I am so needy. It’s about all I can think about. I mentioned that Bacall slipped and fractured her right wrist. And, of course, she is right handed. She has a full cast on. It’s going to be weeks. At the first of the year, she had rotator cuff surgery, so she was out of commission for months then. This seems worse. We don’t know any spanko’s here. Add to this that most of the spanking blogs are at a low ebb right now. Or maybe it’s just me.
I don’t understand spanking in the bath. Did you get spanked in the bath. Do you want to be spanked in the bath? I once paddled a gal in the bath, but that was so I could keep water flowing over her bottom while I paddled away. Yes, we both got wet and the bath room needed mopping afterwards. The paddling did get her attention.
This is what I want to see in my bath.
Or Miss Sweet Cheeks
Pardon me. A serious post today. Your thoughts are solicited.
There are many things that are adjacent to spanking. Spanking is the main course for some of us and for others it is tangential. So if a man wants to spank a woman until she cries is he really saying he is turned-on by tears?
Tears are no turn-off for people with dacryphilia. Some dacryphilics are sexual sadists turned on by the humiliation factor of seeing someone in tears. Others simply find the sight or sound of crying arousing, or find the emotional release and comfort appealing.
Dacryphilia is truly unusual, at least for men. A 2011 study found that the scent of tears decreases both testosterone and sexual desire in males.
It’s my birthday and tomorrow is the Fall Equinox. The former seem to come more often. The latter marks the end of summer.
Good news, bad news. Bacall slipped and fractured her right wrist. My bottom will be un-spanked for a long time. The good news today is that surgery is not needed and she will have almost complete use of her hand.
Sometime back I posted pictures of women on stairs that were going to spank a man. Since I am a switch, I wanted to post the other side. So I uploaded this post on a Saturday for Monday publication. I was surprised to see another blog use the same theme with two of the same pictures on his Sunday post, so I decided to save this one until now. Pssst. I fletched one of his pictures and added it to this post.
I wonder if Bacall recalls what happened when she slid down the banister?
I really like the last one.
I found a few more pictures of women on stairs with implements of ass destruction. Could it be that they are going to paddle a man? I wonder if this comes from “Get upstairs to your room young man and get yourself ready. I will be up there shortly to paddle you”.
Oh well, I would like to be sent upstairs by any of these women. The second one, looks well prepared.
In the first grade, all the kids in my school knew the principal had a paddling machine. You might get some swats from the teacher; but if you were really bad, you would make a trip to the principal’s office and she would put you on the machine and no one wanted that. I remember, the principal looking directly into my eyes one day and telling me that if my unruly behavior continued I would find out about the paddling machine. She told me it could give 20 licks a minute. She then asked me if I thought I could take that? I was already teary-eyed and this made me shake all over. Mrs. Ogara, the principal, was around 45, I guess, overweight and had a rather intimidating presence. Nevertheless, I was young, sassy and stupid, so while I never encountered the mechanical spanking machine, she paddled me several times a year all through grade school.
Hermoine recently posted a spanking machine story. This tale does not use a machine, but it has a similar theme. From the vault, a 1998 spanking story.
The spank-o-maniac that I am, I have often wondered about a Pay-for-paddling business. Let’s say you get a speeding ticket. The fine is $100 or 20 licks. If you choose the licks you would go to a court approved spanking parlor, pay a nominal fee, take your licks and the matter would be settled. A great place to practice your forehand and get paid at the same time. Well, here is how it might be.
This Spank-o-matic was in a strip mall in the suburbs, right next to Baskin-Robbins. The front was all glass, the kind that reflects the sun and that you can not see through. The name was in small gold leaf on the door. A chime sounded when I opened the door. As my eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to the florescent lights, I became aware that a female voice was inquiring “May I help you?” I focused in the direction of the voice and saw a pleasant looking young lady at a small desk. The name plate introduced her as Kim Magnum. I mumbled ‘Yes” and as I walked in her direction, I became aware that there were a few other folks in the waiting area. I told her that I was here to get a paddling for speeding as I tried to calmly fish the court papers out of my jacket pocket. Kim just smiled at my nervousness and waited until I handed her the papers. She looked at them and remarked “Oh, Judge John’s, — 30 licks — Wow! How fast were you going in the schoolyard?” I said, “No schoolyard, third offense.” She logged me in on the computer, said it would be a short wait and to take a seat.
I sat in one of the chairs that circled the room and tried to look normal and wonder why the others were here. Two men came out, crossed the waiting room and were out the front door. Shortly, Kim announced that Mr. Baker could go back now. And a few seconds later that Miss Star could go back now. That left me and another young man in the room. True to her word, only minutes later Kim matter of factly announced that we could go back now. I followed the young man through the door. There were two ladies waiting in the hall, the first one said to the young man to go in the second door on the right, the next lady said for me to follow her.
I followed her down the hall past several closed doors and into an open one. There was not much in the room. It had the look of a examing room. A padded bench was in the center of the small room. A large paddle lay on a desk, along with some office supplies, a computer terminal and a box of Kleenex. She flipped a switch on the wall and said her name was Sue Paker and asked mine. She glanced at the computer screen said that it indicated that I was to receive 30 licks and asked if that was correct. I said Yes. She said that we were being video taped and for me the stand at the end of the bench and drop my pants and underwear. I did. She moved a curved metal bar that was hinged on one side of the bench until it was around my upper thighs. It made a sound like handcuffs being closed, until it was snug against my legs. She then told me to bend over the bench until my chest was flat on it. Then she pulled a wide leather strap over my back and secured it. I was not going to be moving very much. I saw her pick up the paddle, take position beside me, swing her arm back and then forward. When it made contact, my breath came out and my bottom suddenly felt like a swarm of hornets had hit it. There was no pause between the licks. the licks rained down — left cheek, right cheek, left cheek as fast as she could swing. Before ten, I was squirming hard to get away. After a few more I was blubbering for mercy.
It was over! She released the strap and bar and told me to pull up my clothes. She handed me a coupla tissues, entered something in the computer and said I could leave now. With that she left and I did too — with a smarting bottom.