Thank you all for your guesses as to what the mystery implement might be. They were all so creative, and more than one guess was correct!
The guesses were:
- A fireplace bellows (2)
- A fan
- Something used to dig in the garden
- A decoration (spade) for a card game
- One of the hands from a clock
- A pizza board
- A decorative hanging plaque (2)
- A prop from Alice in Wonderland
- A clock pendulum
- Part of a fence post
- A rug beater
- Something to lift things out of the oven
- A boat paddle
Here's the flip side of that black whacker.
It's a pretty heart-shaped wall decoration, in honour of my blog.
Whatever could this evil black thing be used for, other than spanking?
This will be your last chance this year to play guess the implement, so please leave a comment with your best (or worst) guess. I'll reveal the awful truth tomorrow.
Here in Canada, magazines of an adult nature are displayed on the top shelf in stores, well beyond the reach of most children (and many adults). From time to time I will be writing excerpts from books that might very well be stored on the top shelf because of their erotic, spanking-related contents.
I came across a book called 80 Days in Captivity, which is the diary of a young lady. The uncle of this maiden lost a game of cards with Phineas Fogg, after having wagered his niece on the outcome. And so the niece, referred to only as C, was sent to live with Mr. Fogg for 80 days. In her diary, she described her adventures during that time, and luckily for us, many of them involved spanking.
This is from the earliest entry in the diary, and is the first conversation between Phineas and C.
"You are a very bad girl," Mr. Fogg stated.
"Yes," I replied. "I am."
"It has occurred to met that you may require a spanking," he said.
"This may be so."
"Did Henry [her uncle] bend you over his knee?"
"In more ways than one, sir."
"Then I shall lay you across my lap, right here," said Mr. Fogg, "and make your tender arse a tad red."
I understood what I had to do. I presented my bottom to him, lying across his legs. He slapped each cheek gently. "Bad bad girl," he said with absolute delight.
I told him: "You can hit me harder if you like."
"How hard, my dear?"
"As hard as Mr. Fogg wishes."
"It is not my wish to cause you pain."
"Perhaps the desire for pain is my wish."
"Oh, indeed, you are a bad girl!"
"Indeed."
He spanked me harder.
"Do you like that, young strumpet?" he asked.
"Very much so, Mr. Fogg, "I returned.
"Shall I hit you harder?"
"If it pleases you, it pleases me."
A later chapter of the diary, titled 'In which my master, Mr. Phineas Fogg, spanks my tender little arse again for being such a strumpet', Fogg delivers some more discipline:
He then did what I expected, what I hoped for in my heart but would never admit with the words that come out of my ...mouth. Mr. Fogg laid me across his lap and gave each of my cheeks a good spanking, stopping now and then...
"it excites me," said this gentleman who won me in a card game...
Just as I was about to reach up and kiss the bearded man, he smacked my bottom good (as if he knew what I was thinking) and told me what a bad girl I was.
This I knew, this I agreed. To this I said, "Yes, Mr. Fogg."
And he hit my bottom again, but good, and I shuddered with delight at his burning and sturdy touch.
Fogg wasn't the only one who enjoyed our favourite sport. In the chapter called 'In which my Master's manservant spanks me good' she teases the servant Passepartout, until he is forced to retaliate.
"You should be punished," said he, "you should be spanked, mademoiselle."
"I agree."
"I shall bend you over my knee."
"Do it, if you must."
And he did.
"I shall spank you," he said.
"I shall deserve every whack," said I.
"I will show no mercy."
"I would not expect it otherwise."
...
WHACK.
Well, he spanked me good. he left my buttocks quite black and blue.
"Do you want more?" he kept asking.
I was in tears as I said, "Give me what you have. Is your hand not tired by now?"
"My hand throbs," he said, "but I will give you more, if that's what you require."
"I require a lot, sir," I told him.
"Then you shall receive..."
And did.
Tradition has it that at midnight on Christmas Eve, animals are given the gift of speech. This LOLcat will have a few choice words to say, I'm sure.
Crookshanks, Fang, Fluffy, Ron and I all wish you all a very Merry Christmas.
And if you're in the mood for a perfectly charming Christmas story, visit A Voice in the Corner.
She's a wise woman.
Many Canadian newspapers carry a certain syndicated advice column. This agony aunt won the position in a competition that was held after the previous columnist retired, and let me tell you, she's no Ann Landers. I often disagree with her advice, but at least she's more creative than her predecessor, whose stock answer for any situation was "see a therapist".
A recent column made me think. Here it is:
Dear Robin: Aren't there any sexually normal people left? You know, the kind who can enjoy sex year after year without the use of artificial stimulation? I know of at least one and that's me and I am just curious. -- NOT A DEVIANT
Dear Non-deviant diva: You have posed an interesting question, one I would like my readers to weigh in on.
I think people are obsessed with getting the kind of sex that is being advertised, and sometimes may no longer be satisfied with what is offered up to them. I liken it to being fed prime rib for a week straight, and then having a minute steak placed in front of you. When you consider the images thrown at us every day, is it any wonder people may start to think of themselves in that way?
Well readers, what do you think? Has sex gone off the rails? Is it a case of too much in your face, or sliding morals causing an acceptance of things once taboo?
Well, readers, what do you think about Robin's reply? (And why did she change the pen name of the person who asked the question?) What about the reader's question? Do you consider spanking to be artificial stimulation? Does being "sexually normal" include those of us who enjoy spanking?
There hasn't been much kink on Coronation Street lately, but here's what I've seen in episodes aired in Canada over the past few months.
After a teenage couple have an argument and split up, their single parents arrange to accidentally meet at a bowling alley with their respective children, in the hopes of helping them resolve their differences. After their attempt fails and the youngsters go their separate ways, the parents are left together.
Joe (a builder): We're entitled to a bit of fun, aren't we?...Let's go put some embarrassing shoes on."
Gail: Why do I feel like a naughty schoolgirl?"
Joe: Watch what you say. I do a mean line in court about punishment."
Weeks later, romance is in full bloom for both the teens and their parents. Gail and Joe are leaving for a romantic weekend. She comes down the stairs, and the kids tease her about her unfashionable coat. Joe takes her in his arms, swats her bottom and says she's a very sexy woman.
Joe's daughter: "Let's lay the ground rules. No bum-slapping. It makes me sick."
Disgruntled Norris, upon returning from a very crowded Christmas church service, complained that he couldn't find anywhere to sit, and had to stand pressed up against the font. The result was that he had "the life of St. Chad embossed on my backside. You could do a rubbing."
At a girls-only party the evening before a wedding, the future mother-in-law of the bride-to-be gave the handsome, sexy bartender a loud swat on the bottom. He didn't mind. It was all part of the service.
I have written about spanking on the Street before, here and here.
The Authentic James T. Kirk Captain's Chair
This is the meticulously detailed, full-scale replica of James Tiberius Kirk's captain's chair from the original Star Trek television series.
A press of the former yellow alert button (located at the front of the right armrest) produces one of nine original sound samples from the series, including the entirety of the famous prologue: "Space... the final frontier..." spoken by William Shatner. Other samples include "Kirk to Engineering... Mr. Scott, report!" "Position report Spock?" and more.
Seven sound effects are produced by activating the former red alert button, including the classic intercom hail, phaser and photon torpedo sounds--even the ambient background bridge noises. The chair includes various toggle switches, knobs, and buttons from the series that invoked the jettison of pods and activated the main viewscreen. All sounds are produced from a single speaker built into the left armrest.
The chair's platform is made of wood surrounding a steel frame. The back and seat are made from leather, braced on either side by two oak arm rests; the chair swivels 360°.
Now wouldn't that make spanking even more fun for all you spanko Trekkies? Yes, you really can buy this here.
I was in another part of our office complex the other day, helping someone with a problem. When my co-worker went to get something off the printer, I wandered out of her cubicle and looked around, because I didn't visit this area often. I peeked into the office opposite and gasped. Something familiar was hanging on the wall over the desk; could it really be what I thought it was?
I looked away and tried to act casual, because it was the office of one of the managers whom I didn't know very well. Then I looked again and saw that the office was empty, so I moved closer and stared in amazement.
Was it? Could it be?
Yes, I'm sure there was a flogger hanging over the desk. A coloured flogger. With ribbons attached.
Well, maybe it was a fly whisk. But it sure looked like a flogger to me.
Which box should I tick?
I'm always nice.
But sometimes I feel so naughty.
What's a girl to do?
Last week I had an appointment and was running late. In my rush to get ready, I hadn't fastened my BlackBerry securely to my belt, and just before I left the office, it slipped off and fell into, um, some water. Never mind the details, okay? It was a small body of water. Use your imagination. And yes, I was tempted to walk away and leave it there.
Anyway, I fished it out, pulled the BlackBerry out of its holster and wiped it dry. It was blank. I removed the battery, dried it off, and put it back in. The device made a sizzling sound, flashed briefly, and died.
I was seriously worried; I knew that I would not be allowed to have a replacement. I depended on that little gadget to stay in touch with my virtual world, and now my carelessness had cost me my umbilical cord.
Then there was that appointment I still had to go to. I hopped into the car and hurried to the clinic. After checking in with the receptionist I was ushered into a small examining room, and soon a friendly technician came in and asked me how I was.
"Fine," I gave my standard response. Then I reconsidered. "No, I'm not fine at all. I just drowned my BlackBerry and I'm very upset." This was a medical office; no point in concealing the truth.
"Oh," said the technician, "that happened to my son's cellphone. I called the service provider's hotline and they told me to put it in a bag of raw rice. The next day, it was right as rain."
I could have kissed her! During the next half hour I was oblivious to whatever discomfort I might otherwise have experienced; all I could think about was the location of the nearest grocery store. As soon as I was dismissed, I drove there and bought a bag of regular, raw rice and some ziptop bags. Right there in the car, I poured some rice into a bag, added the BlackBerry, then the battery, and topped it up with more rice. Then I headed back to work. From time to time during the day I turned the bag and massaged it, kept my fingers crossed, and hoped for a miracle.
The next morning, I pulled my device out of its plastic sleeping bag, spanked the rice grains out of it, inserted the battery and held my breath. Then I heard the welcome beep and saw the message "initializing device". There was the menu! Those little icons had never looked so beautiful!
My BlackBerry still rattles when I shake it, but it works like a charm, and I never had to confess my carelessness. Except to you, but I know you won't tell and get me in trouble.
Now you can have your spanking intentions delivered to some lucky recipient, and decorate the holiday table at the same time.
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