What a happy spankette! Another MOAP. She reminds me of a gal I used to paddle – a size 2 with a bubble butt. I would sometimes ask her to pick a paddle. She would always hand me one just a bit smaller than this one.

Not a chocolate bar, carved wood. Yummy.

Another MOAP. Did you ever sign a paddle?

Sometimes the teacher gets the wood.

Seems effective

Beautiful eyes

Always like to see a gal holding a paddle to be used on her or me. Makes no difference.

The fireplace reminds me of a cabin we rented in Georgia mountains. But, I think this is from a commercial shoot. Another MOAP.

A Note From the Divine Miss E

If you have been reading her notes, you have no doubt noticed that she romanizes the relationship. I am just being me. While she has wanted a man to take charge of her since she was quite young. She is quite intelligent and with intelligence comes the ability to manipulate others and get away with things. She has had it her way her whole life. Now she has someone who will challenger her.

Tue Feb 02 19:19:59 1999

I love to muse on how delicious it is to hear your stern voice upbraiding me, knowing what will come next. The emotional struggle to make myself raise my skirt.

The terrible feeling of helplessness when you ease down my panties. The impending doom as I await the first blow. Trying to not show how much it hurts, but finally having to beg you to stop. And just being OTK.

The pressure of your left hand on the small of my back, pinning me down. I know I can’t get away until you
let me. The emotion in your voice as you spank me harder. Feeling so exposed and powerless. Seeing you reach for another paddle, to start again. Arousal. Fear. Wishing for an even more intimate punishment. I miss you. I need you.

An Alabaster Bottom Spanked Raw

by BillnKate

She nervously fumbled through her closet trying to find the right outfit, finally coming to the conclusion that there is just not a good way to dress for a spanking.  With that in mind she slipped on a pair of plain white cotton panties, a faded pair of jeans, and strap shouldered top.  She found herself fidgeting with the snap and zipper on the jeans, the anxiety of what she knew was about to happen causing her fingers to tremble.  She had agreed to this and as much as she wanted to back out she would not.

Composing herself she took a final look in the mirror and headed out the door for the short drive to his home.  It was a beautiful Spring day as she drove to his house and all to soon she found herself at his driveway.  She rang the buzzer and was greeted by his calm voice that simply said “you are expected” and then the door opened.  She wanted to run back to her car and drive away but with hesitation she stepped inside.

“It has been sometime since we had one of these visits and I intend to make this one you will not soon forget”.  He took her dainty hand in his and led her down a hallway into his study.  It was a very stately room, finished in teak wood with the faint smell of old books that filled the shelves.  Her eyes were immediately drawn to a leather ottoman and more specifically the small wooden paddle that was placed directly in the center of it.  He had a seat in the center of the ottoman taking the paddle in his hand and began to tap it on his thigh. ” You know our agreement young lady and you know exactly why you are here so we will not waste time discussing the situation as there will be no excuses accepted.

Undress yourself, fold your clothes neatly and place them on the corner of the desk.”  She trembled at the humiliation of what was about to happen and was transfixed by the firm tone of his voice.  Again she fumbled with the snap of her jeans and slipped them down over her hips stepping out of them and placing them on the desk, followed by her top.  She had not bothered with a bra so now she stood before him in only her panties.  But of course that last bit of dignity provided by the small bit of cotton cloth had to come off too.  She slipped then down and now stood fully nude before him.  She felt so vulnerable and exposed, placing her hands over the small landing strip of pubic hair that she maintained in a futile attempt at modesty.


He took her by the wrist and she found herself being pulled over his lap, a position she had assumed so many times before but each time was just as frightening as the first time. Her bottom was now perched lewdly over his knee, unblemished alabaster twin globes framed by amber tan lines.  She felt him place the paddle across her bottom and then held her breath as she felt it withdraw knowing it was about to descend on her bottom full force.  The impact was announced with a sharp whack and the breath that she had held rushed out of her along with a squeal.

Over and over the paddle found its mark, alternating from check to check leaving angry red marks in its wake.  She struggled but he had her firmly in his grasp and there was no escape from the assault of that dreaded paddle. She whimpered and pleaded but to no avail, he was determined to spank her soundly and no amount of promising to be good would be accepted.

Smack, Smack, Smack, the paddle found its mark right on her sit spots.  The sting was almost unbearable and tears flowed freely down her checks dropping onto the floor below her.  She grasp the leg of the ottoman with all her might as he continued raining down swat after swat on her bottom.  The once pale alabaster skin now had taken on a deep red with little purple splotches at her sit spots.  Circular bullseye marks now appeared on each cheek but still he continued to blister her bottom.  She struggled and squirmed to no avail but eventually her body became limp, all resistance spanked out of her.

Finally she heard a snap and realized that the paddle had broken, half of it landing on the floor beside her.  The spanking was over but she laid limp across his lap.  She felt his hand caress each glowing cheek, feeling the warmth and no doubt admiring the sight before him. She felt him grasp her shoulder and begin to lift her up off his lap and back onto her feet.  Her knees were wobbly and she rushed both hands back to grab those well paddled cheeks.  The tears continued to flow and her bottom felt hot and hard to the touch were the paddle had done its work.

Although she had been so concerned with her modesty and nudity before the spanking at this point it never even entered her mind as she furiously rubbed her bottom in a futile attempt to rub the sting out.  Slowly she slipped her panties back on.  They felt tighter as she pulled them up over her now swollen bottom and her jeans produced the same sensation as she stepped into them and pulled them up, again fumbling with the button and zipper. The strapless top followed and covered her pert breasts as she pulled it down over her belly button. Slowly she made her way back to the door with promises to be good all along the way.  As she drove home she felt that familiar tingling sensation between her legs.  She was moist and every nerve awakened.  She hated being spanked but for reasons that she did not totally understand it always aroused her.  As she drove home she knew that she would have to satisfy that yearning that tingled between her legs even as her bottom was still burning.

My Jeans Phase

Hands is responsible for bringing this memory to mind.

There was a young lass who liked to play the schoolgirl role. She had the uniforms and ties.  If you went to any of the early Chicago parties, you probably met her. You may have paddled her or she you.

She came by this honestly. Her parents sent her to a private HS. You already know the drill. Bare bottom bent over a chair while the principal put the wood to her. Her Mom would be present to witness the paddling. What they did not know was that paddling turned her on.

She told me about her school paddlings and wanted to relive them. And so we did. I used my longboard paddle and put her mind back in that place.

Time passed and she played too heavy with some guy and developed a spot on her bottom that was really painful. So no more bare bottom paddlings. However, she was most agreeable to being paddled with her jeans on. And that’s when I developed my jeans phase. I enjoyed cracking the paddle on her jeans more than on her bare bottom.

I enjoyed doing this with several other gals, including Bacall, who thought “Oh boy am I ever getting away with something”. [It’s like when paddle breaks on them. It’s “Woohoo, I broke the paddle”. And tells everyone of her achievement. Totally different than “He broke the paddle on me”.

I don’t have a single picture of me paddling a jeans clad bottom, so these commercial ones will have suffice. [Yes, these was a time when no one had a phone camera. Portable phones came in bags.]

Tall, slim waisted and could reach her ankles.

So I did four posts this week. Still half in the ditch with fatigue, but my appetite has returned. 

Ye Ole Wood Paddle

My personal percussion toy has always been the wood paddle applied with gusto.

This is a rare photo. One taken by “amateurs”. It is so refreshing to see one that is not from the commercial side of spanking. Yes, your neighbors, friends, co-workers spank.

These two are up to mischief. Black lingerie on the beach at night. They knew what was going to happen when they dressed to get undressed.

Classic Nu-West, Penny getting her revenge on a fellow model that she had an issue with.

A person who doesn’t believe that too much is enough.

The next two bring back some memories for me.

Fun Party

No yearbook in the 60’s was printed without someone getting a spanking.

Can you stand another picture of schoolgirls?

How many hundred/thousand pictures of “schoolgirls” being paddled for not turning in their homework, being late for cheer practice, etc. have you seen? I have seen more than enough.

This picture triggered a memory of the kangaroo courts that were held at some of our parties. They were the idea of the girls. Let me tell you when they were “on stage” the rest of the group were in for some laugh-out-loud times from these instant comedians. When the girls were not cracking wise, they were throwing one another under the bus. One “on stage” would testify about a gal in the audience who would replace her on stage.

Picture an audience of 20-something people watching the performance.

Why didn’t we record these performances?

While being late for cheer practice is commonly punished, how come being late for Latin club goes unpunished?

A Dream

I don’t dream a lot. At least I have few dreams that I recall when conscious. I had a totally new one the last week. Christmas themed. I was really buff looking. Back to my 20’s. Solid abs. I was nude, my only covering was a gold sparkly sock over my balls. My large and ample penis looked a little longer. Such are dreams.

I was looking down a snow covered street lined on both sides with women holding decorated paddles. Some of the paddles even had lights on them.

The women smiling and giggling well fortified with wine. I was going to have to pass through the gauntlet and take their paddles.

Looks like 2022 will be a rehash of 2021. You have the play the cards you are dealt. We may all need some luck to stay sane.