I wonder how much he had to tip the bellboy to carry this to the suite?
This is not the first post on spanking benches we have done. [See tag in the right column]
It seems that all activities evolve to include special equipment. Spanking included.
Here are some examples of custom built spanking furniture suitably adorned with willing participants.
In my younger spanking years, I never thought that women dreamed about being draped and bound over a spanking bench. Build one, a bench, and they will come.
Being locked in tends to play with the mind.
It looks like a TV dinner table to me, but it works for her.
We had these old style desks in the seventh grade. The floors were wood and soaked in decades of liberally applied linseed oil. The building would have burned quickly. [No, I had nothing to do with it!] And no, I was never bent over one of these desks. This was the only grade that I escaped the paddle. They were trying something different on me – sitting on a couch in the office.
Here are three pictures that do it for me.
Is she anticipating or rubbing the sting out?
I think she is having a bit of difficulty entering the final stage of submission. She has her panties almost, but not quite, down. I’ll wager she will take some time to bend over. That’s an action that many women find difficult to do. Bending over is different from the comfort of closeness and being held OTK.
An most elegant spanking bench. I like that her heels are raised.
Bogey writes: Yesterday, Bacall mentioned that I would need to tie her up today. I understood. In our early life, we had a hard time understanding each others needs because we did not communicate. After attending a few spanking parties we decided we could actually tell each other what we wanted to happen to us. I know that asking for a spanking is considered worse than shooting yourself in the foot for many, but it works for us.
Tie her up meant she wanted some light bondage and some heavier paddling. Got it. I mentioned things that might happen to her the rest of yesterday and continued teasing her today. She quivered a little each time. By late morning, she had worked herself into a darn good resemblance of a submissive lass.
Today is a nice rainy morning, so what else do you do on such a day, but play. We discussed it yesterday so as to build the excitement. [Anticipation, trepidation, etc.] And what a morning it was. I dressed in my Persian Slave Princess attire and was summoned upstairs where the spanking bench was waiting. I was blindfolded and my hands were cuffed. I was told to kneel down on the bench and the cuffs were attached to the bench. Obviously I was not leaving that position. Being blindfolded gives a sense of loss of control and kind of disorientation. I did not know what would happened. Well, that’s wrong, I knew exactly what was going to happened, I just didn’t know which implement was going to be used first.
First was the leather slapper. It’s delightful for me, not too much sting but a wonderful slapping sound which is so important to the mind. Of course, Bogey got a few “Oh’s and Ouch’s from me. Then Bogey instructed me to give him deep kisses on his love muscle, which I was more than happy to do. Next came the crop and I don’t know who enjoyed it more. If something else was used, I just don’t know it because my mind was so into my bottom. I got a break and was released from the bench.
Next we came back downstairs to our bedroom. [Darling, you forgot about sitting in the chair with your legs held up high and getting eight licks with the batten on your inner thighs. I must not have done a very good job since you forgot. I promise to make it up to you] My panties came down and I bent over the bed and received pops with my holey paddle. By then my mind was so into this, so Bogey used the red paddle, which I must say was completely satisfying. And the rest — well you can figure that out.
This is the kneeling bench we made. I did the carpentry and Bacall did the upholstery. There are eye straps on the front to clip wrist cuffs to.
The construction required several fittings until Bacall was able to determine that the height of the bench was just right. Fittings required her to drape herself over the bench and for me to apply the crop to her up turned bottom. It was difficult, it slowed construction, but we kept at it and got it right in the end.
One feels a little helpless bent over like this, clipped in, knowing you will be taking whatever comes.
Don’t think it fits her just right?
Sorry about the Watermarks, but I really hate to see our pictures turn up on other Blogs without credit.
Of the several illustrators of the percussive arts, [still refusing to use the term TTWD], Paula Meadows is my fav and this is one her drawings that I find to be…. well illustrative of her talents.
The woman is imagining herself draped over the horse, completely exposed to him. Notice her right hand is on her bottom.
I am also enamored with her skirt and blouse from the well dressed era that has sadly passed.
Anywho, the illustrator provided the props for the mind to work without nudity or suggestion of violence.