Come Spank with Me Again

A few months ago I told you here about a television program that I enjoyed, called Come Dine with Me Canada. In my previous post I conjectured how funny it would be if someone discovered spanking implements in the home of one of the competitors. Well, a recent episode featured an episode absolutely chock full of spanking. Yes, the real thing!

To recap how the show works, five strangers each host a dinner party over five consecutive days, and at the end of each evening the guests rate the party on a scale of one to ten. At the end of the week, the high-scoring competitor wins $1,000.

In each home, a room is set aside to be used for private feedback from the guests. I'll call it "the confessional" - a term used on a similar show called Dinner Party Wars. Individual guests go there to give their honest opinion about the food, the drinks (or lack thereof) and the other guests. During the evening, the camera alternates between the actual dinner party in progress, with frequent comments by the narrator, and the confessional, where guests say what they really think. So you might see a guest take a bite of dessert, say "It's delicious, I love it!" at the table, immediately followed by the same guest saying "I hated it" in the confessional.

 Now on to the spanking episode in Season Three, Episode Two. The host for the evening is Danielle, who is young, friendly, and very casual in her approach to the challenge. She forgets to supply napkins at the table and, when a guest complains, she produces folded paper towels. The guests are Colleen, a fifty-something woman with an irritating laugh; Sandra, a homemaker who devotes most of her time to her makeup and wardrobe; Fraser, a congenial financier, and Tim, a math nerd and food snob.

Left to right: Colleen, Sandra, Danielle with the spoons, Tim and Fraser.

While Danielle prepares the appetizer, the four guests explore her home. In her bedroom they discover a messy closet, piles of shoes, and a mysterious pair of spoons.

COLLEEN: "I don't know what he heck these are."
FRASER: "Maybe these are giant chopsticks."
SANDRA: "I think they're for spanking." Sandra procedes to spank Colleen with one spoon, while Colleen spanks herself with the other.
SANDRA: "I think she likes that."
NARRATOR: "Whatever gave you that idea?"
COLLEEN: "Spank me again! Spank me more!" Sandra glady obliges.
TIM (in the confessional): "It's clearly something she's into."

At the table, as they sample Danielle's scallops appetizer, Fraser mentioned the footwear they found, and Danielle explains that she was a stepdancer for several years. Sandra now feels the time is right to bring up the subject of their other discovery.
SANDRA: "What were those sticks? We found some sticks. I thought they were for spanking so I spanked Colleen."

It turns out that Danielle isn't kinky after all. The sticks are wooden spoons used as traditional musical instruments.

Later, Danielle does a little impromptu dancing at the table, and encourages her guest to join in and "bust a move". Sandra and Tim comply, then Fraser stands up and starts to move.
COLLEEN: "You want me to spank you?"
NARRATOR: "We all do."

Colleen does so, and as the two of them gyrate together, she slaps Fraser's butt with one hand while she spanks her own with the other, amid whoops of joy.
SANDRA (in the confessional): "Colleen, she likes to do the spanking."
NARRATOR: "We noticed."
There are more closeups of Colleen's butt as she spanks herself.

I would have given this evening a ten for the entertainment alone, but Danielle's guests weren't so kind, and her score was mediocre.

From the Top Shelf - The Amorous Professor

Today I have a real treat in store for you.  I recently discovered an anonymously written book called The Amorous Professor, and it's quite a juicy tale. The narrator is Frank Meredith, a bachelor in his forties who is a teacher by profession. In this excerpt he tells us how, at the age of 24, he lost his virginity to a lady who also ignited his passion for spanking.

Her name was Meg Alesworth; she was nineteen, with russet coloured hair that always tumbled in a thick mop, an impish face, and skin that was the colour of clotted cream. Her eyes were almost gentian, as I recall, enormous, widely spaced and most expressive. Her mouth was a passionate rosebud, and her tongue was a miracle unto itself.

Meg was a junior at St. Margaret's College about a mile away from my own pedagogical locale, and I recall that I met her when she bumped into me, running and not looking where she was going, knocking all my books to the ground. In sweet confusion, she blushingly assisted me in retrieving them, and I, always the opportunist, offered her an invitation to dinner which she gaily and laughingly accepted.

It being a warm early June evening, we strolled hand in hand along one of the winding little rivers near the college , and found at last a secluded grove where crickets chirped and night birds called to one another. Meg turned to me, her eyes questioning, her lips parted and soft, and I did what any red blooded man would have done - I kissed her passionately...

One thing led to another, and when it was over,

...she said with a naughty grin, "I thought you were such an old sobersides that you were never going to make love to me, and you needed encouragement. Now I hope you have the idea!"

This was a challenge to my male pride that I could not let go readily. My face reddened as I exclaimed, "You think very highly of yourself, my girl, and it's time for your comeuppance!"

With that, much to her surprise, I seized her by the elbow, pulled her across my lap, tugged up her skirt and nylon petticoat, exposing a most voluptuous oval-cheeked bottom, snug in a pair of beige-hued knickers. She looked back to see what I was doing , and there was no hint of anger or rebellion in her gaze, only an intense curiosity. This, together with her enigmatic little smile.

Putting my left arm around her waist, I began to smack her bottom. I admit that, at the time, this seemed awfully audacious, and inwardly my heart was pounding, because I was afraid she might denounce me to the school authorities and blacken my entire career.

You can imagine my surprise when soon I stopped after inflicting some thirty open palmed smacks upon her tossing and wriggling bottom, to have her turn her face to me and murmur huskily, "Oh, that's so nice, Frank, really so nice! Please take my knickers down and give me what I really need. It makes me ever so hot!"

Nothing loath, I found the drawstrings of her knickers and worked them down. The bright pink oval cheeks of her naked bottom leaped up at me, and at that moment I believe my destiny was determined.

I had fallen victim to the fatal lure of corporal punishment. And as you shall see in further chapters, I managed to coalesce my most ardent lust fantasies with the practical reality which corporal punishment always provides for the imaginative individual.

Once having taken her knickers down and seen the intimacy of her bare bottom, I now began to use my fingers as thongs, lifting my hand and bringing it down with a flick of my wrist so that the tips of my fingers bit against her flaming bottom much as would the tips of a martinet.

She moaned and gasped, squirmed and wriggled over my lap, until again I felt my cock stiffen with pent up virility. At last she whimpered, "Oh that's enough! Give it to me now, darling, give it to me hard, please do!"

And thus I spent in delirium for the second time that night, but this time it was even more thrilling for us both. My liaison with Meg Alesworth lasted only three months, then she told me flippantly one day that she was engaged to a sober young solicitor who was being taken into his father's firm the moment he passed his bar examinations.

I have met her since then and she is buxom, serene, with none of her youthful buoyancy and devil-may-care manner. She is the sedate mother of four boys.

But for me, Meg Alesworth was the kindling spark which lit up my psyche and made me relish with savour those future exquisite disciplinary encounters with my young female pupils which were destined to fulfil all my desires.

You will have to wait until next week to read about one such encounter. Believe me, it will be worth the wait.

You Completed the Caption

This rather sexist photo generated lots of interesting captions.


Simon: Her constant use of the phrase "you dirty rat" had finally driven Jimmy to take steps.

It appeared that her new hair extensions were really as strong as the advertising had implied.

Bob: Come on honey let me help you to bed. 

Prefectdt: She says, "Next time you stroke my hair, make sure you don't have bubble gum in your hand first!"

Ricky: She: No, no, no! Not now!
He: Oh, yes, Yes, YES!
She: Well OK, if you insist.

Minelle: Not the hair! Not the hair! We can play but just don't mess my hair!

Sunnygirl: Come on Harrigan, we're just 45 steps from the bedroom.

Bonnie: "When I said I wanted an old fashioned relationship, I didn't mean prehistoric!"

Michael: "Honey, I know straight hair is all the rage these days, but is this the best way to uncurl your hair."

NOTE - As Simon said in the first comment this is Hollywood legend Jimmy Cagney. The hapless girl he is dragging is Mae Clarke and the film is "Lady Killer" from 1933 which is mostly a comedy despite its title. Mae Clarke is the same actress that Cagney smashed in the face with a grapefruit in the classic 1931 film "The Public Enemy."

Thanks for that information, Michael.

Ronnie: "If you wanted me to come up stairs for my spanking you could have just asked."

Bobbie Jo: He: You are my woman and you will do what I say.
She: I may be your woman, but you are MY man so let go of my freakin' hair or it will be the hairbrush for you!

NOTE - Jimmy Cagney never said, "You dirty rat." I heard him say this on a talk show once. Also, in the scene with the grapefruit, it was his idea and was not in the original script. It was on the spur of the moment, too. They only did one take.

We have several old movie fans here today!

Red: But honey, an on the spot spanking should be done now, exactly where we are!

Kingspan: Her first day as a professional dominatrix was off to a really bad start.

Young Lady: Norma had known there'd be repercussions for wearing pants in her wedding, but she'd hoped he'd be so excited about sex he would let it slide. She was wrong.

Jessie's outfit was so slick the slide across the floor was almost fun, but those stairs were gonna create quite a wallop.

Sir Wendel Jones: You can scream and shout, say all that you want, drag me to the bedroom and spank me till my bottom glows in the dark but I still look FABULOUS in these shoes.

Vfrat25000: "Harry...Harry...Put on your glasses for crying out loud. That's not your wife, its the hotel housekeeper. Your wife is in the bedroom."

The captions submitted so far are fantastic. I only have time for one today.

You are always so generous with your captions; I don't know how you do it. One is perfectly acceptable.

Six of the best: "Come into the parlour said the spider to the fly". This old James Cagney, Mae Clarke movie, begs for a good spanking giving to the naughty lady. And I wish that was the case.

Hermione: Even though the costume party was weeks away, George insisted that he and Wendy rehearse their entrance as the Flintstones.


Thank you, everyone, for the hilarious responses. I learned a lot about Jimmy Cagney too! See you all next week.

Complete the Caption

Here's a couple that seems to be having some sort of disagreement. But then again, maybe they're actually having a good time. What do you think?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your interpretations in the next post.

If you haven't joined in before, give this one a try. There are so many possible interpretations, just your imagination soar.

Friday FAIL

More on the subject of panties: exposing them in public, forgetting to put them on,  and the dictates of fashion.

No exposed bottoms allowed in this store.

The same message expressed a bit more bluntly.




Warning: Please put down your beverage, and if you are eating, swallow before reading the next item.

See what happens when you don't?

Granny panties: never a hit with husbands.

Double your pleasure, double your fun at the rink next door to WalMart.

Google+ Comments on Blogger

It's time for another snippet of technical information for those of you who use Blogger, but this will also be of interest to users of WordPress as well as those of you who don't have a blog.

Google+ has been around for a while now. It's a way to keep your friends and relatives up to date on your activitites, and to share specific information, like photos, blog posts and messages, with specific groups of people who are in your "circles". You can share some things with the people in your work circle, for example, and other things with people in your spanko circle, and the two groups never need know about each other.

Last week Blogger implemented a new system of commenting available to Google+ users. Instead of the usual Blogger comments, you can choose to activate Google+ comments. Perhaps some of you have already done so. While the new comment system has some advantages, there are significant disadvantages as well.

• People without Google+ accounts won't be able to leave comments, or even read them, since comments are dependent on being in a circle. That will prevent a large number of readers from commenting on your blog.

• Previously made comments won't be visible on the blog, although the comments still exist.

• The comment count will show "0 comments" even with comments actually present, and after clicking on "0 comments".

• If you are blocking third party cookies in your browser, you won't be able to see the comments, even if you do have Google+. 

• You won't be notified of new comments by mail, only from inside Google+ if the comment is shared with you.

• You cannot moderate comments from your dashboard. Moderation is done under each post, one post at a time.

• There may be some comments that you may not be able to moderate - for example, if you have blocked a person - but will show up to others in the blocked person's circle.

• The Comments section in your dashboard will disappear, because none of these settings are relevant to Google+ Comments. "Comment Location" will be defaulted to "Embedded".

• If you change your blog address - either a blogspot address change or to a custom domain - existing Google+ comments may not remain visible.

Doesn't that sound like fun? Fortunately, there is a way to go back to the old style of comments. Just go to the dashboard Google+ menu selection, and uncheck the option "Use Google+ Comments on this blog".

And regular programming will resume.

Wednesday WIN

SPIN Galactic is a chain of ping pong social clubs with locations in New York, Milwaukee, Dubai, Toronto and Los Angeles. It's a place to meet your friends, eat, drink, play a game or two of ping pong, and - dare I say it - enjoy a little spanking.  Take a look at the merchandise available from their online shop.

This item is described in no uncertain terms. "With this clear definition of Spanking, you'll instantly resolve any confusion anyone has about the word, before they can even reach for their phones to google it.

The definition reads: "A number of slaps on the buttocks delivered in rapid succession, as for punishment in a game of ping-pong".

Who doesn't?

This beautiful leaf-patterned paddle case would be very useful for spanking implements.



Then there are the paddles, with such features as a concave Italian composite handle for increased comfort (everyone knows how your spanker's comfort is paramount when you are getting your paddling) and an extra-light blade (for extra stinginess).

The black sandpaper paddle is "Clean, simple, cool" and no doubt very effective, although I suspect it's actually quite hot!

Limited Edition SPiN Galactic Paddle "plays just like the standard paddle, but helps you set yourself
apart."


A big thank you to regular reader Tommy for telling me about this very enjoyable club.

What is Ron really like?

 I saw this meme over on Daisy's blog and thought I would use it to tell you more about my life partner and fellow spanko, Ron.


1. He's sitting in front of the TV, what is on the screen?
American football or Dateline.

2. You're out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad?
Italian.

3. The most striking thing about his physical appearance?
Big smile.

4. You go out to eat and have a drink; what does he order?
Coor's Light.

5. Where did he go to high school?
The same city we live in now.

6. What size shoe does he wear?
Size 8.

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be?
Books.

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich?
A toasted BLT or a turkey club.

9. What would he eat every day if he could?
Potato chips.

10. What is his favorite cereal?
He says he hates it but when I make old-fashioned steel-cut oatmeal, he always finishes his bowl.

11. What would he never wear?
Shorts.

12. What is his favorite sports team?
The one with the purple uniform. (Can you tell I'm not a football fan?)

13.Who did he vote for?
One party in the Provincial election and the opposite party in the Federal one.

14. Who is his best friend?
His former boss.

15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn't do?
Express an opinion; he calls it arguing.

16. What is his heritage?
Canadian, although his ancestors were English, Irish and Scottish.

17. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what kind?
He hates cake, so I have a blow-up one for birthdays.

18. Did he play sports in high school?
Only in gym class when he had to.

19. What could he spend hours doing?
Visiting weather websites on his iPad.

20. What is one unique talent he has?
A wicked sense of humour.


Please feel free to use this meme on your blog to share some little-known facts about your partner.

From the Top Shelf - Trial and Error

This extract is from Louise Malatesta's book Queen of the Grove, an excellent collection of spanking stories. It involves three lovely schoolgirls, but it's not what you think! The girls have been bullied by a boy and have decided to put a stop to it once and for all by giving him a well-deserved thrashing. The trouble is, they have never experienced corporal punishment themselves and have no idea how to go about it. They don't want to hurt him too much, but how much is enough?

None of them had ever seen a birch rod, of course, but they had Coral's brother's acquaintance's description to go by. Four feet long, six or seven switches. They cut the necessary twigs and bound them together at the base. Coral swished the rod experimentally, using a great deal of her strength of arm. It made a noise like wind in the trees and Coral immediately complained that it would never do.

"It moves too slowly through the air," she said, "and it spreads too much. It will never do the job!" So the girls shortened it, removed all the leaves and most of the side twigs, then Coral pronounced it "better, but still too spready." So they made the handle at least two feet in length, so that the spray at the business end of the birch was only about 4 inches across. "That's too narrow!" said Belinda.

"No," said Coral "I don't think so." She slashed the rod through the air. It made an angry whining hiss and all three of them blinked and flinched.

"See how it opens out in flight?" said Coral, followed by another ominous swish. "I think that's about right!"

But there was only one way to be sure, and they all knew it.

"Shall we draw lots?" asked Coral. "Won't be fair otherwise."

"I'll do it," volunteered Felicity bravely. "I haven't made much of the running so far. This can be my contribution. Just one though, as hard as you plan to use it on Teddy, otherwise it will be a waste of time...but be quick!"

Without further ado, she hoisted her skirt to her waist, slipped her knickers down, and bent over to touch her toes.

"Do hurry," came a voice from below. "I feel such a clot standing like this!"

"Oh, Felicity!" said Belinda admiringly.

"Well done, Fliss!" said Coral, taking careful aim. There was a swish and a thwack, followed by a terrifying howl as Felicity shot bolt upright, clutching her rear with both hands, her face red, her eyes huge with shock and surprise, and already swimming with tears.

"Oh!" she gasped, dancing from foot to foot and rubbing her bottom frantically. 'Oh, that really HURT! Oh oh!!"

"Poor old Fliss!" said Coral sympathetically though her pulse was racing. "Jolly brave I call it! Let's have a look."

Coral and Belinda bent and peered closely as Felicity, still gasping, gamely pulled up her skirt at the back to allow them to observe, at close range, the results of Coral's endeavours.

"Golly!" said Belinda, her hand to her mouth.

"I call that pretty good!" remarked Coral.

The single cut had raised a huge flush across Felicity's roundest part, with three or four deep red lines where heavier twigs had got home. There were also ominous blue and yellow speckles on her right flank.

"That's where the ends curled round" said Coral, touching the blue marks lightly with her forefinger. "We'll have to try and compensate. Aim short and it should be all right."

Felicity gingerly adjusted her clothing. "I can tell you it hurts like anything," she said "though it's wearing off a bit now."

"What does it feel like?" asked Coral, fascinated.

"Like...like I've sat in a clump of nettles. Stinging and tingling. A sort of sharp glow. There's one place it really hurts," added Felicity, exploring her nether regions gingerly. "Yes...ouch! Here. One or two of those twigs must be thicker than the others, or whippier or something."

"Put some cold cream on it when you get home" suggested Belinda.

"Right. We have our prototype," said Coral, turning the birch in her hand and examining it. "Now we need to get busy and make one more like it."

"More? Why?"

For answer, Coral pointed to the tips of the birch. "It's already begun to fray. If we give him, say, half a dozen like that, we may well find ourselves with only a stump left to whack him with, in case he needs more. So we need a spare."

"How many are we going to give him, Coral?" asked Belinda, awed by the spectacular birch weals on Felicity's bottom and somewhat daunted by her friend's rather chilling ability to foresee such a contingency. "So what's his sentence? It won't need to be many if they're all like that!"

"As many as he needs," said Coral, coldly. "If he marks up like Fliss then I should think a dozen ought to be ample. But we'll have to play it by ear."

The book was once available on Amazon, but sadly is currently out of stock. It must be popular.

You Completed the Caption

Housework does present some challenges, but you were all up for it. Here's what you wrote:


DelFonte: Why she insists on this damn ironing board is beyond me, I much prefer the whipping bench.

Simon: The new housekeeper wasn't much good but there were compensations.

Michael: "Dumb Dora was so dumb she used an ironing board as a vibrator. Hey, maybe dumb Dora wasn't so dumb after all."

"When exotic dancer Mystic's pole was damaged in the Seven Dwarves incident she cleverly substituted an ironing board."

Sunnygirl: She said she could iron and boy was she right.

Bonnie: "When he said he wanted to paddle me with a board, this was the first thing that came to mind."

Six of the best: The naughty lady says, "My boss, 'Six of the Best', has promised me a good spanking on my bare bottom, if I fail to satisfy him in doing my duties."

Ronnie: Peter loved his sexy new wife but she had no idea how to put up an ironing board.

Vfrat25000: Assembles in 10 minutes… My ass!

Granny Francine’s House Keeping Service was the best kept secret in town

Helen, I forgot to tell you…The New Pastor Search Committee from our church is in the living room. They have been waiting for about 20 minutes!

Jim, you are a confirmed bachelor. Why are your clothes so neatly pressed and organized? You must pay a fortune for laundry services.
I do!

Three hundred dollars an hour for ironing service, are you nuts?
This is what we provide!
Let me get my credit card. I’ll take a week’s worth!

Kingspan: Such a well presented bottom, but kind of hard to swat from that angle. Isn't it "iron"ic?

Minelle: "Oh my... I just need to 'right' this ironing board I knocked over. Darn, I guess I should get dressed first...um maybe."

Ricky: Oh, hi there! Don't mind me, I'm just hanging out.

Sir Wendel Jones: RONCO Presents: The Pocket Ironing Board Spanking System. Order Now and RONCO will throw in the Pocket Paddle absolutely FREE!

Real Customer Testimonial: “I remember driving in to work one morning and saying to myself ‘Self, I wish there was any easy way to spank the maid while she irons’. Then I saw the ad for the RONCO ‘Pocket Ironing Board Spanking System’. Now I can satisfy all my kinks and still get to work on time with a freshly pressed shirt. Thanks RONCO”

Rednakedy: They say the best thing a woman can do for a man is get the wrinkles out of his cock...
Oh, huh, what? Huh? Ohhhhhhhhhh---THAT'S what they meant. My bad. Come 'ere and I'll take care of that for you.....

Welcome, Rednakedy!

A. Lurker: "Hey big boy, wanna play a "board" game?

Hermione: Millicent had just finished ironing her hair when the ironing board decided to retaliate.


Thanks for having fun with me this weekend. See you all next time!

Complete the Caption

Those clothes need ironing, but there seems to be some delay. Is someone in trouble?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your helpful hints in the next post.

If you haven't participated before, why not give this one a try?

Friday FAIL

A selection of weird and wonderful bottom shots from around the interwebs.

 Spongebob goes to school?

 Football rules call for using your head instead of your hands, right?

 Butt implants gone too far.

 Get that thing away from me!

Duct tape is mighty handy for repairing those unsightly cracks.

 It's still feels like winter up here where I live.

Spider on the Wall

Last weekend Ron had an especially hard session in store for me. On the bed he had laid out his choice of implements for the afternoon: a heavy black leather strap, a delrin carpet beater (so much harder to take than the rattan one) and a short rubber paddle, textured and coloured to resemble old brick. Since I was always allowed to choose one additional implement from the toy box, I selected a thin wooden paddle made for a beach game. It had a large surface area and made a loud noise but was relatively harmless.

Ron started off with the leather strap, and for some reason my bottom felt more sensitive than usual.  It might have been because of the scented lotion I had recently rubbed on, or maybe I was just tired.

"Go easy with that thing," I cautioned.

"You like it rough," Ron countered, but he did slow down, and the whacks were a tad less forceful. He then switched to the ouchy carpet beater, which I tolerated less well, and then on to the evil rubber brick, which I absolutely hated. It was something of a relief when the beach paddle came into play. Noisy, a little stingy, but otherwise entirely tolerable.

After the warmup (such as it was!) Ron cycled through the implements again, giving me approximately twice as many swats with each one as he had in the first round. I wasn't anxious for more from the brick, and squeaked as each swat landed. I think he was using the carpet beater when he suddenly stopped and stepped back. What was he up to now?

"I see a spider," Ron announced. I felt the implement land on the bed beside me, and assumed he was joking, but then I saw him walk over to the corner of the room.

"What? I just did the dusting. I didn't see any spiders," I protested. Ron did, on the wall above his bedside table. He quickly captured it in a tissue and went into the bathroom to dispose of it. And that's when I had my chance. I seized the evil brick paddle and slipped it under the bed, then casually bent over the bed again and waited.
 
When Ron returned, it didn't take him long to notice that something was missing.


"Where's the brick?"

"Oh, is it gone?" I asked innocently. "I didn't notice." Ron didn't believe me. He looked around the room then announced, "I'm not playing anymore."

Oops! I glanced around too, pretending to be searching for the errant implement. Ron soon discovered it in its hiding place and gave me a long paddling of hard, swift strokes with the brick as punishment for my naughty deed. By then I was well warmed up and delighted in the forceful treatment.

Sometimes spiders are quite useful to have around.

Wednesday WIN

Italian food manufacturer Gioni has come up with an innovative way to advertise their newly-designed sauce bottles. The sauce flows out easily so there is no need to smack the bottom of the bottle as ketchup lovers usually do. The naughty ads illustrate role reversal by having ketchup, brown sauce, and salad cream bottles spanking humans, in a little sweet revenge.

The tagline says “Don’t spank our bottles again.”

Tips for Writing Spanking Fiction

One of our newer bloggers, Aaron Christopher, is an excellent writer who has put together an amazing list of do's and don'ts for aspiring writers of spanking fiction. I have to admit that fiction is not my forte, and on the few occasions I have attempted it, I struggled to write something meaningful and interesting. But I think that with these helpful guidelines, I might find the process a little easier next time I try. You might find them useful too, so I want to share a few of them with you.


His first rule seems pretty obvious:

Do not repetitiously use onomatopoeia. Nothing is more boring than reading "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" "OW! OW! OW!"

How often have you read stories that have violated that rule? All too often, I suspect.


Another rule that I found very helpful was this:

Always have a good reason for a spanking to happen. Even if your spanking is the fun, happy and sexy kind, make sure the one getting spanked earns it. Getting in trouble is a vital part of spanking play.

Sometimes I find it hard to invent a reason for the fictional spanking, but then that's where a writer's creativity comes in.


Here's a guideline that I don't entirely agree with:

If you are writing a story with multiple chapters, don't have a spanking every chapter. Droughts between spankings allow a reader to take a breath, invest in the characters and whet their appetite for the next spanking to occur.

When I'm reading a spanking story, I don't want to have to get through pages or even chapters of non-spanking prose. If I'm reading a book for titillation, I like to find plenty of spanking, with lots of variety. But that's just my opinion.


Read Aaron's entire list here, and leave him a comment while you're there. You might also enjoy reading some of this talented writer's other posts, so be sure to check out his archive.

From the Top Shelf - The Woodshed

I haven't posted a poem lately, so here's one that I hope will start your week off on a high note.

The Woodshed

by P N Dedeaux

As into the woodshed Elizabeth went
to atone for a moment's domestic dissent.
She espied an object designed to cause pain
An object which looked very much like a cane.

It could do her dire harm, our Elizabeth knew
for she'd suffered before its effect...black and blue
having bent her broad bum to its beastly embrace
and suffered its sting and the shameful disgrace.

Altogether her future seemed lacking in cheer
as her father, observing her symptoms of fear,
stated her sentence and set her ears buzzin'
"For answering back, Miss, the best of a dozen!"

"A dozen? Papa, oh please not so strict!
For cheeking Mama I've ne'er been so licked.
Oh Mercy, Dear Papa, 'twill cut me in two
Oh please let me off, if only a few!"

But let off she's not, despite wringing white hands
and a body that's trembling right there where she stands
her bosom so tense it might well be in milk
and lily white thighs, their surface like silk.

And now she is focused on Papa's thick stick
which now larrups the air so's to make her feel sick.
All her pleas were in vain, just elicit a frown
a click of the latch and a gruff "Take 'em down!"

Oh God she must strip, she must "take 'em down", quite
with fumbling hands bare her buttocks so white.
Though not long to remain so is our guess and fear
To judge from the way father eyes up her rear.

He eyes its appearance appraisingly now
as Betty disrobes with modesty's bow
and while father rolls up the sleeves of his shirt
her task is to doff, rather slowly, her skirt.

Now bare from the waist, heavy bottomed and broad
Betty blushes and stares, rather glumly, toward
the trestle o'er which she must bend her poor base
soon to be redder than even her face.

Her sense of distress and impending dire pain
increase at the sight of that frightening cane.
"Now get over tight and stick it right up
I'll teach you to lip, you insolent pup!"

Now that dreaded sawhorse has legs widely spread
and the end where she bends slopes down to its head.
So poor Betty is really extremely distended
an impartial viewer might call it well bended.

Upended, distended and thoroughly bended,
poor Betty, we fear, can not be defended
from that terrible flexible hickory stick
positioned and ready to give its first lick.

The wood writes its stripe with a grunted out "One"
for, heavens above, her chastisement's begun
and a flame of white fire courses through that young rump
as the second cut follows with sickening thump.

With the thump on her bottom, Elizabeth grips
holding hard to the trestle with in-bitten lips.
Three and four follow with plenty of time
for her father undoubtedly knows how to "lime".

And now he wraps round her the full of the tip
whose burrowing ache and blistering nip
extract his first 'music' - a quick stifled cry
Chastisements due toll, howe'er hard Betsy try.

Brave Elizabeth tries with her might and her main
to suffer in silence the scorch of the cane
but if seven is hell she gets eight at a run
her bottom is blazing, her pluck is near done.

Yes the pluck of poor Betty is seen in her face
when she turns it to daddy, as red as her base.
"Oh Father, oh please you have set me on fire!
Oh please, can't you cane me a little bit higher?"

"Please come up higher.." she piteously begs
"...the last two you gave me were down on my legs!
I'm trying to bear it the best that I know
but it isn't fair, daddy, to beat me so low!"

"You're cutting so low that it's down in the fold
where its tender and sore...if I might be so bold
I'll even take extra if higher you'll come...
In short, oh papa, please oh please just my bum!"

"I'll beat it..." he told her "...I'll beat it all right
just spread your cheeks wide and get it up tight"
and the last strokes he gave her were deadly and true
Betty yelped like a puppy and, be fair, wouldn't you?

The last that he dealt were so terribly strict
she leapt up as if by some mule she'd been kicked
for a second she seemed with the sawhorse to wrestle
in the next she had leapt from that terrible trestle.

She leapt up in terror as the last caught her well
clipping in underneath like a brand hurled from hell
it came right in to the region so tender, defined
the most feminine part of poor Betty's behind.

Poor prancing Elizabeth holds hard her rear
quite lost to all modesty now then I fear
as stamping with pain and howling her woe
she kneads her young bottom like soft stripy dough.

Kneading her buttocks and panting again
she writhes in the grip of real punishment pain.
Her father regards her, a light in his eyes
with a grin he confounds her - "Did I say you could rise?"

For rising before permission is given
is extra, alas - however you've striven
in vain poor Elizabeth falls to her knees
in vain do her salt tears now back up her pleas.

Once more she goes over in tearful despair
Once more stern papa whips that cane through the air.
The dozen's a butcher's - all ways of that word -
"Now off to your mother" is all that she heard.

Leaden limbed, dewy eyed and holding her bum
Betty dresses and drags herself off to her mum.
Her bottom is blazing, it seems twice the weight
the weals thick as fingers whose smart won't abate.

"Mama I am sorry, I apologise quite"
and curtseying Betty displays quite a sight
for turning she shows to mum her bare seat
its lily white hue turned the colour of beet.

She must turn and display the results of her crime
transgression's reward and humility's prime
the work of her father's skill with the cane
"Dear Mama, I shall ne'er answer back once again!"

With raised skirt in a corner our sinner must pass
an hour with the bible, while quite bare of ass
reading the prophets, while, rueful of face,
one hand rotating the skin of her base.

Bare of behind and a Bible before her
Elizabeth's mind is in growing disorder.
Her pain is below but her mind's overhead
where the squeak of a mattress, the springs of a bed...

...cause a blush to creep o'er Elizabeth's cheeks
hearing lusty large lungings, Mama's answering shrieks
as her father, as always after Betty's disgrace
exacts his reward from...a different place!!

You Completed the Caption

 

Here is how the photo was captioned on VeryDemotivational.com, and now here are your captions:

Archedone: What is this thing? Is it used for spanking?

GaryNTboy: IRAN TESTS THEIR LATEST ARMOUR PLATED PANTS !

Cathie Cooky: Cut that out, I am not your wife.

Sir Wendel Jones: The Elite Suicide Spanking Squad

Michael: "Rocket in his pocket"

"Ass missile proves a dud"

"The Afghanistan comedy team of Fariad & Farrin, The Two Stooges, perform live (for now) in Kabul for Afghanistan President Hamid Karzai"

Anon: Surplus Missile Used as Spanking Implement

wo Arabs walk into a Missile surplus dump....looking for new ways to discipline their wives, they try spanking on each other with an empty missile.

Do you think my wife will like this?

Kingspan: And you thought a hairbrush delivered a powerful spank!

Minelle: Let me see if this makes a good spanking tool. Nah...not so hot. Much too cumbersome.

Ronnie: He'd found another use for his RPG.

Vfrat25000: You idiot, you stole the secrets to our new rocket from Toys R Us. Toys R Us is NOT an Aerospace Company it’s a TOY STORE, a fricken TOY STORE!

Be afraid…Be very afraid. Iran has successfully developed a nuclear tipped Bullsh*t Detector. They demonstrated the device in the village square in front of a huge crowd.

“My beard itches something fierce, my hat smells like hot road kill and I am having a terrible time picking up woman in these pajamas you make us wear.”
“Infidel…Ill teach you to speak out! Hand me the explosive tipped attitude adjuster!”

The Iranian Secret Police finally solved the mystery of the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa. He was apprehended while trying to unionize the Iranian Auto Workers of Tehran.

Tag, your it!...........Oh crap.It was armed……..Sorry Dude!

I want to play Bob Hope…You get to be Bing Crosby…I want to be Bob Hope….NO way…The guy with the missile wins...I play Bob Hope in our new Iranian production of the Road to World Domination.

Why is that Security Officer whacking that guy with a missile?
He secretly recorded “Oprah & The View” on the Royal TIVO! We must make an example of him. 

A. Lurker: Confirmed Sighting: Taliban Harbour Weapons of mAss Destruction

Cross-Dressing Taliban Female Duly Punished

Taliban Give Whole New Meaning to Expression “Getting Bombed”

Young Lady: The men were much better behaved with the new "spanking policies" in place... somehow being spanked was not considered very manly.

Dr. Ken: "Yes, that was me. You were expecting maybe Mary Poppins?"

Bonnie: "That missile is a real stringer!"

I hope everyone had a good time here today, and that you will join me tomorrow for a very special treat.

Complete the Caption

Imagine seeing this photograph on the front page of the World News section of your daily newspaper. What would the headline read?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your submissions in the next post.