Saturday, 28 December 2013

Barbara O'Toole

 The artist known as 'Barb':




Any long time fan of spanking art has seen her work. Her talent and the care she puts into her art shines through in every piece. She has set a high standard for the rest of us to strive for, and has always been one of my inspirations.

Alex over at 'Embarrassing and Fun' recently posted a notice that she is suffering from a serious illness and she and her husband are struggling with medical costs. So, to help with the expenses, they are offering a portfolio of 10 of her most recent pieces for sale. These new works are, of course, not available otherwise, so I can't post any examples, but you can find more information, about her and the portfolio,HERE

MY APOLOGIES FOR THE BROKEN LINK - IT SHOULD BE FINE NOW.

BLOGGERS! PLEASE HELP BARB BY POSTING THE ABOVE LINK. WE ALL WANT TO SEE BARB RECOVER AND ENRICH THE SPANKING ART WORLD FOR MANY YEARS TO COME.

Friday, 20 December 2013

SEASON'S BEATINGS



Hope you're Christmas is as nice as this couple's is shaping up to be.

As for me, all I want for Christmas is a short-skirted, 1950's babysitter in a box who will spank me when I need it (and sometimes when I don't)....


Ok, then.
... hmmmm...... and maybe Laura Petrie all nicely wrapped up for the holidays?


And here I thought I would have been on Santa's naughty list.

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

More Babysitters

I got the distinct impression from comments on my last illo that babysitters are as popular a theme for many of you as for me. So....










Saturday, 14 December 2013

Guest Story

Recently, I received a story from a contributor to the Library of Spanking Fiction, who asked if I would be willing to post it on the blog. While this blog is primarily a personal indulgence, it occurred to me that it wouldn't hurt to let someone else have a say now and then. After all, it allows me to persuade myself I'm not really so narcissistic as my staff of therapists insists....




 PERCEPTIONS AGAIN
by Lewis Stone
(aka Canadian Spankee)

Suzy had a tight grip on Arnold’s wrist along with his elbow as she pulled him toward his bedroom.  Arnold was trying to retreat to the living room, or better still to the front door of the house to get out.  They had been in a wrestling match for the past five minutes when Arnold refused to bend over her knee after she had told him several times.  Whatever the reason for his spanking was now minor compared to the fight to determine whether he had to follow her instructions for the next two months while his parents were in Australia.  Suzy was four years older and had spent considerable time looking after him when he was younger.

Arnold had heard his father say to Suzy, “Please do not hesitate to put Arnold over your knee and paddle him any time you think he deserves it.”  His mother then added while looking directly at him, “He is used to getting his butt walloped.  We always pull his pants and shorts down.  I hope you do the same.”

He had requested to stay by himself in the family home, but his dad said three months was too long to leave any eighteen-year-old boy up to his own devices.  Arnold argued to the point where his mom had brought the paddle out and threatened to use it unless he agreed with them.  Knowing the paddle would burn his butt, he accepted living with Suzy, but that did not mean he liked or agreed with it.

They got along fine for the first ten days, and then things had gone downhill from there.  He missed three night curfews in a row and failed to do any of his chores around the house for the entire week.  Missing that final curfew by over an hour had bought the order from Suzy to bend over her knee, but he refused.  The fight was on and he had not expected her to be stronger than him.

Their fight did not include punches and kicks one would associate with a street fighter, rather one where Arnold tried to stop her from forcing him to do something.  He considered punching hard enough to knock her down, but was not sure of the results if he did that.  He had no desire to hurt Suzy, and the fact was, she was no slouch physically and would likely punch and kick back.  Suzy may involve the police if things went that far and moving out would mean his parents would come home.  They would make his life a living hell for a month if not longer. 

Suzy was getting madder by the minute, “Arnold, quit fighting this minute.  I guarantee you will pay for it over my knee for much longer than you want to be there.”

He was pulling back and almost slipped out of her grasp, but she managed to grab him with her other hand before he could get back to the living room.  To stop the procession to his bedroom where he knew her paddle waited for him on the bed, he sat down in the middle of the hallway.  Suzy sighed and said, “Have it your way mister.  I warned you, so remember that.” 

Grabbing his one leg, she removed his shoe and sock, and then did the same to his other foot.  Once his shoes were off, she started tugging at the legs of his jeans.  Arnold wore jeans that fit half way down his butt because that was the style of the day.  This was the one time he regretted he always followed the latest styles.  He tried to hold on to his jeans with one hand while trying to pry her hands off his pant leg with the other, but knew he was losing ground when he saw his pants down at his knees and going down faster every moment. 

Giving up on keeping his jeans on Arnold tried to scramble back to the front of the house.  He made it about ten steps before he tripped on his pants now around his ankles and fell to the floor face first.  Suzy grabbed both his feet and started dragging him toward the bedroom.  The ten steps he had taken in the opposite direction soon disappeared and he ended up almost right at his bedroom door before he managed to grab onto the bathroom doorjamb and stop his backward movement. 

“I will not tell you again Arnold, give up now!  You are going to lose whether you want to admit it or not, so things are only going to get worse from here on.  Stand up and get in the bedroom now!”

Arnold did not take more of a second to look at her and scowl while shouting, “I will not let you spank me.  I am too old to be spanked, and for you to be taking off my pants off, you pervert!”

Hearing him call her a pervert was the last straw for Suzy, there was no way she was going to accept such crap from a teenager who thought the world owed him everything while he did as little as possible.  She grabbed both his ears and twisted them hard enough that he squealed in pain.  “Now Arnold you have a choice, you can do as I say or I will continue twisting, entirely up to you.”

Arnold stood up, but refused to walk for the first thirty seconds and then one-step at a time he edged closer to the bedroom.  He would manage to break her grip on one of his ears, but Suzy would hold on to and twist his other ear.  Gradually he was getting closer and closer to that paddle on the bed and being over her knee. 

Arnold felt tears appear in his eyes as the frustration of losing a battle he knew he had lost within the first minute of starting it, welled up inside him.  He managed to stop walking about three feet from the bed and fought successfully to almost escape, but almost was not good enough.  He managed to go back two feet before having to go toward the bed once again.  Finally, in complete exasperation he dropped his hands by his side and yelled, “OK, you win!  I give up!”

Suzy quickly guided him to stand beside the bed.  “You stay right there and don’t you dare move one muscle!”

Keeping an eye on him, she shut the door to the bedroom and stood by the corner of the bed, within easy reach of her paddle.  She was prepared if he made a move to escape, so when he bolted toward the door she was ready for him.  Suzy stuck her foot out in front of him and he crashed to the floor in a heap.

“Not so fast mister!  Now stand up and get back over here unless you want to continue this fight.  I suggest you give up right now.”

Arnold lie on the floor and considered his chances of escape.  She was between him and the door, and there was no other way out of the room.  He considered just lying there, but did not want to give her an opportunity to twist his ears again.

Suzy spoke again, “I said get up and stand by the bed now!  You got ten seconds or else I will take it you want to fight again.  I am counting to ten Arnold.”

She got to eight before he stood and moved beside the bed.  She maintained her position between him and the door while she gave more orders.  “Now remove your shirt and your underpants and put them on the bed.  Do it now Arnold, or else!”

He removed his shirt, but hesitated on taking down his underwear.  Suzy’s firm voice cut through the dead silence in the room.  “Arnold you do not have anything I have not seen before.  I baby sat when you were younger and I spanked that bare bottom of yours many times.  Get those shorts off; you will not like it if I have to do it.”

When Arnold finally threw his shorts on the bed, she knew he would no longer run.  She could tell by his downcast attitude he had given up the fight, even if it was only because he had lost the physical battle he never expected to lose.

She sat on the corner of the bedside, pushing her thighs right up against him.  Arnold had not had a growth spurt since he was fourteen so he was on the short side for a teenager his age.  The fact he was short paid off as now Suzy’s thighs covered his groin area.

Suzy picked up his chin in her hand and looking in his eyes said, “You may never believe this Arnold, but I love you like I would my own brother if I had one.  With your parents away so much when you were under fourteen, I felt like your sister, and I still have those feelings toward you.” 

Arnold nodded; his feelings for her were much as if she was his sister.  “I could have stayed at home by myself, and this would not have happened.  Why did my parents force me to stay here?  I could have stayed home and there would be no trouble.”

She could hear the frustration in his voice before she replied, “Well first off, you broke your curfew three nights in a row, and you have not done a single chore around this house for a week.  Do you think that is a sign of a man able to stay home by himself for three months without getting into trouble?”

He only shrugged his shoulders in response, so Suzy continued.  “Your parents do not want to have you in trouble because they failed in looking after you.  Having you live here was supposed to be fun.  I was looking forward to having a man around the place.”

“Really, you wanted me to come?”

Suzy looked at him, “Yes Arnold I wanted you here.  I thought we could be two adults instead of having the child babysitter relationship.  I wanted a new relationship between us as adults loving the other as kin do.  A relationship of mutual respect, two equals who have an understanding.”

Arnold looked at her, “I would like the same, but I am still mad about having to live here.  I am an adult and want to be treated like one.”  By the time he finished speaking, he felt a tear roll down his cheek.  He had not realized just how deeply he meant what he had said.

Suzy reached over and hugged him, and then sat back and picked up her paddle.  “You know we have to settle what happened here, don’t you?  I cannot and will not put up with you living here and not abiding by the rules.  If you were my roommate I would ask you to leave, but this is different so you know what is going to happen now, right?”

Arnold lowered his head, “I do not want you to paddle me, treat me like you would an adult.”

Suzy could hear the rebellion in his voice.  She knew she would have another fight on her hands if she did not act quickly.  She put her hand around the back of his neck and pushed down toward her knee, all the while saying, “Enough of the attitude mister, over you go and don’t even think about trying to fight anymore!”

He fought for ten seconds and then allowed himself to be pushed over her lap.  Arnold knew she had to strength to over power him if it came to that, and now without any clothing he had no place to escape anyway.  Soon he felt his toes leave the floor on one side of her lap while his nose was just inches from the carpet on the other side.  He knew he had about thirty seconds to rebel if he was going to do so, as once the paddling started he would submit to her.

He was trying to wiggle off her knee when he felt the first paddle smack across his one butt cheek, quickly followed by another across the other cheek, followed by a third across the middle of his bottom.  His reacted by saying “ow” and jerking his head up in response to each whack on his bare bottom.  The paddle was coming down at the rate of ninety per minute so he had no time to think between the smacks on his bare butt.

Suzy knew he had ideas of rebelling so as soon as his position allowed her paddle access to his bum, she started smacking him.  She held the paddle twelve inches away before bringing it across his rear end.  She knew the speed of the smacks would end any thoughts he may be having.  He was still in a fight or flight mode and she had to get the thought of escape out of his mind.

Arnold’s thoughts of flight took just over a minute before he gave up; realizing he had lost the battle.  The more smacks she succeeded in delivering the more he became subject to her control.  Soon all he could think about was her wooden paddle and he started pleading with her to stop.  His pleas included saying he would do anything she wanted.  In addition, he included statements of how sorry he was for his behaviour. 

Suzy felt him give in after smacking his ass two dozen times.  His pleas while she continued rising and letting the paddle fall where it may, convinced her that she had won the fight, at least for the day anyway.  She settled into a routine of thirty-five times a minute, raising the paddle eighteen inches before bringing it down.  She could tell by his actions both physically and vocally that he was feeling everything she wanted him to experience.

Arnold was not aware of the passing of time or any other experience besides that paddle smacking his backside.  He kicked, bounced, and writhed on Suzy’s lap the entire time, all the while pleading between howling and sobbing for it to stop.  Life for him during those few minutes consisted solely of her paddle and his butt.  They were the only two things in the world that existed for him at that time.

Stopping her paddle after four minutes, she let him settle down before she spoke.  “Arnold, you will stand up and go get me the bath brush from the shower stall in my room.  When you return, you will go back over my lap and I will paddle you again for fighting after I warned you that things would get worse for you.  Now get going and be quick about it.”

Arnold pleaded one more time, “Please Suzy, let’s just forget about it.”

Suzy shook her head, “No Arnold, we are not going to just forget this.  This could have been over an hour ago if you had done what I told you in the first place.  A few dozen good whacks from my hand and your promise to behave were all it would have taken.  You need someone to be an adult in your life and right now, I am it.  Go get that bath brush, the longer you take the longer I am going to use it to smack that bare bum of yours.”

He left the bedroom at a slow walk and she heard him enter her room and shut the door.  Suzy sat on his bed and waited.  She knew that bringing her that bath brush was likely the hardest thing he may have done in his life and decided to give him time to think about the paddling he would receive.  She was determined that he would learn to follow instructions and obey the rules, it was something all teens learned before becoming adults in her mind.

Five minutes later and hearing no movement she went to find him.  Entering her bedroom, she saw the open window and knew he had left the house.  A check in her closet revealed he had taken a pair of her jeans and a western style shirt before climbing out the window.  He had boots on the back porch and she had no doubt they would be gone as well.  She sighed knowing the fight would start again when he returned later that day.

She called the police when he had not shown up by the next morning, but they would not get involved with a missing eighteen-year-old until they had been gone over twenty-four hours.  The next day she found he had cleared out his saving account of all of his college savings, having told the bank he needed to pay his tuition in advance.  The police search was not successful until almost eight months later.  Arnold had turned nineteen and the police told his family he was alive and well, but would not reveal his location because he had requested no contact with them.

His parents returned early from Australia to help search for him, but Arnold never contacted them or any other relative until two years later.  Suzy was getting back from a friend’s wedding one afternoon when a young man walked up to her. 

“Hello Suzy, I hear you have been looking for me.”

Suzy spun in her tracks, “Arnold?  It is you!  Where have you been, your parents are worried!”

Arnold shrugged, “Where I have been or where I go is not anybody’s business.”

Suzy could see he had grown much taller and had filled out in his body.  “Why did you run away Arnold?  Was it so bad just because I paddled you?”

Arnold shrugged, “It was my perception of what was happening that day Suzy, and without a way to break that perception at the time, those perceptions became truth.  At least to me it was the truth.  My parents never asked my consent or opinion on what I wanted, I had to obey, or they would paddle me.  You paddled me against my will and would have continued until I broke and submitted to you without question.  I swore an oath when I was fifteen that besides my parents no one would control me without my consent.  Considering my mental and emotional state at the time, I would have killed myself rather than let you control me, so running was the only way out I could see.”

Suzy shook her head, “That was not my intention at all Arnold, and you know it is far from the truth.  Why would I ever do that to someone I loved?”

He turned to leave while saying, “It was just my perception of things at the time Suzy.  That was all it was, just perceptions that to me were truth, whether in fact those perceptions were true or not.  I now know those perceptions were not right and decided you had to do what you did after all.”

Suzy nodded, “I was right all the time Arnold, you should have taken the paddling.  You deserved everything you got that night and more.”

He nodded and going to his car, he came back carrying a bath brush.  The brush was eighteen inches long and had a large oval head over two inches in breadth.  “I know you told me to bring your bath brush Suzy, I am hoping you will find this one will do the same job.”

She looked at him as he passed her the brush.  It has a good weight to it and knew it could deliver a mean sting to any bare bottom it had in front of it.  “Come with me mister, you have taken way to long in bringing me the brush.  I told you the longer you took the more I would paddle you and that is exactly what I plan to do.”

They were soon in the same bedroom he had been over her lap two years earlier.  “Strip off Arnold, and I do not want a single word out of your mouth or one little bit of fighting.  Is that perfectly clear?”

While he stripped, she went to find her paddle.  He would get the spanking he would have got if he had not run away that night.  Suzy found him completely naked and standing by the bed.  “OK Arnold, that is much better than the last time.” 

She sat on the corner of the bed and placing her hand on the back of his neck she pulled him across her knee.  This time there was no resistance and soon his butt cheeks were on her lap in a perfect position for spanking.  She limited her hand slaps to around two dozen as she could tell it was having little or no effect on him.  Picking up her paddle, she knew things would be different and his physical reactions to the smacks soon proved her thinking correct.

Arnold enjoyed the hand spanking, but once he got over twenty from her paddle, much of the enjoyment of being over her knee was fading fast.  He started kicking his feet slowly and moving his butt from side to side trying to avoid the paddle, which of course was impossible.  Soon his feet were moving at a much faster pace and he felt himself starting to buck up and down on her lap, the sting was coursing though his entire body.

Once he was moving on her lap and his voice let her know that her paddle had done its work, Suzy stopped just long enough to pick up the bath brush.  Starting in with a hard smack to his left butt cheek that made him howl, she started to lecture, all the while bringing the brush down hard and fast at least twenty-five times a minute.

“You had no business running away mister, none at all.  We all worried for the past two years and not a word from you.  Your parents gave up their plans in Australia because of you and I spent time and money looking for you.  You are not getting off my lap until I feel you have paid the price, and right now you have a long way to go.”

Arnold was far from thinking about anything besides that bath brush that smacked his bare backside too many times for his liking.  He wondered why he had ever decided that things with Suzy had to be finished in order to continue their friendship.  His bucking and writhing on her lap was now constant as was his toes pounding a beat of the floor on the other side of the chair.  Tears and slobber were dripping down his face; he had no control over anything besides crying out loudly to every smack of that brush.

Suzy let him stand in the corner for over half an hour before taking him back over her lap for a good ten-minute spanking from her hand.  Arnold found himself in the corner again for another half an hour and hoped things were over.  Soon however, he felt her paddle whacking his bum again for another five minutes. 

Suzy took him out of the corner the third time and twisting his ear so he had to look at her she started to speak.  “You will be back here one week from today Arnold and we are going to repeat what happened here today.  You will not run away because if you do and I see you again I will spank you again and again until you stop running, am I clear?”

He nodded his head while sobbing out, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy, let’s hope you have learned not to run away from situations you cannot control.  Now get dressed and meet me in the kitchen in half an hour.  I want to hear everything you did all the time you were gone.”

There are still divisions in his extended family on the issue of why he ran and stayed away so long.  Many people blame Arnold for running away, some blame Suzy for treating him the way she did.  A number of people blame Arnold’s parents although they deny having anything to do with his decision to run away, they were in Australia.  Others just shrug their shoulders and wonder how one’s perceptions of anything in life could be so wrong, or so right?



Sunday, 8 December 2013

Babysitter Spanking

As veteran followers of this blog may be aware, the babysitter spanking scenario still holds some lingering sway over my kinko imagination. The idea of  being a  mischievous boy again, propped across the knee of a fed up, outraged young lady intent on teaching you that she is not be trifled with is an intoxicating fancy.


Or so this young gent thought; now, however, he's beginning to have doubts - sadly for him, it's a little late for that....



Wednesday, 4 December 2013

Spreading the Cheer

My friends over at the Library of Spanking Fiction have been busy little elves, slaving away to provide a spanking hungry world with some holiday happiness:

http://xmas.lsfpublications.com


LSF Publications have released seven brand spanking new volumes of
Christmas spanking stories. With a total of 222,500 words, there is
something for everyone ... there are 5 M/F books, 1 F/F and 1 F/M. So
stuff your Christmas stockings with the following titles:
The Best Christmas Present Ever (M/F)
Blue Christmas (M/F)
One Last Christmas (M/F)
The Christmas Sprit (M/F)
Christmas at Woodbridge Manor (M/F)
Christmas Spanking F/F Femdom Tales
Christmas Spanking F/M Femdom Tales

All titles are professionally produced and very reasonably priced.
They can be bought from LSF Publications or Amazon. Further details,
including links to all the Amazon marketplaces are available here: 
 
http://xmas.lsfpublications.com 
 
 

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Saturday, 16 November 2013

The Office of Correctional Services, Pt. 10


Hi Lindsay

Haven't heard from you for awhile. Just checking up on my little sister. Is she still growing up too fast? :D

Hi Tess

Yeah, sorry. Been a rather heavy semester. Classes are more intense this year. I've only been able to go out into the woods and paint once. And things in the OCS are evolving. In September I approached Ms Hutchins and told her I wanted to learn her trade and asked her if she would be my mentor. She told me she was not surprised, that she figured it was only a matter of time before I mentioned it. "Think carefully about this," she cautioned me. "There ought to be a service like ours in every college in the country, but the truth is that positions like mine are very few and far between. There isn't much call for the correctional arts, unless you go the private route and deal with types like that one lad that wanted to be punished."
I have thought about it, long and hard, and the other side of the coin is that there isn't much I can do with a major in art and art history once I graduate either. Ms H tended to look down on that side of her profession, sort of the way my art profs look down on commercial artists, but I've always loved the work of some of those artists, and from what I understand, some of those self-employed disciplinarians do quite well. It could be a way of making a fun living until I figure out my direction in life, anyway. Of course, I didn't tell Ms. H that - I told her I respected what she did, and having the skill set she had wouldn't hurt.
She laughed at that. "Don't be so sure." But she agreed and now after the Office closes, she spends a half hour or so teaching me all the nitty gritty details on how to deal out 'correction'. I have to say, she really believes in what she does, and takes it very seriously. "The big difference between what we do and those 'other' disciplinarians do is that our intention is to discourage our clients from a return visit, whereas they have a vested interest in seeing them come back again and again. So we don't dress provocatively, or tease them or try to appeal to their libido in any way. We want their experience to be a purely unpleasant affair, for their own sakes." She had me start working with the canes, testing the various weights and how to deliver a proper stroke. She even let me take a couple home, so now I spend an hour each night thrashing the daylights out of innocent pillows.
Because school is busy, the dorms are full and it's hard to find the privacy, I don't see as much of   Royce as I did in the summer, but we still meet for coffee sometimes. When I told him about my training, he pleaded with me just to let him come over and watch me work out with the canes.  I cautioned him that I didn't dare use them on him, since we could both be tossed out of our residences, but it was okay as long as he behaved himself.
OMG, how he loved just watching me swing those canes. It got him sooo horny, he would leave all trembling in the knees and in a sweat. I think NOT punishing him was more punishing than punishing him -lol!
A couple of weeks back, I felt sorry for him and was eager myself to try out my skills on some bare flesh, so I invited him to come with me on a painting excursion into the hills. We drove well out of town to a trail I knew that was off the main hiking paths. There was even an old, abandoned woodshed - how appropriate! I told him to go cut some switches from various types of trees and bring them back for my approval, while I set up my easel and paints. While I sketched the shed, he fetched a half dozen switches of maple and birch and hemlock. I tested them out on tree trunks and approved or disapproved them. I scolded him for the ones that snapped or looked too weak to do much good, and sent him off again. 
Once I was satisfied with three or four of his offerings, I instructed him to stack the cut logs into a suitable arrangement, then drop his drawers and prostrate himself over them and wait for me. 
I made him wait for almost an hour while I laid down washes on my canvas. A couple of times I strolled over behind the shed to make sure he was still waiting patiently with his naked butt in the air. It must have been unpleasant. The logs he was lying over did not look comfortable, and there was a chill in the air that rose goosebumps on his cheeks. But to his credit, he stayed there dutifully. To keep his enthusiasm from lagging, I laid the switches and the cane I'd brought on the ground in front of him so he could look upon the instruments that would soon heat up his chilled backside. Then I strode back to my painting.
Finally, I could not take the anticipation no longer than he could, and set my brush aside. It was time to paint Royce's rear end instead. I walked behind the woodshed and leaned down real close to his face. I told him he'd been a very good boy to be so compliant and patient, and now I was going to let him have his reward. I took up a strand of maple and rubbed it over his bared bottom. His whole body tensed with excitement at the touch. I took careful aim to lay my first stroke over the center of his buttocks and then let him have it. He quivered with pleasure and I watched with fascination as a faint red stripe formed right where I'd intended. Lovely.
Well, none of the switches held up for long without splitting or snapping. I told him that he needed to work on his switch-cutting and that as he had done such a poor job of  it, I had little choice but to use the cane. At this point his bottom was scratched and marked with little red stripes, but now it was going to get serious.
I rubbed the cane on him and lightly tapped the little weals I'd made with the switches , just to tease him. "I have SO looked forward to this!" I told him. "All the times you watched me beat those pillows, I was picturing your bottom rippling beneath my cane, just as much as you were. Ready?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Well, well just see about that."
I meant to deliver a series of strokes that would generate parallel stripes evenly spaced and perpendicular to his butt crack, but my aim was only middling. I succeeded in raising some angry red welts, and several grunts and hisses from Royce, but too many of the marks were crooked or crossed each other. Clearly, I needed a lot more practice. I decided to finish him off with a flurry of six-of-the-best, delivered as fast as I could, but on the fourth one he bucked and spilled the logs under him, rolling on the ground in a heap.
All in all, it was quite the little adventure we had. We might even try to get another outing in before the really cold weather sets in. 
Got to go. Getting late, I have a paper due, and pillows to punish. 

Love, 
Lindsay



 


Tuesday, 12 November 2013

Love Our Lurkers 8

So today is the 8th annual Love Our Lurkers day in the Spanking Blogoverse, initiated by the irrepressible Bonnie over at MY BOTTOM SMARTS, in which we try to gently encourage the 99% of you who prefer to peep rather than bleep to take a more active role.

She dispatched a friend of hers to help me out this year. Let me introduce you to Miss Candace, who has something to say to you -



"I understand you've been lurking about here for months. Well, we'll have no more of that! Front and center, mister! Let's hear what you have to say for yourself!"

Umm, just a friendly piece of advice: if I were you, I'd do as Miss Candace says. She has  a short temper and a long swinging arm.

Saturday, 2 November 2013

A Tribute to a Terrific Retro Spanking Artist

The following are the works of an artist I know little of, other than I believe his or her name was Delacourt, and I think these were done in the 40's or 50's. Anyway, they are wonderful little watercolor studies, deftly crafted, that offer a range of subtle emotions and situations that make me sigh with envy.
If anyone knows more about this artist, please let me know...









Monday, 28 October 2013

Sunday, 13 October 2013

RetroFix - Raquel Welch

Truly one of the most stunning women of the swinging Sixties. If you've never seen 'Fathom', you have missed out in life.The same cannot be said for  'Myra Breckenridge', save for a brief shot where she applies a ruler to a male backside, warning of more where that came from. Sadly, no more than that was forthcoming. 


















You can watch her strut around in studded leather with a bullwhip in 'The Magic Christian', but personally I think she is much more appealing in a short nightie, armed with a hairbrush -


Call me crazy.