his arms - his left one imprisoning my knees, his right hand clasped tightly around my waist - rendered me dumb and speechless with shock. I felt like a little rag doll, utterly powerless and under his control. When we reached the landing he pushed open the door to a large, airy bedroom, deposited me ever so gently upon the coverlet of the stately bed, and then, greatly to my surprise, stood up immediately and moved towards the door. But, before leaving, he gave me a long, kindling look that said more than a million words. "Be sure to remove your wet dress straight after I've gone now, Ellen," he reminded me, wagging an admonishing finger, "or else you will surely catch a chill. I will send Jenny to you in a few minutes, so she may take the gown to the kitchen to have it sponged and dried." I murmured my red-faced thanks as the door abruptly closed behind him. So even devil-may-care Roderick Smallwood bowed to the rules of propriety when the occasion warranted! With his departure all my fevered apprehensions faded. I am ashamed to admit it, but more than a little part of me was disappointed to see him go. I got up from the bed, went over to the window, and gazed out at the reassuringly familiar Shropshire landscape; the pale meadows and the deeper woods, all melting and liquefying in the warm July shower that had begun to fall. Still dazed and giddy after the wine, I obediently commenced to do as Roderick had said. Having first drawn the green velvet curtains, I began pulling my pink organdie frock up over my head. The wine had even soaked right through my petticoat. I removed this too and laid both garments neatly over the back of a chair where the maid would easily see them. Then, clad only in my camisole, white frilly cambric drawers, and black stockings, I undid my boots and slid under the coverlet, yawning drowsily. Was this his bedroom, I wondered? And was this his bed I was in? The possibility was such an exciting one to contemplate and I looked around for evidence. Sure enough, there lying on the top of the bedside cabinet was a disorganised jumble of books, one or two on medicine, but the majority devoted to what was Roderick's consuming passion; painters and their paintings. Huge, cumbersome volumes they were, lavishly illustrated with lithographic reproductions - some, I was intrigued to see, of a rather immodest nature with depictions of the female form both scantily dressed and even completely nude. I was far too fascinated to be shocked. "So this is what a young gentleman keeps by his bed to read at night, is it?" I declared out loud in childlike wonderment. And there was I, an innocent spotless 18 year old maiden, shamelessly esconced between the sheets of that self same bed! What on earth would my mother have said had she known? As I replaced the heavy books on the shelf my hand accidentally brushed against a tiny button further down the side of the cabinet, and to my astonishment a hidden drawer sprang open of its own accord. Concealed within it lay another book, similar in size to the ones I had just been examining - except that it had no inscription on either the front or the spine. I took it out of the drawer and opened it idly at random. The book fell open at a full page reproduction of a beautifully executed line-drawing of a girl about my own age, stark naked apart from the camisole pulled up to her waist, being vigorously whipped by a young priest, his stiffly erect penis protruding from the folds of his cassock. That the girl was beautiful you could discern from her face which was half turned toward her persecutor in an expression of ecstatic agony which would have rivalled that of any martyred saint. Her long black hair hung in careless profusion down her back. Another priest stood directly in front of her, gripping her harshly by the arms to prevent her escaping. Not only that, but his sword-like penis was inside her almost to the hilt. Written below were some lines in French. Feverishly, I turned to the next page and saw there the likeness of a pretty blonde girl, ignominiously bent across a sort of low pulpit, her skirts and petticoats raised, her drawers dangling round her ankles. At her side stood a grim looking gentleman holding, at arm's length, a long whippy cane. He was naked and his generously proportioned penis stood to rigid attention. Emblazoned across his victim's submissively exposed buttock cheeks was a carmine network of cane weals. The book shook in my hand as I devoured its contents in shocked, appalled silence. Hitherto I had naively supposed that such scenes as those so graphically depicted within its pages took place only in the perverse labyrinth of my guilty imagination. On yet another page I discovered a naked girl being severely spanked by her father confessor. The unholy zeal with which he pursued his task was amply evidenced by the sight of his swollen member poking up from between the girl's thighs while she was lying helplessly across his ecclesiastical lap. An enthusiastic assembly of male acolytes, all busily masturbating, were grouped around the main tableau. Wondering who on earth would dare to to publish such an unspeakably depraved - yet to my eyes, pruriently exciting - book, I turned hastily to the title page. The title, like everything else, was in French; Les Chatiments Religieux. Below it was printed; Charles Carrington, 13, Fauborg Montmartre, Paris, 1905. Erotic spanking is the practice of spanking another for the sexual gratification of either or both parties. Erotic spanking can be regarded as a form of BDSM activity in some cases (sadomasochism in particular), although many spanking devotees do not regard it as such. Many spankings are carried out with the use of bare hands, or with spanking implements such as hairbrush, paddle, belt, cane, riding crop, whip, switch (rod), birch, gloves, a ruler or martinet (see Category:Spanking implements). Erotic spankings are most commonly combined with sexual foreplay, oral sex, sexual intercourse, sexual role-playing and/or ageplay. The most common type of erotic spanking is administered on the bare buttocks, with the spankee in many cases being fully nude, for additional sexual arousal, or for humiliation (but mainly in a BDSM context). Bondage is also combined occasionally with erotic spankings, to heighten sexual arousal and feelings of helplessness of the spankee, but is very common in BDSM relationships. Positions for spanking include: over the knees (OTK) or across the lap stooped over a chair or couch on hands and knees (bed or floor) kneeling on a bed or ottoman, stooped over with hands on the floor diaper position (genital exposure to enhance humiliation) bent under the arm of the spanker lying face down on a bed birching block wooden horse with the spankee slung over the spanker's shoulder,allowing the spanker to paddle the spankee with his or her free hand. Members of the Society of Janus, spanking one another at Folsom Steet Fair 2004When men spank women, they may sometimes like them to dress up as a schoolgirl, or to roleplay the part of a "daughter", "secretary", "nurse", "maid" and other roles. Men who enjoy being spanked (whether giving or receiving) may like women to wear some combination of a skirt, high heels, garter belt, nylons, and fancy panties; if the women are the spanker, men may enjoy women who dress and act superior, and dress the part of a sexually dominant female dominatrix, and also may involve the spanker role-playing the part of a strict teacher, headmistress, governess, boss, nurse, babysitter or wife. Those interested in giving or receiving erotic spankings are sometimes (rarely) known as spankophiles or spankos. Examples include the poet Algernon Swinburne and the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau. A few people with a sexual interest in spanking draw on historical corporal punishment techniques used in homes, schools, courts or prisons. However they are generally careful to distinguish their consensual sexual activities from their views of child-rearing, education and public policy. Punishment spankings and erotic spankings are easy to to separate, as punishment spanking usually involve the spankee experiencing medium to extreme physical discomfort or pain in the administration of the spanking, sometimes to the point of crying, which in the context of domestic discipline, is a form of emotional release and behavioral modification, and/or mental/physical control over the spankee by the spanker. Spanking Despite contrary notions, spanking can often be found with people who were never spanked as a child, often coming out later in life as repressed role playing/wish fulfillment.[citation needed] These paraphilia can take on many varieties. In the erotic fiction of this type, spanking is seen as natural as a reflex as sitting on a chair or making dinner. Other types include "spanking between friends", "parent-child spankings", "sibling spanking" and authoritarian school discipline spankings. Spanking enthusiasts often keep at hand (privately) a variety of spanking implements such as paddles, whips, belts, etc; infrequently, these implements will also be kept on display (such as hanging together on a wall) as in the unusual, but not completely uncommon practice for a spanking paddle to be hung on display in the parents' bedroom as a continuing reminder to the children of potential punishment, when in fact it is primarily used for erotic paddlings given by one spouse to the other. Playful non-erotic spanking Sometimes spanking is done in a playful manner that is neither a form of punishment nor is it intended as an erotic act. A tradition that often begins with childhood and can continue to adulthood is a "birthday spanking". This type of spanking is most often associated with a birthday celebration during which sometimes the person celebrating the birthday is spanked playfully, one time for each year of their life - and then some more "to be good on and to grow on," sometimes also "for luck and for love." It is not meant to hurt or overly humiliate the spanked party (although sometimes a paddle is used, and occasionally it is given on the bare bottom). Often the act is also associated with sports participants, who congratulatorily slap one another on the bottom. It is a common practice in the United States for a stripper to spank the groom-to-be during his bachelor party, while his drunk friends cheer her on. This can be done either on the stage at a strip club or by a stripper or strippers hired for a private bachelor party. More rarely, at her wedding shower a bride-to-be is given a "gag gift" such as a pair of pink panties that say "Remove before spanking" on the back; and her friends may threaten to have her "try them out" (by having them spank or paddle her) to "see how they work." Similarly, the groom may as a gag be given a paddle with step-by-step "How to spank your wife" instructions painted on it. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS - Alt.Sex.Spanking Contributors: Dave in S CAL, Debbie Ann, Adrian, Alex, C-Red, Llori, et. al. This document contains explicit sexual information. If you do not wish to view such information, I advise you to skip this document. Permission is granted to copy and redistribute this document electronically provided that it remains complete and unmodified. CD publishers take note: this does not include you. Until the FAQ becomes accepted by the *.answers moderators, the only places to obtain this draft version are the newsgroup alt.sex.spanking (irregularly posted for now) and the a.s.s. Spanking Resource page at Contents of this FAQ ==================== 1. INTRODUCTION TO A.S.S. 1.1 What is alt.sex.spanking all about? 1.2 Why is this newsgroup so friendly? 1.3 Is spanking a form of BDSM? 1.4 What is the difference between spanking and spousal abuse? 1.5 What is the difference between spanking and flagellation? 1.6 Is it possible to meet people through this newsgroup? 1.7 What is alt.personals.spanking? 1.8 Is it appropriate to post personal ads here? 1.9 Might I find certain postings to be offensive or distasteful? 1.10 What is "delurking" and how do I do it? 1.11 What is the roster and why should I submit an entry? 1.12 I'm female. Will I be inundated with unwelcome e-mail solicitations if I delurk or list an entry in the roster? 2. NEWSGROUP ETIQUETTE 2.1 What is appropriate to post here? 2.2 What is inappropriate to post here? 2.3 What are common mistakes made by newcomers? 2.4 Is it appropriate to flame heterocentric language and attitudes? 2.5 Is it appropriate to post real-life experiences or stories involving the spanking of children? 2.6 Is it appropriate to discuss the legitimacy of spanking as a form of discipline for children in real life? 2.7 Is it appropriate to discuss news stories about spanking such as the Michael Faye caning? 2.8 How should stories be titled and introduced? 2.9 Are male/male spanking stories appropriate to post here? 3. COMMONLY USED TERMS AND ABBREVIATIONS 3.1 Keywords Found in Story Subject Lines 3.2 Common Abbreviations on Alt.Sex.Spanking 3.3 Some Useful Definitions 4. SPANKING ORIGINS, FANTASIES, EROTICISM 4.1 I've been fascinated by spanking since I was a child. Am I alone? 4.2 Do my fantasies have to be consistent with my values and ethics? 4.3 Will my interest in spanking escalate into other forms of kinky sex? 5. SPANKING PLAY 5.1 I'd like to reveal my spanking interests to my partner but am afraid of being rebuffed. What should I do? 5.2 I've never been spanked before but would like to be. What should I do? 5.3 I've never given a spanking before but would like to. What should I do? 5.4 I feel silly when I try to play out spankings. How do I make my experiences meet my fantasies? 5.5 What does consensuality mean? 5.6 What is a safeword? 5.7 Is there a consensus here regarding consensuality and safewords? 5.8 My partner or I have a low tolerance for pain. Will we be able to enjoy spankings? 5.9 How can I get my partner to spank me harder? 5.10 How do I minimize the risk of physical injury during spanking play? 5.11 Can any of you 'seasoned veterans' offer suggestions on how bruising can be prevented - or at least minimized?

6. MORE SPANKING ON THE INTERNET 6.1 Other Usenet Groups 6.2 Web Sites 6.3 E-Mail File Servers 6.4 IRC Channels ----------------------------------------------------------------------

1. INTRODUCTION TO A.S.S. 1.1 What is alt.sex.spanking all about? Alt.sex.spanking (a.s.s.) is a splinter group from alt.sex.bondage (a.s.b). While the discussions on a.s.b cover the entire breadth of BDSM interests, a.s.s. topics deal with spanking in an erotic context, whether as fantasy or real experiences. In addition, a.s.s. includes discussions on real life discipline between adults, and sightings of spanking scenes in books, t.v., and movies. 1.2 Why is this newsgroup so friendly? The vast majority of people who post are here to talk about spanking rather than to argue. Many feel that a.s.s. has the highest signal-to-noise ratio of any of the alt.sex newsgroups. People whose only contributions are flames are not well received here. 1.3 Is spanking a form of BDSM? Whether one considers spanking as a sub-set of BDSM (bondage, discipline, sado-masochism) is a matter of personal preference. Some people relate only to spanking, while some relate to the broader spectrum of BDSM. 1.4 What is the difference between spanking and spousal abuse? At a minimum, the difference would be whether there was consent of the person receiving the spanking. If it is an erotic spanking, the receiver has the right to getting some kind of pleasure of it. If it is for real life discipline, there has to be a clear understanding of the conditions of that framework, and the consent of the receiver to those conditions. See Section 5 of this FAQ for more detailed discussions of consensuality. 1.5 What is the difference between spanking and flagellation? Spanking is a subset of flagellation. The spankings of interest to a.s.s. are reminiscent of childhood spankings that were administered at home and school and that were applied primarily to the buttocks. This includes spankings with hands, paddles, belts, straps, hairbrushes, switches, and canes.

However, a woman must feel safe before she can give up control and surrender. Therefore, you must first earn her trust before attempting the game of erotic spanking. You must equate the spanking with sexual pleasure, eschewing any anger, sado-masochistic impulses or desire to humiliate her. The tacit understanding, no matter what the role play, should be that spanking is a form of foreplay and that orgasm is the goal of both players. Therefore, the actual spanks should be mixed with caresses and gentle rubbing of her bottom and genitalia, and other foreplay if possible.

sexual spanking


To use spanking in your sexual repertoire, it is always good to do a little role playing. You can play the stern guardian or headmaster punishing the naughty schoolgirl, or the offended husband or lover pretending to punish his wife or girlfriend for some imaginary transgression.

There are hundreds of roles that can be used as an "excuse" to give your lover a sexy over-the-knee spanking, but whatever role you choose to play, here are some tips to make it especially sexy:

1- Give her a specific "punishment" time and make her wait for it
The anticipation will add to her sexual arousal and increase her receptivity. You can accentuate this by making her wear ben wa balls or play with herself at regular intervals while waiting for her spanking. Of course, you will want to ensure that she obeys your instructions, and that she knows her spanking will be harder if she disobeys.

2- Order her to "prepare herself" for her spanking
This could mean taking a bath and making herself clean and beautiful, or dressing in a particular way (e.g. in a schoolgirl outfit, in particular lingerie or in another sexy costume). Tell her that the length of her spanking will depend on how beautiful you find her at the appointed time. These acts of preparing herself will have a direct effect on her state of arousal, as it will make her think about it constantly.

3- Take your time to inspect her appearance when she presents herself for her spanking
Comment on every aspect that might add to her punishment or subtract from it, and let your eyes and hands inspect every inch of her body. The intense scrutiny you are giving her will intensify her excitement.

4- Before beginning the spanking, make her perform a ritual
This could be kneeling in front of you and begging forgiveness for the imaginary transgression. Always agree that she will be forgiven after her "punishment," as you don't want to humiliate her. You should act as if you are only spanking her "for her own good," and you might even tell her about how you intend to ravish her if she is a "good girl" during her spanking.

5- When she is across your knees, take your time before starting
Play with her bottom, squeezing and "testing" its firmness and fullness -- and you can feel between her legs to see if she is getting wet. Tell her what you are going to do to her bottom, and how it will look in a few minutes. If you feel her trembling with excitement, you know she is really ready!

6- Ease into the heavier spanking
When you actually start the spanking, you may start by spanking her over her clothing, then over her panties (if you have her wearing them). Once you have warmed her bottom, you will always want to spank her on her bare bottom, as that is the sexiest kind of spanking.

Alternate a dozen or so spanks with rubs of her bottom, using firm but very sexual stroking to spread the warmth all over her rump. A finger between her legs can be used to get her breathing faster. You can also alternate spanks with gentle rubbing of her clitoris, tugging of her labia or caressing of her anus. This will make her associate spanking with other pleasurable sensations, thus conditioning her to get aroused to spanking. Take your time, savoring every smack and every feel of that delectable behind.

7. Use the right technique
The slightly cupped palm with fingers together is the best way to spank, as it makes a good smacking sound and reddens the skin without causing excessive pain. If she seems to be unmoved by such spanks, you can give her a few with a flat palm and spread (relaxed) fingers -- those are the stingiest -- until she squirms or responds.

A slow tempo, with an irregular rhythm, is the best technique, as the moments of anticipation between each stroke add to the tension; and if she cannot tell when the next stroke might fall, it is doubly effective in increasing her arousal. Again, take your time. Remember, it is not the number of spanks or how hard they are that brings her to a high state of sexual readiness. It is how long and how deeply she feels her submissive helplessness and the total sexual stimulation of her bottom that is the key.

 

spank her right


A really good spanker can sometimes bring his partner to climax from such a sexy over-the-knee spanking. But every lover who knows his partner's symptoms of arousal can judge when the time is right to shift her from the spanking position to implement on his erect shaft, which should be hard and ready from having her naked bottom squirming over it.

So, Howard, junk the Robo-spanker! Take Dr. Z's advice, and learn to use your hands!

Dr. Victoria Zdrok earned her Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology from Drexel University, a J.D. from Villanova Law School and her certificate in sex therapy from New Jersey School of Medicine. She is the author of Anatomy of Pleasure, and is the monthly sex advice columnist for Penthouse Magazine (for whom she was 2004 Pet of the Year). You can ask her questions three times.

On my last visit to The Howard Stern Show, Howard thought to "punish" me by putting me in his "Robo-spanker." This fiendish machine consists of a padded bench on which the victim kneels with her bottom projecting in the air, while a big wooden paddle whacks her behind.

Although Howard thought he was "putting me to the torture" to make me "talk" about my relationship with JFK Jr., what he was really doing was turning me on! Howard was incredulous. "You like that?" he asked. "Well, I really prefer a hand spanking," I said, "but this is not bad!"

 

for the love of spanking


Yes, spanking can be sexy, and a majority of women have fantasies about being spanked. Most men, too, find spanking a woman to be a strong sexual turn-on.

But sexual spanking is not the same as the punishment spanking we may have experienced as children.

For a woman, the turn-on is not so much in the sensation of pain as it is in the feeling of helpless submission and vulnerability of being bent over her partner's lap, the attention being paid to her behind (a primary erotic zone), the feeling of a man's hand warming her buttocks, and the anticipation of sexual pleasures to come.

For a man, the arousing aspect of spanking is the feeling of control and power over his helpless lover, and the excitement of playing with her attractive bottom, turning it pink and putting her in the mood for some hot, passionate sex.

To master the art of erotic spanking, it is important to understand the following six principles:

 

The bottom is a prime erogenous zone; however, unlike other zones such as the breasts and back of the neck, the sexual arousal nerves in the bottom are buried in a layer of fat and require harder stimulation -- like in spanking -- to trigger them;

  The physiological process of sexual arousal demands that before orgasm can occur, blood must be collected and kept in the genitals and nearby areas. Spanking creates just such a physiological response, as the stinging of the skin causes blood to collect in the bottom (and simultaneously in the nearby genitals), thus accomplishing "mechanically" what caresses and kisses do psychologically;

  A properly done spanking, such as over the knee or with a cushion or other support propping up the woman's bottom, causes the bottom to squirm from the sting, simultaneously resulting in her rubbing her clitoris on the supporting knee, pillow, etc.

  The feeling of "surrender" or submission is an important part of a woman's sexual response, as many women need to give up control and give themselves "permission" to feel sexual. Spanking incites and reinforces such feelings;

The last two spanking principles, and some specific tips to make it really hot

However, a woman must feel safe before she can give up control and surrender. Therefore, you must first earn her trust before attempting the game of erotic spanking. You must equate the spanking with sexual pleasure, eschewing any anger, sado-masochistic impulses or desire to humiliate her.

  The tacit understanding, no matter what the role play, should be that spanking is a form of foreplay and that orgasm is the goal of both players. Therefore, the actual spanks should be mixed with caresses and gentle rubbing of her bottom and genitalia, and other foreplay if possible.

 

Erotic spanking is the practice of another for the sexual gratification of either or both parties. Erotic spanking can be regarded as a form of Bondage is also combined occasionally with erotic spankings, to heighten sexual arousal and feelings of helplessness of the spankee, but is very common in BDSM relationships.

Positions for spanking include:

  • over the knees (OTK) or across the lap
  • stooped over a chair or couch
  • on hands and knees (bed or floor)
  • kneeling on a bed or ottoman, stooped over with hands on the floor
  • diaper position (genital exposure to enhance humiliation)
  • bent under the arm of the spanker
  • lying face down on a bed
  • birching block
  • wooden horse

Members of the

When men spank women, they may sometimes like them to dress up as a schoolgirl, or to roleplay the part of a "daughter", "secretary", "nurse", "maid" and other roles (and then proceed to lower the panties <if any> before administering the spanking). Men who enjoy being spanked (whether giving or receiving) may like women to wear some combination of a skirt, high heels, garter belt, nylons, and fancy panties; if the women are the spanker, men may enjoy women who dress and act superior, and dress the part of a sexually dominant female domestic discipline, is a form of emotional release and behavioral modification, and/or mental/physical control over the spankee by the spanker.

 

Spanking

Despite contrary notions, spanking can often be found with people who were never spanked as a child, often coming out later in life as repressed role playing/wish fulfillment.[citation needed]

These paraphilia can take on many varieties. In the erotic fiction of this type, spanking is seen as natural as a reflex as sitting on a chair or making dinner. Other types include "spanking between friends", "parent-child spankings", "sibling spanking" and authoritarian school discipline spankings.

Spanking enthusiasts often keep at hand (privately) a variety of spanking implements such as paddles, whips, belts, etc; infrequently, these implements will also be kept on display (such as hanging together on a wall) as in the unusual, but not completely uncommon practice for a spanking paddle to be hung on display in the parents' bedroom as a continuing reminder to the children of potential punishment, when in fact it is primarily used for erotic paddlings given by one spouse to the other. (Paddles intended for actual punishment of children are not infrequently hung on display in some other area of the house <such as a hall or study>, or occasionally even in the child's own room.)[citation needed]

Playful non-erotic spanking

Sometimes spanking is done in a playful manner that is neither a form of punishment nor is it intended as an erotic act. A tradition that often begins with childhood and can continue to adulthood is a "birthday spanking". This type of spanking is most often associated with a birthday celebration during which sometimes the person celebrating the birthday is spanked playfully, one time for each year of their life - and then some more "to be good on and to grow on," sometimes also "for luck and for love." It is not meant to hurt or overly humiliate the spanked party (although sometimes a paddle is used, and occasionally it is given on the bare bottom). Often the act is also associated with sports participants, who congratulatorily slap one another on the bottom.[citation needed]

It is a common practice in the United States for a bachelor party, while his drunk friends cheer her on. This can be done either on the stage at a strip club or by a stripper or strippers hired for a private bachelor party.[citation needed]

More rarely, at her wedding shower a bride-to-be is given a "gag gift" such as a pair of pink panties that say "Remove before spanking" on the back; and her friends may threaten to have her "try them out" (by having them spank or paddle her) to "see how they work." Similarly, the groom may as a gag be given a paddle with step-by-step "How to spank your wife" instructions painted on it.[citation needed]

Rituals, well structured BDSM scenes, are fun and especially exciting.

What follows is a punishment scene ritual that includes the most important feelings for the one to be punished: anticipation, fear, pain and humiliation.

This ritual is not designed for erotic stimulation, but for using when the bottom is going to be "actually" punished for some misconduct. I imagine a "father" or "mother" punishing a "child", or a "teacher" to a "pupil" but it can also be used for a "slave" (all this quotes are for emphasizing that this ritual is for an erotic fantasy among consenting adults, not for actually punishing a child, what we not condone).

You can follow this script to the word or you can use it as a base for developing your own custom one.

 

1 Waiting At the corner Fully dressed but barefoot.

At this stage, the punished should not know if the corner time will be the only punishment or the prelude for a more severe one. For adding to the anticipation, sometimes this should be the only punishment.

2 Lecture Standing or kneeling in front of the top. Explain to the subject:

- why s/he is to be punished

- which is the punishment 

- how s/he should behave in the future

- and so on..

The lecture should be long, boring and humiliating. Slaps in the face (soft and with the fingers or the palm of the hand) can be used to maintain the attention, correct errors and underline concepts. To be sure that the subject is paying attention, s/he can be made to repeat the last word or sentence every now and then.

3 Preparation Idem Bare (or make the subject bare) the part to be punished. If the flogging will be in the buttocks, slip the trousers to the ankles or roll the skirt up, take down the underwear to the knees, roll up the shirt. If on the back, take off the shirt and the bra (if used). If the punishment is on the legs, take off the skirt or trousers. Take him/her to the corner by the ear, or pushing them, and giving some blows as a demo.
4 Waiting At the corner For anticipation
5 Spanking   As desired
6 Rest At the corner Until s/he quiets down
If more than one spanking is required, repeat steps 4 to 6
7 Preparation  At the corner Remind the subject to prepare for the examination
8 Test On the knees The punished must answer:

- why s/he was punished

- how it hurt

- how s/he plans to behave in the future

- what was the lesson he/she learnt.

-and so on...

It must be for real, long and humiliating. Test obedience with orders. Correct with light slaps on the face.

If the subject doesn't pass (if s/he gives wrong answers, doesn't look repentant enough, doesn't obey or the punisher deems it necessary) go back to point 4 and repeat.

The punished should fail the test now and then, to make it real, to make the test dreaded.

9 Pardon and thanks On the knees The punished must humbly ask for pardon, thank the punisher, kiss or lick the implement or the hands or feet of the punisher.

 

What do you think? Seems like fun? Try it and tell us.

 

. COMMONLY USED TERMS AND ABBREVIATIONS 3.1 Keywords Found in Story Subject Lines Note: The terms listed below are by no means required to post a story. They are simply guidelines to help both those who are looking for a particular type of story and those who are turned off by certain activities. Putting keywords in the subject line will give readers an idea of the story content without having to download the entire post. It is not necessary to choose words from each category below, only the ones you feel are important for the readers to know. Participants ------------ x/y x spanks y, where x and y are: F adult female f young female M adult male m young male e.g. F/m adult female spanks young male M/Ff adult male spanks an adult female and a young female MF/fm A boy and girl are spanked by two adults Note: if two people switch roles, use 'F/M,M/F', not 'FM/MF' which implies there are four people in the scene ------------------------------

 4. SPANKING ORIGINS, FANTASIES, EROTICISM 4.1 I've been fascinated by spanking since I was a child. Am I alone? No. Just the traffic on this newsgroup is indicative of a widespread interest in spanking. Vendors of spanking erotica have customer bases of thousands. Double entendre's about spanking abound on sitcoms. Bondage parlors around the world have always done a brisk business in spankings. You have plenty of company. 4.2 Do my fantasies have to be consistent with my values and ethics? No. Just as it is possible to have a rape fantasy without condoning rape, it is possible to fantasize about spanking without condoning physical abuse. Many of us feel that our actions must be consistent with our values and that by playing spanking games that are safe and consensual, we remain within our ethical bounds. 4.3 Will my interest in spanking escalate into other forms of kinky sex? Maybe, maybe not. If you already relate to other forms of BDSM or kinkiness, then exploring spanking may allow you to feel comfortable with further explorations. However, there are many people who relate to spanking only and play with it their entire lives without a desire to "diversify". ------------------------------

5. SPANKING PLAY 5.1 I'd like to reveal my spanking interests to my partner but am afraid of being rebuffed. What should I do? There are actually multiple answers to this question, depending on the source of your nervousness. First, keep in mind that if spanking is a sexual turn on for you, it should be treated as any other sexual turn on should be treated in your relationship. If it's 'too early' for you to be talking about sex at all, it's probably too early for you to be talking about spanking. However, assuming you're already talking about sex, what special things should you do to talk about spanking as a part of sexplay? First, you should try to be relaxed over your desires. If you seem too nervous, your partner might pick up on your nervousness, and react badly to it. Keep in mind that playful swats are exchanged in many 'normal' relationships; what you're asking about is just more of this 'normal' playfulness that couples engage in. Also keep in mind that every step of your play will be consensual, so no one will be forced into something s/he dislikes. Because of these two items, you have no reason to feel bad about asking for spanking play, in particular. There is some reason to be nervous that your partner will refuse to engage in spanking play at all; that's a danger of asking for any form of sexual expression. While it can be painful to find that you can not engage in your favorite fantasies with someone you love, it is nevertheless one of the risks of any relationship and any fantasy. But what if you've approached everything well, and your partner still reacts badly? Well, try to figure out why you got a bad reaction. Your partner or someone close to your partner may have been spanked or beaten as a child, and talk about spanking might open those bad memories back up. In this case, make sure your partner realizes that you were talking about playful spankings, not real ones, and then try to let the subject drop for the time being unless your partner wants to discuss it further. It's also possible that your partner doesn't have severe emotional problems with spankings, but simply considers spankings as sexplay 'weird' or 'sick'. In this case, you have to decide if the relationship is worth continuing. A warning: while people are often irrational about what is 'proper' sexplay, that irrationality should not splash back onto you! If your partner decides that spanking is not good sexplay, that's one thing; if your partner considers YOU to be 'sick' for wanting to engage in spanking play, there's something seriously wrong with your relationship. Partners should not consider each other's desires to be sick, even if they don't want to engage in them personally. 5.2 I've never been spanked before but would like to be. What should I do? If you're adverse to asking for a spanking, you can try being teasing and 'naughty' and hinting that you deserve one; however, unless your partner is already into spanking, and unless you are looking for fairly mild, playful spankings, you'll probably have to talk to your partner sooner or later about your desires. In some senses, it is easier to be a spankee than a spanker. You don't have to worry about your partner thinking that you want to hurt him or her. However, asking for a spanking comes with it's own set of dangers. The biggest thing you want to be careful about is pressuring your partner. Unless your partner is already into spanking, it's very likely that s/he has no idea what your looking for, and thus, has no idea what you want. This can be very nerve wracking! It is not easy to do something that you know is hurtful to someone you care for. Be patient. Keep in mind that your partner can't read your mind, and thus can't feel the pleasure that comes with the pain of a spanking. Keep in mind also that your partner doesn't know what effect s/he is having on your bottom; try to help teach your partner what you like without being discouraging. Most importantly, give your partner time to get used to each new 'level' of spanking. Do not try to push your partner too fast; that's a sure recipe for making your partner frightened, or making your partner feel inadequate. Try to react to spanking that you enjoy so that it's clear that your partner made you happy; this helps a spanker get over the nervousness of 'hurting' you. Also, try to reward your partner for spanking you; this is not only a good relationship builder, it's also a good way to help your partner get turned on by spanking you. Most importantly, don't be afraid to guide your partner; you may feel silly laying over your partner's lap and saying "okay, try just a bit harder this time", but the long term benefits are worth it. . . both in getting better spankings, and in improving communication. 5.3 I've never given a spanking before but would like to. What should I do? In some ways, this is easier than wanting to be spanked, because you can take a more active role. However, unless your partner is already into receiving spankings, or unless your desires are satisfied by giving fairly mild spankings, you'll probably want to talk to your partner about your desires sooner or later. First, be clear about your desires. If you can't get turned on except by fairly severe spankings, you may well end up having to find someone who is already into being spanked. While most people can end up dealing with mild spankings, severe spanking is definitely not a taste that you can or should expect someone to acquire. If you can be satisfied with playful, relatively mild spankings, however, there are still some issues to keep in mind. First, before even thinking about pain, think about the emotional aspects. Never spank someone for a 'real' fault or mistake unless your relationship already has that aspect to it. Never suggest that your partner is submissive in any way, shape, or form, other than in taking a spanking, unless your relationship already has that aspect to it. Most importantly, learn and respect your partner's preferences in dealing with a spanking; you're already asking to do something 'harmful' to your partner; don't push your partner into bad emotional states at the same time! Next, start slowly. The best 'first swat' is one that is given over full clothing as a teasing or playful gesture. This lets you measure your partner's emotional reaction to spanking, and lets you decide if you want to press the issue. Be careful on those first few swats! A single spank that hits too hard might give your partner the idea that you're into 'pain', not 'spanking'. If your partner reacts well to these initial swats, you might want to see how far you can go. If you do so, however, be extremely careful! Yes, it can be a bit embarrassing to admit that you would like to take your partner over your knee and administer a good spanking; it can be a lot worse to have to apologize for having hurt your partner, either physically or emotionally. In any case, patience is an absolute necessity. If your partner isn't 'naturally' into spanking, you have to make sure that every spanking you administer is a pleasant experience. Since the spanking itself my not be pleasant, make sure that your partner always gets something pleasant out of the experience. This helps link your playful spankings to pleasure for your partner, and will actually help your partner enjoy more and even harder spankings. Work slowly, not just physically, but psychologically. If your partner ends up enjoying light spanks over underpants, do not assume that your partner will like the same 'physical level' of spanks on the bare bottom! There is little physical difference, but the psychological difference is immense. When working on an uncertain person, spank fairly gently, and mix your hard spanks with softer ones, and with lots of rubbing and caresses. Even a person who doesn't specifically like spankings might learn to enjoy a few hard swats to bring about a sting, followed by kisses and caresses for contrast. Finally, and most importantly, let your partner be your guide. Learn to read your partner for signs that say when you're spanking too hard. Also learn to read your partner for when you've actually gotten to the 'right' level of spanking! While your spankings may simply be something your partner 'puts up with' for the pleasure of being your lover, it's even better if you both end up enjoying the spankings. 5.4 I feel silly when I try to play out spankings. How do I make my experiences meet my fantasies? One thing that you have to keep in mind is that your fantasies are 'perfect images' while your experiences are not. In your mind, no one ever spanks too hard, too light, too fast, or too slow. That's one reason for your first experiences not working out. The majority of other issues deal with the imagery and energy of the scene. First, if you don't enjoy role play, and there's role playing involved in your first spankings, you're being distracted from the 'main event'. . . similarly, if you love role play, but aren't getting any, you're not getting any 'foreplay', as it were, before the main event. Negotiation regarding the level and type of role play with your partner will help a lot. However, what if the level and type of role play seems to be working and you still. . . well, feel silly getting into these roles? It does take practice. There's a certain kind of 'magic' woven through roleplaying, and the 'spell' is best served through completely letting yourself go into the role. The "scolding parent" will have a harder time keeping a straight face if the "repentant teen" can't. . . but if the teen looks nervous and embarrassed and guilty, the parent will have a much easier time staying in character, which will make the scene seem more real and more enjoyable for everyone. It might well feel silly at first; it does quickly get easier over time. 5.5 What does consensuality mean? In general, consensuality means that both parties (the spanker and the spankee) wish to engage in spanking play with each other and both are able to stop the play at any time for any reason. Consensuality is more difficult to define for spanking than for other types of erotic play. For some, getting punished against one's will for a misdeed is a powerful fantasy. To play out this fantasy thus requires some degree of nonconsent. However, at some point before the activity there should have been some sort of understanding of what the conditions or boundaries would be. A pleasurable (even if painful) experience for both participants should be the ultimate goal of an erotic spanking session. 5.6 What is a safeword? A safeword is a word that a spankee may use to stop spanking play immediately. A safeword serves two purposes. It functions as a safety valve to prevent the prolonged violation of limits. And, it allows the spankee to engage in mock protests without confusing the spanker. Common safewords are "red", "mercy", "uncle", and believe it or not "aardvark" (it must be a west-coast thing). Some people also use cautionary words such as "yellow" to signal that the play is getting close to the limits and should be softened but not stopped. Safewords seem to be more widely used in the general SM scene than in the spanking scene; however, it is considered wise practice especially when playing with someone for the first time. There are some pitfalls to watch for, however. First of all, the use of a safeword does not relieve the spanker of their responsibility to read and respond to non-verbal cues. Safewords can give a false sense of security to both parties which is dangerous if other forms of communication are ignored. Also, it is considered bad form to intentionally force someone to use their safeword. 5.7 Is there a consensus here regarding consensuality and safewords? Yes and no. It is a commonly held view here that spanking play should be consensual; however, a number of tedious, circular discussions have occurred regarding the right of a submissive to relinquish consensuality (but isn't that still consensual?) or the necessity of an explicit safeword (otherwise you don't have true consensuality). This issue stirs extremely strong emotions for no apparent reason. The consensus here is that it is not always necessary to use a safeword to