The Girl I Did Not Spank

Readership up, comments down. A mystery to me.

I wanted to spank her. But, that was not her thing. I would chase her around her apartment and get in a few licks while she laughed and giggled.

Her kink was faux rape. We would end dates at her place. The way it was played was that after awhile she would retire to her room leaving me to sleep on the couch. After she closed her bedroom door, I was to wait five minutes then sneak into her room. I guess she used the five minutes to paddle her pink canoe. Before going further I should explain that she could lubricate a machine shop. 

She wore a sheer negligee that ended at her waist and equally sheer panties. My mission was to lift the covers, slip next to her and tell her I was going to have my way with her and there was nothing she could do to stop me. She would fight a little and wind up on her back with her knees bent. I would mount her and thrust myself into her with her panties still on. That was her thing, to be taken wearing her panties. The panties were well soaked and actually felt pretty good. She also liked to have her nipples bitten and much harder than I could imagine anyone enjoying. It did not take her very long to come. Afterward, she would move the gusset aside so I could completely enter her. 

Bacall also enjoys being taken. Bound to a tree, being blindfolded and handcuffed, etc. She imagines I am a pirate and she is a Persian slave princess. These things have been blogged about in the past.

As sordid as rape is, it amazes that so many women fantasize about faux rape.


Different Viewpoints

On Division

By Peggy Noonan
June 15, 2017

What we are living through in America is not only a division but a great estrangement. It is between those who support Donald Trump and those who despise him, between left and right, between the two parties, and even to some degree between the bases of those parties and their leaders in Washington. It is between the religious and those who laugh at Your Make Believe Friend, between cultural progressives and those who wish not to have progressive ways imposed upon them. It is between the coasts and the center, between those in flyover country and those who decide what flyover will watch on television next season. It is between “I accept the court’s decision” and “Bake my cake.” We look down on each other, fear each other, increasingly hate each other.

Oh, to have a unifying figure, program or party.

More on Division

By Victor Davis Hanson

The United States is dividing as rarely before. Half the country, mostly liberal America, is concentrated in 146 of the nation’s more than 3,000 counties — in an area that collectively represents less than 10 percent of the U.S. land mass. The other half, the conservative Red states of the interior of America, is geographically, culturally, economically, politically, and socially at odds with Blue-state America, which resides mostly on the two coasts.

The two Americas watch different news. They read very different books, listen to different music, and watch different television shows. Increasingly, they now live lives according to two widely different traditions.

Red America and Blue America are spiraling into divisions approaching those of 1860, or of the nihilistic hippie/straight divide of 1968.

Currently, some 27 percent of all Californians were not born in the United States. More than 40 million foreign-born immigrants currently live in the U.S. — the highest number in the nation’s history.

Either the United States will return to a shared single language and allegiance to a common and singular culture, or it will eventually descend into clannish violence.

Things are bad now. But our own history suggests that if we are not careful, they can get even worse.

From the Coyote Blog

The world seems to be moving away from intellectualism.  I say this not because Trump voters were somehow rejecting intellectualism, but because intellectuals themselves seem to be rejecting it.  They act like children, they are turning universities into totalitarian monoculters, and they compete with each other to craft mindless 140-character “gotchas” on Twitter.  I challenge you to even find a forum today for intellectual exchange between people who disagree with one another.

From several people of note:

In 1843 Alexis de Tocqueville wrote that he had studied the Quran a great deal, His conclusion was there been few religions of the world as deadly to men as that of Muhammad.

Churchill said, How dreadful are the curses which Mohammedanism lays on its votaries! Besides the fanatical frenzy, which is as dangerous in a man as hydrophobia in a dog, there is this fearful fatalistic apathy. The effects are apparent in many countries. Improvident habits, slovenly systems of agriculture, sluggish methods of commerce, and insecurity of property exist wherever the followers of the Prophet rule or live. A degraded sensualism deprives this life of its grace and refinement; the next of its dignity and sanctity.

General George Patton also had unflattering things to say about Islam. To me, it seems certain that the fatalistic teachings of Mohammed and the utter degradation of women is the outstanding calls for the arrested development of the Arab. He is exactly as he was in the year 700.

Liberal Bill Maher has noted that there is only one faith that kills you or wants to kill you if you draw a cartoon of the prophet and that there is only one faith that kills you or wants to kill you if you renounce the faith. It’s more than just a fringe element.  The comparison of Muslim violence to Christianity is liberal bullshit.

More from Camille Paglia

On Sean Hannity’s nationally syndicated radio show, author and University of the Arts professor of humanities and media studies Camille Paglia railed against the current state of journalism in America.

Paglia called what she said the Democratic Party had done to journalism “absolutely grotesque” and warned it would take decades to recover.

“It’s obscene,” she said. “It’s outrageous, OK? It shows that the Democrats are nothing now but words and fantasy and hallucination and Hollywood. There’s no journalism left. What’s happened to The New York Times? What’s happened to the major networks? It’s an outrage.”

“I’m a professor of media studies, in addition to a professor of humanities, OK?” she continued. “And I think it’s absolutely grotesque the way my party has destroyed journalism. Right now, it is going to take decades to recover from this atrocity that’s going on where the news media have turned themselves over to the most childish fraternity, kind of buffoonish behavior.”

Spanking/Sex On The First Date

The headline should attract some attention. I don’t advocate sex on the first date. I am not condemning it either or saying that I did not do it or want to do it more than once. But, looking back I think building the passion is worthwhile. Besides a one time a passion or mercy fuck is not always that pleasant a memory. One or both may regret it if one is more attached than the other. I have a fond remembrance of the time when the heart might be taken as seriously as an orgasm – of a time when both enjoyed the possibilities of moonlit summer evenings.

I happily recall the times I spanked my dates as a teen. The result was a half nude girl with a pink bottom who was quite passionate. I also recall the first time I spanked a gal as an adult. [Other than Bacall] I had her raise her skirt to her waist while I was seated on the spanking chair. I then pulled her panties down. This is normal for a spanking, but it would not work on a vanilla date. I don’t think asking a woman to just pull up her skirt on the first date would work out all that well. Do you?

So I am wondering how dating between switches works. I am talking of those like Bacall and I who have spanking and sex-linked together. I will assume that many emails and phone chats precede the meeting and probably a meeting just to look each other over. Perhaps they worked out how they would handle the sexual tension. Deny it, accommodate it without intercourse or play it by ear.

A woman’s sexual excitement is concealed. With a man, her arm swinging a paddle would not be the only thing waving around. I once suppressed my excitement with women not wanting to seem to be demanding. I would not do that now. I learned that suppression spoiled the paddling. If sex is not on the table, the women would just have to take my boner as a fact of the way it is or a compliment.

I am most curious how women approach first spanking encounters. 
When the woman is a bottom, I would think that situation would be the easiest to handle. It would be the first date, but she would be partially nude. Not a big thing in my mind.

If she is a top, he is going to be partially nude with a boner. 

If they are switches, they will both be devoid of clothing. How is this handled?

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Return To Bend Over Rock

Bacall writes:

I don’t know the reason, but going to certain settings gets me all tingly. We have been in two of those settings recently. The first was a private setting surrounded by red rocks. [The Valley Of Fire in Nevada] Bogey got the paddle out and I was excited before I ever got out the door.  I happily followed him into the rocks so that I could get the paddling that I had been looking forward to. No need to pretend that I didn’t want this because I really did. With every pop of the paddle, I became more aroused. Thank goodness no one was around us.

The second setting, the Alabama Hills, is one of our favorite places. The scenery is spectacular and it is very private.  A person could play to their heart’s content outside and no one would know.  We were both excited about being here. Bogey was especially ready for his paddling.  We started with a few pops on each after morning coffee. After breakfast, we proceeded to “Bend Over Rock” for a joint paddling session. I wanted Bogey to remember the paddling for a while, so I did not hold back.  When it was my turn, I bent over the rock and smiled between the saying “ouch” and “oooh”. After our return from the rock, we were both sated.

Bogey writes:
I put a blanket on Bend Over Rock to protect our skin from the sharp rock face. I took a photograph. We were as randy as teenagers and did not take time for any photo’s during the paddlings. A day or two later Bacall posed for a picture on the rock.