Monday, 21 July 2014

Follow-ups

First, let me thank all of you who left comments on my 'Woodshed Whuppin' story at the The Spanking Library. Your thoughts are appreciated and inspire me to want to do more writing to augment the artwork. I would post responses directly on the library page, but unfortunately I forgot all my login info. (If Miss Appleby over at the library ever finds out I lost all my access info, I could be in a bit of hot water. Rumor has it she has a back room for dealing with miscreants...)

Anyway, on to the next subject. I recently received this comment on the last RetroFix, re Anita Ekberg:
"I liked the part she played in "Call me Bwana" with Bob Hope. I wish you had a screen shot of her with Bob Hope over her knee trying to sew up a ripe in his trousers."

I had no idea about this scene, or the movie. I tried to hunt down a still, but the best I could come up with was the poster:


Interesting, though,  that the ad boys chose an image with overt spanking overtones to sell the flick. I guess a movie's worth of footage in Africa could not provide anything as appealing.

btw, I hope she's pulling those things out, as opposed to the other way around....

FD spanking is a rarity in movie promotion, but it does occasionally pop up. Here are a couple of examples from bygone days:



I've not seen either of these movies, so I can't vouch that they actually contain what they advertise, but I'm always intrigued that they even went down this road back then, even if it was just for a lobby card promo.

Friday, 11 July 2014

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Woodshed Time, again.

A couple years back, I did a post on a favorite fantasy of mine, of how the return of hot weather can make me dream of woodsheds and farm girls in short cut-offs armed with fresh-cut switches.
You may remember this illo:



Well, I decided to do a follow-up to it, to show what this lad had coming to him. Then I decided to add a story to flesh it all out. If you don't have the patience to read it all, you can just scroll down to this pic's sequel -

Josh loved summer. He loved the thick, sultry twilight that lingered over Guthrie’s Pond, the high-pitched cicada song that lulled the long afternoons into drowsy indolence, the shining golden mornings when the fields of wheat murmured their welcome to the sun. This Saturday morning in early July was just such a morning, and he intended to make the most of it. The sun had been up for an hour, but the house was empty. His folks had left last night for the weekend, gone down to Chicago to see about some new farm equipment. Tammy Sue’s truck was gone too, he noted. She’d said something about heading over to fix the fence along the east property line, so she would be gone all morning, at least. She’d also said something or other about painting the barn door and digging up the weeds around the house. His cousin never could sit still for a moment. She’d always been that way, a real barnstormer of a girl. Two years his senior, she had always tried to boss him about when they were younger, but Josh was seventeen now, and wasn’t going to be intimidated just because she could arm wrestle him to the ground just as well now as when they’d been kids.
                But Josh was not a kid anymore. He was an adult and could do whatever he wanted. And on this brilliant glowing morning, with the soft breeze whispering in the maples, he wanted to go fishing. He pulled on his overalls, snatched up his pole and lures, and twenty minutes later he was soaking the mud from his toes in his favorite patch of flattened grass at the edge of Guthrie’s Pond, watching the ripples billow lazily outward, making the lily pads tremble and the water insects skitter away.  He lay back, head on hands. Great  white behemoths of clouds rolled majestically overhead. Yes, it would be a perfect day. A pity Tammy Sue couldn’t appreciate it. The thought of her shifted restlessly at the edge of his consciousness like distant soft thunder, and he was not sure why it should disturb him. She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, full of vivacity and a robust sort of femininity. Josh tried to deny how it affected him – she was, after all, a relative – but he was, after all, a teenage boy, and there were scant few girls  who ever paid him the slightest heed.  He shook her out of his head, and refused to let himself go there. This was supposed to be his perfect day. He closed his eyes and let the scent of the wild ginger and lavender fill his being…
                He woke with a start. The sun was high overhead, hurtfully bright. It must have been near to noon. He’d slept the whole morning away. He reached for his lunch, and was disgusted to find a swarm of ants had beaten him to it. Dragging himself up, he sauntered back toward the house, considering whether to spend the afternoon back at the Pond or maybe riding his bike into town. He might catch a few of his friends down there and they could go –
                Tammy Sue’s truck was parked again in the driveway. Crap. He really didn’t want to see her today. She might try to invent something for him to do. Well, what if she did?  He didn’t have to do it, just ‘cause she said so -
                “HEY! Josh!”
                Josh wheeled, startled. He was near the gate to the barn. Tammy Sue was striding toward him, a paintbrush in her hand and a half-painted barn door behind her.  
                “There you are! Where the hell have you been all morning?”
                Josh swallowed. She was in those torn cut-off jeans she wore on hot days, with her shirt tied up under her bosom. Sun and sweat conspired to make her stomach and thighs gleam. She drew up at the gate, scowling. “Well?”
                “What? Is something wrong?”
                The scowl flashed into a glare. “Wrong?? Yes, something is wrong! What do I have in my hand, Josh?”
                “It’s a paintbrush.”
                “Yeah. And what am I doing with it?”
                “Looks to me like you’re painting the barn door.”
                “That’s right. And why am I painting it?”
                “You tell me.”
                “Because you’re not! You promised me last night you would. So why is it I have to do it?”
                “Me?” Had she asked him to paint the door? Josh honestly couldn’t remember now if she had or not.
                “Yes, you! What is wrong with you, anyway? I spend all morning working on that broken fence line, and then I come back to find you’re not around. The weeds aren’t dug out, the barn door isn’t painted. You know, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of this, Josh. Why it is that you think I should have do your chores for you –“
                Perhaps it was the unexpectedness of his cousin’s explosion of  anger, or the sheer force of her outrage, but Josh found himself spellbound. Her indignation was palpable, as though it reached out and grabbed him by the pit of his stomach and shook him. A wash of dismay ran over his body, followed by a rise of goosepimples. Entranced by the red anger burning in her eyes, he wasn’t even listening to what she was saying.
                “ – didn’t I? Well, didn’t I ? Josh! I want an answer!”
                What was the question? Josh had been so astounded at how beautiful Tammy Sue could be when she was hot with anger, that he’d missed the question. So he just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
                Tammy Sue stared at him in disbelief, then lowered her brow to her hand to gather herself. When she lifted her face again, the outrage had been replaced with a grim determination. “All right, you know what?  This is the last straw. I am sick of your selfishness and your lazy, good-for-nothing ways. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go into the forest and cut me a bundle of switches – “
                “A bundle of what?’
                “Switches! You know what a switch is for, at least, don’t you? I want a good four or five of them, about two feet long. They need to be supple with plenty of springiness, but sturdy. You think you can manage that, at least?”
                Realization finally sunk in, and Josh paled. “You are not serious.”
                The look that she gave him assured him otherwise. From her back pocket, she produced a Swiss army knife, which she held out to him. “Once you cut the bundle, you’re to come straight back here.”
                “And then what, you think you’re going to – “
                “Then you and me are going to take a walk to the woodshed and settle this whole question of your lack of responsibility around here. Understand?” She grabbed his hand and slapped the knife into his palm. “Now git!”
                Josh gaped at her a few moments, and while he had been clueless up to now of the peril he was in, his senses were awake and very much aware of what was happening here. He wanted to protest, to tell Tammy Sue to bug off and mind her own business, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Something in her eyes compelled him to obey.
                He wondered why he should submit himself to this outrage, even as he turned and headed off toward the trees.
                “And don’t you dare dawdle, buster!” he shout  followed him. “You got twenty minutes, or I’ll come find you.”
                Something told Josh that would not be an option he wanted to face. His emotions were rampant and unfocused as he searched the trees for suitable branches. Anger, humiliation, shame, and no little fear ran through him wildly. Underneath it all lay an urge he scarcely recognized – curiosity. Some remote little part of his brain wanted to see this through, wanted to know if Tammy Sue really would throttle him, and if she did, how much it would actually hurt. That fragment of curiosity, however indistinct, was more powerful even than the urge to run and hide until his cousin’s anger wore off.
                That wouldn’t happen, in any case. Tammy Sue was a very driven girl, once she made up her mind to do something. Josh pulled on some maple branches. Too stiff. She wanted supple and springy, she said. There was a willow down by the Pond. But Josh shied from that – willow was so supple and springy it would cut him. His butt clenched reflexively just at the thought of it.
                He settled finally on some hickory sticks, shaving off the leaves and branchlets. This would do. He gathered them together and held the bundle up. What moments before was just a bunch of sticks now looked suddenly malevolent, wicked, almost alive and eager to do its purpose. Josh swallowed. All too soon this bundle would be slicing across his backside.
                I can’t believe I’m going to go through with this.
                He sat there for several minutes, mute with a sickness growing in his gut. Then, with a start, he realized he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. He jogged back toward the barn, intent on meeting Tammy Sue’s deadline.  He arrived, panting. She was standing at the gate, arms folded, waiting impatiently. Josh handed her the knife and the switches. She examined the latter carefully, swishing the bundle back and forth to test the merits of his work.
                “I got exactly what you asked for,” Josh said defensively.
                “Yes. Seems ok. Now you’re going to get what you’ve been asking for.” She reached out, grabbing his arm and turning him round toward the woodshed with a shove. “Get going.”
                It was not a long walk, but it was the longest of Josh’s life. He kept slowing and she kept pushing. She was going on about something, but again Josh was retreating into his own thoughts, not listening to her.
                This is really happening. I’m going to get a whipping. Tammy Sue is going to whup my ass. And I’m letting her do it!
                The woodshed’s interior was cramped and musty. Logs filled up half the space. The remainder was taken up with a table stacked with pots, and the sundry of gardening tools. His mum used this as a potting shed during the spring.  Tammy Sue stepped forward and swept the table clear with a single swipe of her arm. The tools and pots clattered clamorously to the floor. The action surprised Josh with its careless violence. The look of feral resolve on her face was downright frightening. She stood back, the bundle clenched in one fist, the other planted squarely on her hip. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
                Of course, he was expected to bend himself over the table.  His knees were trembling, but he summoned what courage he had and leaned forward to prostrate himself. She stopped him, lifting him back up at the shoulder.
                “What?” he asked stupidly, though he already knew the answer.
                “What do you think? Drop the britches.”  
                “I will not! I ain’t wearing anything under them. “
                “Well, it isn’t your clothes that need a good hiding.  Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your boy parts. Turn around, drop your britches, and get your lazy butt over that table.”
                Red-faced with shame, Josh complied. Thinking he did not want his ‘parts’ dangling down in full sight, he made sure to perch them on the table before he leaned down.
                Tammy Sue took up a wide stance near the door. “This is for your own good, Josh. Remember that.”
                “Yeah. Sure.” That was a load of horse-hocky  if he’d ever heard it. He waited for what seemed a long time, his heart pounding against the table top, more afraid than he’d ever been in his life. Although he couldn’t see it, Tammy Sue was summoning her own courage – now that the moment had arrived, she was hesitating. She had taken a wooden spoon once to a neighbor’s son she’d been babysitting for, but he’d been playing with himself when her back was turned. He’d needed to be taught a lesson and she had provided it. How was this any different?
She looked at the pair of white cheeks before her, and was reminded of a turkey  gazing innocently up at the man with the axe.  Did she really want to do this? No, but  I have to do this, for Josh’s benefit. I have to!
She took a deep breath and drew the switches back….
Josh yelped at the first passage of the switches, shocked at the sharp bite into his unsuspecting skin.
   “Hurts, does it?”
                The sting receded slowly. “What do you think?”
                “I think you need a good stiff lesson.”
                Whush
                “Yaoww!” The second pass hurt more than the first. “Not so hard, Tammy!”
                Whush
                “OOOW!”
                “How’s that for not so hard? What do you think this is, Josh? A game? This is a hiding, not a massage!”
                WHUSH!
                “AA-HAOW!” Josh gripped the far table edge.
                “Next time I tell you to do something, are you going to do it?”
                “Yes –“
                “I can’t hear you….” WHUSH!
                “AOOWW! Yes, YES!”
                “That’s better. Because if you don’t, this is what you’ll get –“



                She laid down a flurry of withering slashes, not only undeterred by Josh’s squirming and squealing, but actually goaded on by it. She felt as though every time he let out a howl of pain, her message was getting through that thick skull of his.  
                Although she wasn’t keeping count, it was on the eighteenth pass that the bundle shattered, the sticks snapping, tips spinning off his striped rear end. She stopped, realizing with disgust that they were too short now to be effectively employed any further. She looked down at Josh’s heaving body, the muscles of his back quivering against the pain as he clutched the table edge. His buttocks were red and combed with thin welts from the little knots in the branches. Gasps escaped through his clenched teeth. 
                The pain was excruciating, like hot little flames that danced and skittered over his Josh’s flesh. He knew he was near to tears, but was determined not to let her see it. But he could not stop the reflexive twitching that each fresh pang elicited. Was it over? Or was she just taking a breather?
                “Josh. Can we stop now? Have you learned your lesson?”
                “Yes…” he burbled back.
                “And what lesson is that?”
                “That I’m to do my chores when I’m told to.”
                “Very well. You won’t forget, now, will you?”
                “Unh-uh. I promise!”
                “All right, then. You can get up now. “
                Josh remained right where he was.
                “Oh, come on. It can’t be all that bad. You can’t lie there all day.” She reached down to lift him up by the arm. “You can’t not do your chores just ‘cause of a whupping –“  her voice caught in her throat. Although she’d not intended it, it was impossible to not notice that Josh was sporting a full erection, throbbing and starting to drool.
                “Omigod!” Tammy Sue exclaimed, letting him go and recoiling in shock. She turned away, dropping the switches and covering her eyes. 
                Josh’s upper cheeks flushed almost as red as his lower ones already were. If he’d felt ashamed earlier, now he was mortified. He blubbered a series of ‘ sorry’s and ‘I couldn’t help it’s and ‘it just happened’ s, all of which failed to forestall the reprise of Tammy Sue’s ire. When she turned back on him, her eyes blazed with the same fury as before.
                “I can’t believe you !! What is the matter with you, anyway?! After all that and you still  think this is some sort of a – a turn-on? Is that it? You enjoy getting your bottom tanned?”
                “No! I, I –“
                “Well, you could have fooled me! What else am I supposed to think? Get – get back down on that table! We are not through here yet!
                Josh’s red face quickly went white. “No! Tammy Sue, no-“ But she pushed him back down over the table. He didn’t have the strength to resist, especially when her strength was fueled by uncontrolled anger. “You like getting your butt thrashed, do you? Well, I can keep this up as long as you want! Stay there!”
                She looked down at the spent switches. Useless. She could go cut fresh ones herself, but she didn’t want to take the time. She paced back and forth, unable to contain her outrage. How could he get turned on over that?? It must have hurt like hell. What could she use that was at hand?
                Josh lay there, trembling, hurting, frightened and mortified and still hard as a rock. Was she right? Did he like this? If not, why didn’t he just get up and run? She might well throw him back down on the table, but at least putting up a fight would argue against her accusations. Instead he was lying here, passively awaiting further punishment. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the broken switches and sighed in relief. Tammy Sue was picking apart the stacked wood, supposedly looking for some new implement to use on his burning backside. Finally, she produced a flat strand of wood, about a foot and a half long. She eyed it a moment, then strode back to him.
                “This ought to do the job!” she declared, and wasted no time landing a hard swat to his tenderized rear. It delivered a shock wave over his buttocks, appallingly painful. Josh choked down a cry, but Tammy Sue was not to be denied. She walloped and walloped, and walloped some more;  Josh was crying now, in real distress and and past caring about hiding it. Several times he tried to escape, but she shoved him back down and swung relentlessly until both of them were covered in sweat and her shoulder ached. She stood over him, bosom rising and falling with spent effort.  “Up,” she said. “Come on. Let’s have a look see.”
                Josh rolled, just enough to reveal a now flaccid member lolling limply on the table. He’d not climaxed, so she was at last mollified. She tossed her weapon onto the table with a clatter. “All right. Enough.” She wiped her brow. “Are you ever going to make me do this again, Josh?’
                “No,” Josh sobbed. “Promise.”
                She shook her head at him. “You had better not. Clean up this mess when you’re able. I want it to look like this never happened. And then do your chores. Just stay away from me the rest of the day.”
                She clomped out, and Josh let himself sag on the table, his knees still trembling too much to try to stand. He wanted to go soak his burning buns in the coolness of the Pond, but he knew he dared not, at least not until he'd done the chores Tammy Sue gave him. How the heck was he ever going to get through those with his backside on fire? He lay there for almost an hour, quietly crying as the pain and humiliation continued to sink in. His mind reran the episode, and he found himself occasionally flinching as the memory of a particular slash of the switches flashed in his brain. How long would he relive the past hour? Days, certainly. Weeks? Months? Years?
                Finally, ever so carefully, he pushed himself up. Just standing made his buttocks protest with fresh stings. He ought to pull up his britches, but he feared even the soft scrape of the denim on his rear. But he couldn’t just stand here all day with his britches around his ankles. Wriggling back into his clothes was as painful as he imagined it would be. He stumbled to the window. Outside, the afternoon was lambent with green-golds and fleecy blue skies. His friends would be laughing and joking having a grand time downtown, perhaps wondering where he was, why he was  not with them. They could hardly have guessed that he was in a cramped little shed, sobbing from an ass-whupping that would have done a slave trader proud.
                Over by the house, he could see Tammy Sue leaning on the back porch railing, staring off into space, no doubt thinking about him, perhaps wondering if he really was the type who enjoyed being walloped like an errant schoolboy. Feeling a sudden fresh flush of hot stinging, Josh winced and stared at Tammy Sue with something akin to awe, that she was capable of doing this to him. She never looked more beautiful to him than at this moment.
                It might have surprised, and perhaps thrilled Josh to know that Tammy Sue was not thinking specifically about him and his tastes, but about herself, and why having whipped the daylights out of her cousin should make her feel so alive and tingly all over.

               
               


                               

               


Saturday, 28 June 2014

Danger Girl

A short visual tribute to the amazing art of J. Scott Campbell, creator of the long-running comic series 'Danger Girl', which featured a spy ring of kick-ass women who consistently save the planet from Neo-fascists and other bottom feeders by, well, kicking their asses.





Hmm... maybe being a fascist might have a few perks, at that - particularly when it comes to Special Agent Sydney Savage, a very dangerous young lady who has no qualms about inflicting a little pain (or a lot) to teach a fascist the error of his ways....









 Sign me up with the bad guys.