Scolding & Spanking

I see a lot of spanking videos where the lady heats up her man's behind in stony deadpan silence, and  I find it a little frustrating. Getting a spanking over her knee is humiliating enough, but add a heated lecture into the mix, and now you really have a truly awe-inspiring encounter. A spankee is likely to remember the ear-burning he received long after the sting of the brush has faded. And a really good spanking should ultimately be about her communicating her message, and making sure he gets it.
Some guys, however, just don't seem to understand the spirit of the occasion without a little verbal reminder -

YOU THINK I CAN'T FEEL YOU GETTING HARD ON MY LAP?? YOU BETTER GET YOUR HEAD STRAIGHT, MISTER - THIS ISN'T FUN AND GAMES! YOU'RE BEING PUNISHED!!

RetroFix - Queen of the Spankos

The First Lady of Spanking, the original, iconic image of female dominance, the ever-glorious Bettie Page possessed that peculiar mix of innocence and raw sensuality that invaded and pervaded the stale wholesome mid-century mindset like the proverbial bull in a china shop.
Despite her girl-next-door looks, she had a withering stare -

And while most of her spanking photo adventures were on the receiving end, she was just as capable of wielding a hairbrush as wincing under one -

I've often wondered whether these Irving Klaw spanking shots were entirely posed, or if the ladies actually did spank each other..... since they were never barebottom, it's hard to say. Anyone out there have any insight on that?

Wet Saturday

I love rainy days - they present the perfect excuse to stay indoors and play in Photoshop. 

Anatomy of a Spanking Illustration

Awhile back, I received a request to do a step-by-step demo on producing a color piece. I thought I would just email it to them, but they said, 'No, no. Post it on the blog!'. I didn't think very many people would be interested - but they argued that, for those who aren't interested in the process, they can just scroll down to the finished piece.
Fair enough. If you aren't a fellow art geek, then scroll away. For those of you who are, I hope this little demo inspires you in your own efforts.

First, let me state emphatically that I do not consider myself an accomplished digital artist worthy of teaching others. If you really want to learn digital painting, there are plenty of online resources. I am too impatient to wade through them, so I just wing it. So consider this a demo of what even an amateur can do with the right software tools - I use Photoshop, almost exclusively.

I prefer to do the initial sketch in pencil on paper. However, I find cleaning up my scans and fixing the grain in the linework once they've been transferred to the digital realm such a pain in the ass that - well, let's just say not every pain in the ass is to be savored. 

Most of the time I draw from an image in my head, but for this demo, I was inspired by an old photo of dancer/actress Barrie Chase I found on Tumblr. I liked the silhouette of her pose, and infused a little imagination to make it more spankocentric:

Because I like the women and the illustrators out of the 50's and 60's, I am inspired by the look of the illustrations from that era. Illustrators back then were not afraid of linework showing in their final piece, but they were selective about it, so I decide at this point that something of the line drawing will survive to the end.

So let's start with some basic washes of color to get the tonal values established. Not too worried at this point about edges. That can all be cleaned up later. I use the skin and hair tones to guide all the other values and colors, so blocking them in is the first task.

Now some other colors can be blocked in, careful to avoid ones that will overwhelm the flesh tones. The shoes are a little intense, but that's ok - I know that they will eventually be balanced by the redness I will be adding to her hubbie's backside.

At this point, I decided to add a 'halo' around the edges, both to add a little visual energy, and allow her shorts and his shirt to read even though they are the same as the background (another trick of the old illustrators, letting some part of the foreground unpainted so the background shows through). 

On second thought, I abandoned that idea in favor of making her shorts 'pop'. Tight white shorty shorts are just too delicious to be allowed to melt into insignificance! So I added a muted color to the background, and reduced the saturation of her shoes.  I also started refining the muscle shapes and highlights. The finished piece is starting to reveal itself now. 

And we're done. A wife displaying her own artistic brushwork. You'll notice the linework is still there, but has been removed in areas where two surfaces are in contact (her thigh on the bench, or her elbow resting on her knee). I usually leave the face and hair til the last, simply because they are the most expressive element, and if I do them first, then my natural laziness might lead me to hurrying the rest. I try to get some type of expression on the face in every drawing, even if its just a subtle one like here. Even nuances of expression can say so much. I see a lot of spanking photos on the net where spanker and/or spankee  just look bored to death. I suppose the spanker often thinks she is looking stern, but it often does not come across that way. 

Hope you enjoyed my little art class.

Now THAT'S Gotta Hurt!

Whacked so hard, the impact lifted him right off her lap... what could this poor lad have done to warrant such a wallop?  I'll leave that to your spanko-maginations...

Saturday Smackdown

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 Smackdown

HAPPY LABOR DAY WEEKEND!

The Office of Correctional Services, Pt. 9

Hi Tessie
Well, here we are in the height of summer. I hope you're not still upset that I decided to stay here for the summer instead of coming home. I really needed this time for myself, wandering the hills and painting before the semester and all the craziness starts up again. This is a ghost town this time of year, and I kind of like it that way. No long line-ups in the mornings at the coffee shop, no college rowdies at the pub. I wish you could be here to enjoy it with me.

Hi Linds,
Of course I'm not upset. Just a little disappointed, maybe. I would love to come out there for a week or so, but you know how work is for me. There never seems to be a let up. I notice you have not made any mention of Brad in any of yur emails this summer - I'm assuming that's a dead horse?

Hi Tess,
I guess. Who knows? He's not contacted me since he left town and I'm certainly not contacting him. In any case, I'm not losing any sleep over it. Besides, I've had other things to keep my mind occupied.

Lindsay-
'Other things'? You mean like you've met someone else?

Tess,
No. Not exactly. I wasn't sure about telling you, but wtf? You remember that guy Royce I told you about, the one who used to call in to us at the OCS to book himself an appointment with Ms. Hutchins?
Well, I ran into him at Starbucks just after the holiday in July, and we ended up having quite the long chat. Of course, it didn't take long for the subject to come up. I jokingly chided him that we'd not heard from him in a while. He smiled uncertainly and fessed up that he wanted to make the call, and almost picked up the phone many times, but was afraid he'd pushed his luck too far already, and Ms. H would try to have him suspended or expelled.  He was probably right. She was at the end of her rope with him. At this point, I could not help but probe a little deeper into this guy's head. I was fascinated to know what drove him, what twist in his make-up made him want to get thrashed by Ms. H, or any other woman, for that matter.

He chewed his lip, as though assessing whether he wanted to entrust a near stranger with his innermost feelings. He was surprisingly shy. I feared I had pushed too hard, too fast, so I reversed gears and told him my own story, of how I had taken this job because I was desperate to get into a sorority and needed to qualify by being involved somehow with the college, and how over the months I had gotten drawn into it more and more. It was like a kind of narcotic, but a psychological one - the quirkiness, the intensity, the drama - everything I've told you just poured out of me.

I could tell he was enthralled, and his mouth was literally hanging open by the time I'd finished. I think he was as curious about what drove me as I was about what fueled him. Well, my opening up about myself had the desired effect. He started to fess up about how he'd been frequently spanked as a boy by an aunt who had raised him after his parents died. She was very old-fashioned, and not afraid to wield a hairbrush, and though he initially dreaded the mere sight of her pulling it out of her purse, eventually he became numb to it. "You can get used to anything, even being regularly hauled over someone's lap and walloped to tears. I guess I learned to associate those spankings with a young boy's natural emerging libido, probably as a defence mechanism. They were easier to endure if I learn to sexualize them. I don't mind telling you, it took some doing. But after awhile, I went beyond being numb to looking forward to the thrill of them."
"My Gawd - how often did she spank you?"
"Oh, she had me on a schedule of demerits. Every Saturday morning she would tell me to go fetch her that brush and then go over all the little things I had done to earn demerits through the week. Then it was over her knee for my weekly lesson in good behavior. The thing was, I never knew until then what I was in for, and sometimes I would get it worse than my misdemeanors seemed to warrant."
"Sounds like those demerits were an excuse to spank you. You sure she wasn't a spankophile herself?"
"Oh, I've no doubt of it. She definitely enjoyed warming my backside. But she cared, too - she would always hug me afterward, and tell me that she still loved me. But warned me the demerits would start accumulating again if I didn't behave."
"So you learned to like the pain."
He laughed, and shook his head. "That's where you're wrong. It's not the pain I enjoy, not really. Oh, it's a turn-on up to a point, for sure. But a determined arm will always trump an eager butt. Believe me, halfway through a spanking from my aunt, or a beating from Ms. Hutchins, I am NOT enjoying the pain. It's f-ing awful. At that point, all I want to do is get away, and I am seriously regretting ever volunteering for it."
That startled me. "Then- I don't understand. Why -?"
"There's a lot more to punishment than just getting beaten. As a kid, I knew that every Saturday I was going to get it, and Saturday was always arriving, so I existed in a constant state of anticipation and fear. Like I said, you learn to adopt in order to cope, so it's those things that I've become addicted to. My pain tolerance is pretty good, and I do love the vulnerability and kinkiness of being barebottomed and bent over a warm, soft lap, but the pain is a necessary evil.  Without it, though, there is no basis for anticipation or the thrill of suspense. It's a rollercoaster ride of highs prior to the act, the highs being overwhelmed and replaced by desperation,shame, and suffering; then when it's over there's this deep sense of relief and something else it's hard to pin down...."
"Gratitude?"
His eyes lit up. "Yes. You do understand, don't you?"
"I've seen it on many a student's face, even as they're fighting back the tears."
"Incredible, isn't it? There are few experiences or feelings like standing there afterward with your pants down and your buttocks burning, your whole ego structure vanquished, your mind and soul laid as bare as your bottom. It's strangely liberating. And you're right - you feel grateful."

At this point, I noticed a pair of middle-aged ladies were staring at us. They looked away when I made eye contact, and made a hurried exit. We both turned red, but had to laugh when they'd left, joking about how they would be talking about the two perverts they overheard in the cafe.
Then another impulse overtook me:
"Royce. Would you like it if I were to spank you?"
His eyes bulged and it was obvious what his answer would be. He swallowed and nodded sheepishly. "Would you? Really?"
"Yes. I'm no Ms Hutchins - I doubt I could give you a walloping like she could, but I could try."
"It's not rocket science, you know. You just aim and swing."
I laughed. "Well, there are techniques to it. I am just not practised with them."
"I would very much appreciate the privilege of assisting you in expanding your talents, if you would grant me that privilege."

We sat there in nervous silence for awhile, each of us feeling that sense of anticipation he'd been talking about. A sudden nervous anxiety was creeping in, and I decided to act before the moment lapsed. "Well. I suppose we should get on with it, then. Where shall we go?"
"My dorm is emptied out. Everyone is gone. We'll need the privacy - the one drawback to spanking is that it tends to be loud."
"You're not going to raise a fuss, are you?"
"I can always stuff a sock in my mouth if necessary - I was more thinking of the clap of your hairbrush. You do have a hairbrush with you, don't you?"
I reached for my purse, and gave him a furtive glance at it. "Silly boy. Girls always have a hairbrush on hand."
"That is a very arousing thought."

Sure enough, his dorm was empty. Funny - I knew we were not likely to end up in bed together, but I was as nervous as though we were. I think I was more anxious than he was, and he had more of a right to be. But I was excited, too. Once we were settled in, he asked if he might go barebottom, and I told I wouldn't have it any other way. 

He was quick to drop his pants, and he blushed at the bulge in his underwear. I didn't mind - I could hardly expect him not be aroused.  I tried to sound stern to set the mood as I took a seat and ordered him over my knee, but my voice cracked and he only laughed. I told him he would not be laughing for long as he leaned down over my lap. Royce is fairly tall, but he's thin framed,  so I was surprised at how heavy he was. I felt my thighs flush at the hardening, stretching maleness pressing down on them. I liked that feeling - it gave me a rush. I thought I should start off with a scolding of some sort, like Ms H always does, but I didn't really have anything to scold him about, so I just slowly drew down the back of his underwear to reveal a set of buns that sported a rosy hue. 
"Royce - has someone else spanked you recently?"
"No, Ma'am."
Ma'am. Nobody had ever called me that. I rather liked the sound of it. "You look like you've had a spanking not too long ago."
"I, uh, I kind of did that myself a couple nights ago."
OK.... "Well, if you want me to take up the responsibility of keeping you properly punished, we'll have no more of that. You understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Well, let's make certain that you do." I laid the hairbrush gently on his naked buttocks, grinning as they clenched reflexively. "Ready?"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
So I raised the brush and let him have a good smack dead center across his cheeks. The flesh rippled outward, his back muscles tensed, and his toes curled. He sighed, like a smoker having his first cigarette after a long flight.
"How's that?"
"Sweet as honey."
Well, Tess, I 'sweetened' up his backside for him a lot more. It was such a thrill to watch him tense and squirm and stiffen and moan on my lap, not to mention making his butt turn redder.  I wanted to make him yelp or cry out just once, to let him know I was capable of giving him what he needed, and I know I made it hurt, but he took it all in stride. I suppose I could hardly fault myself. I was new at this, and these cheeks had taken far worse than anything I was putting them through. I think I must have given him half a dozen separate spankings that night, but in the end it was my shoulder, and not his backside that gave out first.
Nevertheless, when I finally admitted defeat, he dropped down in front of me and thanked me profoundly for what I'd given him. I apologized that I'd not been able to break his resolve, but he was nothing but grateful for my efforts.

What an amazing day that was! We talked for quite awhile afterward, and agreed to do a similar session every Thursday afternoon till school starts up. Looks like I'm taking up the role his aunt used to play. I don't mind. He gets what he seems to need, and I get to whack ass (which, frankly, I seem to crave almost as much!). He promised to let me try out a few more implements on him, so the next day we went shopping for belts and slippers and bath brushes. I also needed a new hairbrush. Mine is cracked. 

Lindsay-
Well, that's not exactly a typical start to a relationship, but at least he doesn't sound like he's likely to treat you they way Brad did.

Tess,
Whoa! Don't get the wrong idea. We're not dating, really - I don't have any romantic interest in Royce, and I don't think he has any in me. There are unquestionalby sexual overtones to our friendship, but they're strictly impersonal, if that makes sense. We don't have sex, at least not the vanilla kind. We are helping each other explore  aspects of our natures that we want to better understand. I wouldn't go so far as to call it academic research - we both get a real fun high from our sessions - but I think we want to keep any emotional complications out of it.

Lindsay-
Seriously, sister - can you really keep that up?

Tessie,
Well, once school starts up again, our little spanking trysts will have to end - nowhere to hold them privately. Like Royce said, the one drawback to spankings is that they tend to be fairly loud undertakings. And I don't really want it to get around campus that I'm dishing out spankings to any willing butts. I already have a bit of a reputation from working at the OCS, after all. That's enough notoriety, thank you very much.

Is There Anybody Out There?

Hopefully, there still is..... at least my hit counter has gone up since I last posted, so there are still some recurrent visitors (or maybe just one very persistent one!) still stopping by.  

First, let me say THANK YOU for the many messages of well-wishing I received since my last update. It's amazing how people you've never even met can show such sincere concern for your welfare. 

It's been a long and difficult spring and summer, but the crisis in my family is over for now and all ended up resolving to the positive, at least for the present. Hopefully, the issue will not arise again.

I can't promise my updates will return to normal anytime soon. There are so many other neglected areas in life that need attention. Likely, there will be periods of frequent blogging, interrupted by stretches of inactivity. I'll just have to see how things go.  

I thought I would reboot with an old sketch that I had forgotten all about and never posted...

I am getting the itch to start drawing again, and hope to be posting more original art soon. In the meantime, there will be more RetroFixes, laps, shorty shorts, and long overdue Saturday Smackdowns. And, of course, look for the return of Lindsay, whom I assure you has had a much more exciting summer than I have so far.

More Scribblings

So - a full 30 people checked the 'Give Me More' box from last week, more than on any other post (yay!), not to mention several comments encouraging me to post more works-in-progress and sketches (double yay!). By that I can infer one of two things -
a) the idea is popular, or
b) since the post has been up all week, and in that time the blog has accumulated around 6000 visits......(doing the math, doing the math....)  that means about 199 in every 200 of you would really rather I didn't (including one sourpuss who is apparently decidedly against it).

Hm. Tough decision. I'm going to go with human nature and choose "a", only hearing what I want to hear. The rest is just noise, and I'm putting my hands over my eyes and ears so as to make it all go away...

This last one was a preliminary study for this final illo ; at this early stage, it really wasn't working - I wanted to see the  woman's expression, and  the poses and the silhouette were too static. He actually looks a bit bored or disappointed in her lacklustre efforts - hardly the life-altering walloping I'd intended.

I will post more studies and scribbles down the road, in blatant disregard for the will of the majority. We may live in a democracy, but blogs are dictatorships. Get used to it.

Scribblings

Trying to concoct ideas for blog posts is not always easy. I'd love to post more art, but finished pieces take a lot of time. Meanwhile, in the process of developing ideas, or just idly sketching in front of the TV, I've accumulated a mass of scribbles and sketches in varying degrees of completion. Most of them will never make it to the final stage of a finished piece, but what the heck - I figured I might as well post them anyway. 

So here are a few of ladies waiting expectantly for you to step up and drop down -

If you would like me to post more works-in-progress, please drop a quick comment to that effect - or if you're too shy, just check the 'give me more of this' box.

A Brand Spanking New Book

Here's a little something to chase away those post-holiday blues with some bright pinks and crimsons - a brand spanking new e-book out from Spanko author Lucy Appleby (whom some of you may know by her appellation of  'flopsybunny'). It's filled with juicy little stories for misbehaving men, and what happens to them when their misdemeanors inevitably catch up with them...

hmm - damn nice cover, too....

My thanks to Lucy for letting me have a small part in her latest offering. The Bad Boy Story Book is available for download to the Kindle from Amazon:


http://www.amazon.com/The-Bad-Boy-Story-Book

Be sure to order a copy or Miss Lucy might be very cross with you.

And to whet your appetite, Miss Lucy has graciously agreed to collaborate with yours truly by writing an exclusive short story based on an illo by moi, just for this blog! Enjoy:

Secret Spanko

by

Lucy Appleby

"Do you need the car, Charlie? I have to go shopping - the fridge is
practically empty."

"We can't have an empty fridge," grinned Charlie. "Here - catch." He
pulled the car keys from his pocket and threw them in the direction of
his wife. "Will you be long?" he asked casually.

"A couple of hours. Maybe longer if I call at the hairdresser's."

"Take as long as you like," he said magnanimously. "I'll watch a bit
of football on TV."

"Okay." Ruth pulled on her boots and reached for her coat. "I'll buy
fish for dinner. Can you prepare the vegetables?"

"Sure. See you later."

Charlie waved through the window as Ruth drove off down the road. As
soon as the car was out of sight, he rubbed his hands together
gleefully, closed the sitting room curtains, then made a mad dash for
the computer. Unknown to Ruth, there was something he was even more
interested in than football - spanking! And the internet was full of
it.

Settling himself down in front of the computer screen, Charlie surfed
to his favourite spank sites where he read a few stories about men
getting their backsides thrashed by dominant women, and then he looked
enviously at dozens of pictures of some lucky devils sporting bright
red bottoms.

"I wish that were me," he said to the screen, and not for the first
time, wished he had the courage to talk to Ruth about how he felt. But
he couldn't. How would she react? She would probably be horrified and
divorce him on the spot, and he didn't want that. So he suffered in
silence and snatched his opportunities when they were available - like
now.

Charlie got up and went over to the sideboard. Opening a drawer he
took out Ruth's hairbrush. She rarely used it, saying it was too big,
but it was perfect for what he had in mind. Made of wood, it felt
solid and heavy in his hand. It was paddle-shaped and stained a deep
mahogany. He handled it reverently and returned to the computer.

Standing, he delivered a few tentative whacks to his rump, gentle taps
to begin with, getting progressively harder. Oh yes - this was so
exciting! He unzipped his trousers and kicked them off and whacked his
bottom over his underpants. That was more like it.  But it wouldn't be
a proper hairbrush spanking unless it was on the bare bottom.

Bare bottom. Hell, there was something about that phrase that
turned him on and made him feel like a naughty boy. He stripped off
his sweater followed by his shirt, and then slowly slid his underpants
down over his hips. Free of its confines, his rigid cock sprang to
attention. He spent a few moments admiring it (well, who wouldn't?!)
and then resumed his self spanking.

The brush cracked down on his right buttock, and then on his left. He
felt his haunches jiggle beneath the impact, and grunted as he
delivered further swats, delighting in the satisfying thwack as wood
contacted with naked flesh. This was only the starter and he was
greedy for the main course. Unable to wait any longer, he accessed his
favourite video clip.

A pair of steel grey eyes glared at him. "You disgusting boy! How many
times do I have to tell you to behave yourself?"

The man in the video lay over the woman's lap. He mumbled something
unintelligible and then howled as she brought her hair brush down on
his naked rump.

"Yes! Yes!" encouraged Charlie. "Give it to him good!"  Clad only in
his socks, Charlie positioned himself carefully over the back of his
computer chair, balancing with one hand, and wielding the hairbrush in
the other. His eyes glued to the screen, he whacked his bottom in
synch with the whacking that was being done in the video. And very
soon, he was wailing and howling and yelping just as much as the man
in the video. "Arrrgh!!" he shouted, after giving himself a
particularly hard wallop right at the top of his thighs. It was murder
- that area was so very tender. He did it again. "Aaaiieeee!!"

And throughout, the strict lady with the grey eyes verbally chastised.
Charlie felt as though she was speaking exclusively to him. As his arm
rose and fell and the brush walloped his buttocks, he imagined it was
her whacking his arse. "Oh yes! Yes! More! More!" Oh, he was in a real
frenzy by now, and his cock had swelled to gigantic proportions.
Indeed, his appendage was so huge, it was rubbing against the chair
back in that old familiar rhythm.

"Oooooo," groaned Charlie. "Any minute now, boy. Any minute now. Just
a few more whacks... Ow!  Owow! ..."

He was making so much noise he failed to hear the front door open. It
was the cold gust of air blowing into the room that got his attention.
He turned involuntarily then stared in horror. Ruth stood in the
doorway, an expression of shock and incredulity on her face.  For
tortuously long seconds neither of them spoke. Ruth recovered her
equanimity first and strode forward, her eyes hard, her mouth an
unsmiling slash of ruby lipstick. Reaching out, she snatched the brush
out of Charlie's hand.

Charlie gulped. Charlie wilted - his once majestic organ now shrunk to
the size of a pickled walnut. Charlie opened his mouth to speak but
only managed a pitiful squeak. There was something wrong with his
vocal chords. He was in shock. He wanted to explain it was all a
misunderstanding.

"A mmm...mmm," he mumbled as panic set in."

"Well Charles," said Ruth, coldly. Her use of the more formal name
told Charlie he was in deep doo-doo. "Since you resort to this type of
behaviour the minute my back is turned, I have no option but to
discipline you myself."

Then, to Charlie's horror and amazement, she deposited herself in the
chair and hauled him over her lap.

"Taking my hairbrush for use on your BOTTOM?! Outrageous!" snapped Ruth.

CRACK! The brush found its target. Down it flew, over and over again,
cracking and whacking down on Charlie's wobbling buttocks. He thought
he had endured sufficient pain with his own attempt - which was quite
feeble compared to this. Ruth went at it like a madwoman. Charlie's
eyes bulged. He yelped. He screeched. He howled. He begged her to
stop, but she refused. She carried on and blistered his bottom, making
it as red as the post box down the road. When she eventually stopped,
Charlie leaped to his feet and did a peculiar little dance around the
room. He made a series of blood curdling yells as he pranced about in
his socks, his flaccid todger flapping.

"I haven't finished with you yet," growled Ruth. She went into the
kitchen and returned scowling. "As I thought. You haven't prepared any
vegetables as I asked you to. So you can get on with it now. Wear
this." She handed him her pink frilly apron.

Charlie looked at it aghast, but Ruth was so fierce, he put it on and
waddled to the kitchen with his red rump sticking out and shining like
a beacon. His poor old arse burned and throbbed and burned and
throbbed and ... heck - his pecker was coming back to life. Charlie
willed it to shrivel up again but the damned thing wouldn't. He
reached for the carrot peeler and hoped fervently that Ruth wouldn't
come into the kitchen and see him in this ridiculous apron in a state
of obvious arousal.

Ruth returned to the computer. She checked Charlie's history, as she
always did, noting the sites he visited, the pics he downloaded, and
the video clips he had accessed. She chuckled to herself and then
typed in the address of a website. The page appeared - Mistress
Electra : Pro-Dominatrix. Ruth looked at herself on the page. She was
still attractive and had a good body, accentuated by that tightly
cinched corset, and thigh-high boots with four inch heels. Oh yes,
since Charlie had been made redundant and was unable to obtain work,
it had been up to her to pay the bills. She had been wanting to talk
to Charlie for some time about the situation. He knew she had to
travel about a bit with her job selling cosmetics. But she had given
that up long ago when Mistress Electra had proved increasingly popular
with recalcitrant men the length and breadth of the county.

She went upstairs and put on one of her outfits - the black leather
bustier, black lace panties, black stockings and suspenders. She
selected a pair of red shoes with killer heels, and applied a slash of
red lipstick. Running a hairbrush through her hair, Miss Electra
smiled hungrily. She took a riding crop from her secret stash in the
wardrobe and returned to the kitchen. There was work to be done!

You can check out Miss Lucy's blog here: Lucy Appleby's Spanking Stories

The Spanko Test

So, how much of a Spanko are you? I've concocted a simple little test for you to find out.

Look at the photo below for 2 seconds - and ONLY 2 seconds.

 
OK - now choose which of the following best describes your immediate reaction:

a) OMG, what magnificent breasts. I would love to get my hands on them.

b) OMG, look at those breasts. I would love to get spanked by a woman like that.

c) Nice lap, and that's a nasty little hairbrush she has waiting for me. 

d) Hm - that hairbrush is too small, and that stool is not very practical for spanking. One hard swat or the slightest kicking on my part would topple the both of us onto the floor... what, she was topless?


 First, if you stared at her chest for more than the allotted two seconds or for longer than you did at the hairbrush on her lap, you have already failed. 

If you chose 'a', the only cause for you to consider yourself a Spanko is that you're here taking this survey, but only perhaps because the Disney website was down for maintenance.

If you chose 'b', there's hope for you. But you probably need more lap time - a LOT more. Go get spanked and then take the test again.

If you chose 'c', well, I'm impressed. You are the real deal. Pat yourself on the backside. HARD.

If you chose 'd', you are off the scale of this test. Get help.

Love Our Lurkers Day 2012

 Tiffany has been a VERY naughty young lady. Curious about spanking, yet reluctant to take the plunge herself, she is not above deliberately planting porn mags in her brother's room where she knows they will be discovered, just for the fun of watching him get punished while she scrubs her own rear end with her haribrush.

This is the 7th annual Love Our Lurkers Day in the Spanking Blogoverse, a tradition initiated by the wonderful Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts, wherein we thank that overwhelming percentage of silent visitors to our kinky world, and encourage them to drop a comment or two at their favorite spanking blog. So - THANK YOU, and don't miss out like Tiffany - join in the fun and make some new spanko friends.

Saturday Smackdown