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Here's a story for ya! - My Tomboy Bride

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Well, if this is Monday then it must be time for another new story, and this is my favourite of my recent works; I really like the characterisation, and I fell a little in love with Stevie as I wrote it (despite her many faults).

Anyway, here it is, complete and unabridged. 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and come back next Monday, for another new story.

Incidentally, if you want to see more of my older stuff (there's some posted here on the blog but not all of it) please check out The Kilahara Library of Spanking Fiction, where I have 9 serials and 23 stories. A few other people have posted the odd story too!

Moving on then. Oh, and one word of warning - it's a bit long.

Please welcome into your hearts......


My Tomboy Bride

It was a pleasantly warm early Summer afternoon; I lay on the sofa, feet dangling over it's arm, head on a cushion, and tried to decide exactly when I needed to start cooking Sunday tea.

I was calculating the cooking time for a 2 kilogram piece of pork loin; I'd had a beer with lunch, and, warmly sleepy, concentration wasn't coming easy to me.

I had another beer balanced on my chest, one hand gently gripping the neck of the bottle, and my index finger tapping on it's rim.

CRASH!

The noise, glass shattering nearby, made me throw myself sideways, off the sofa. My beer bottle flew, sending a sudsy stream across the wooden flooring. I hit the ground with rather less grace, spinning as I fell so that my nose smacked against the varnished grain.

CRASH!

The noise came again; what the hell was going on? I scrambled, a little unsteadily, to my feet, and tried to decide exactly where the noise had come from. It seemed to me that it was from the garden, which was strange as we only had a plastic bunker type of shed out there.

Then I remembered that I had last seen Stevie heading for the back door, and a sense of panic set in. It wasn't that I was worried she had been hurt; it was much more that I was terrified as to what my wife had done now.

I ran through the kitchen, and into the utility corridor; at the end of it stood the back door. I skidded to a halt in front of this, and for a moment, I just waited. I didn't dare to actually open it.

I took a deep breath; it was time for all good men to come to the aid of the party or some such crap. I grasped the handle, pushed it downwards, and smoothly swept through the opening.

At first glance there was no one in the garden. The decking was empty, as was the patio that lay beyond it, and our oval of well-groomed lawn stretched out undisturbed. At the end of the garden stood our ageing and rather impressive apple tree, and movement within it caught my eye.

About half way up, standing on a sturdy branch, one arm pulled back as she prepared to hurl the apple that was clutched within it, stood my wife, Stephanie. She was resplendent in tight denim shorts, above which she wore a t shirt that declared “The Ramones – It's Alive!”. Stevie was bare foot, with lovely long legs and bobbed blond hair, and she turned as I gasped.

"Stevie! What the bloody hell are you doing?”

"Oh hi, darling. Umm, nothing.”

Nothing? Really?”

Well, next to nothing then.”

By this point I knew exactly what she had been doing; our garden backed onto that of Mr Pettifer, and near the end of that was his greenhouse, in which he grew his prize winning tomatoes. He and Stevie had not quite hit it off.

Stevie was bombarding his prize produce with apples.

Get out of that tree, you idiot! And drop that apple, at once.”

Oh, this one? Okay, if you say so.” and saying this, with unerring aim, she pitched the apple through another panel in the greenhouse. The resounding crash revealed that it had been one of the ones that she had yet to break. It had been.

With an elegant grace, she dropped from branch to branch, eventually swinging down from the lowest one, to land lightly on her toes. She extended her arms, like a gymnast at the end of a successful routine, and smiled her wonderful winning grin, wide, toothy and infectious.

Oh, Stevie, what was I going to do with you?

...........................


We had met only 2 years earlier, when Stevie was 22 years old, and I was 43. I had never looked covetously at younger women; I had married young to my first love from college, and we stayed together until she was taken from me in a car accident, 6 years later.

Since then I hadn't dated; I wasn't still mourning, but I couldn't picture another women in Veronica's place. I was content enough; I had a good job, a lovely house, and a circle of friends who accepted me the way that I was. It had been years since anyone had even tried to set me up with a date.

I did have an active social life though, and one of my friends, a guy who had been named Arthur by old fashioned parents, was a bit of a paintball fiend. He would get a group of around 8 of us together, every month or so, and arrange for us to compete against another team from the area.

Apparently paintball was quite popular around the town, as he never seemed to struggle to find a team to play with, and it was a different one each time.

Stevie burst into my life when she dropped from a tree into the midst of a group of us, as we stood around and planned our strategy. She was screaming, and spinning, and firing wildly, but before any of us could react we were all daubed with her yellow paint, and thus out of the game.

She grinned, saluted, and darted between two trees, and away, to seek out the reminder of our group. I couldn't see a lot of her, clad as she was in a protective blue boiler suit, but even through her thick goggles her eyes just seemed to sparkle.

At first glance, Stevie was entirely bewitching.

It turned out to be the shortest paintball round we'd ever had, as Stevie created havoc diving in and out of the wooded area, and in very little time at all she had tagged the lot of us.

Arthur wasn't awfully impressed by this; he was rather a sore loser, and he demanded that the captain of our opponents tell us where this wild woman had come from. He was a little uncomplimentary in the way that he described her, which was unfortunate because as he began his tirade she emerged from cover, and heard all of it.

Her revenge came swiftly; she tapped Arthur on the shoulder, and, as he turned, she levelled her pistol at his groin, and shot him. The pellet hit him hard, especially as he wasn't prepared for it. Or the five additional shots she placed in the same area.

As Arthur writhed on the floor, his attempts to grasp his genitals only smearing paint all over him, Stevie dropped her weapon, removed her goggles, and apologised to the rest of us.

Arthur she ignored; clearly she was implacable in her wrath.

It was our custom that the losers should buy the winners a drink, so we all, with the exception of Arthur, who felt quite sick and whom in any case we were shunning in view of his bad manners, adjourned to the local pub, The Slaughtered Lamb (it's landlord at the time was a big film fan).

I always enjoyed these drinks; over the years I had found a good deal of pleasure in meeting new people, and I loved to chat about almost anything. Politics and reality shows excepted, of course.

My intentions towards Stevie were benign; I just wanted to get a better idea of what made her tick. Looking back, she must have seen something more in me, as she approached me before I had a chance to seek her out.

Hi, I'm Stevie. Going to buy me a drink then, old man?” She wore faded skin tight jeans, a hole in one knee and a Led Zeppelin patch over the other, topped by a purple sweat shirt that once bore a logo now long since faded.

Her lower legs were encased in black leather boots, more functional than fashionable, and she took my breath away.

Um, yes, of course. Oh, I'm Alan, by the way. What would you like?”

Somehow I was unsurprised when she asked for a pint of Becks; it was hard to imagine this girl sipping delicately at an alcopop, or savouring a sweet sherry.

How old are you anyway?” she asked, with no sense that she prying, or being inappropriate.

Reluctantly I admitted my age, which she just shrugged off with a comment about not quite being twice as old as she was.

When her drink came she downed almost half of it with a series of thirsty gulps, and then she wiped foam away from her mouth with a swift swipe from the back of her hand.

You're not married then?” I confirmed this. “At your age? Are you gay then?” She didn't seem concerned by the prospect, just idly curious.

For the first time in years I told my story to a stranger; she listened, head on one side, in between finishing the pint and ordering another. She offered no comments, and made none of the sympathetic noises, well meant but annoying, that most listeners did.

When I finished she waited for a moment; she seemed to be giving what I'd said a lot of thought.

Well, that's just sad.”

Thank you.” I said, accepting her condolences.

No, no. I mean, what happened to your wife was sad. But no, I meant, your life. You stopped living it. That's sad.”

I should have walked away, angry at being so harshly analysed by this child who had surely never seen anything of real life, but I didn't. I was already at least a little in love with Stevie.

Okay.” My tone was probably a little harsh, but Stevie wasn't concerned. “So what's your story then? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Oh, I don't have much of a story. Or a boyfriend, come to that. Let me give you my potted history; all you need to know in as few words as possible.”

She took another swig of her drink, spread her feet slightly, straightened her shoulders, and cleared her throat. She looked like a Shakespearian actor about to declaim, or at least the Black Adder version of one.

As she opened her mouth I half expected her to roar.

I'm the only child of a lovely couple who live in Devon; I was raised there, but sent away to boarding school in Town.

I have 14 GCSE's, 4 A levels, and a degree in American Literature and Cinema, from Bristol University.

I like film and books, obviously. I also like football, climbing, hill walking and paintball.

I have had three serious boyfriends, but I haven't dated since I left University.

Oh, and people say I'm a tomboy, which is probably true.”

She took another drink, and nodded. “There. That's me. All you need to know. All you need to decide whether to take me home with you.”

I blinked, and shook my head. Christ, I was too young to have developed hearing problems.

Um, sorry. I think I missed that last bit.”

Her grin was the very soul of mischief. She chuckled, a lilting airy laugh that lifted the spirits of everyone around her.

Oh, I don't think you did. I hope this isn't a problem, but I'm very direct.” She wasn't kidding. “Life is too short to wait and see. If I want something I try and get it in the most direct way that I can. If it doesn't work out I haven't wasted a lot of time, and I move on.

An old guy like you should appreciate that.”

You cheeky little brat! You should have more respect for those, um, with more experience than you.”

More experience? You mean, like, older, don't you?”

Yes, I do. I'm twice your age.”

Nearly.” she injected, sotto voce.

And I certainly have enough years on you to give you a good spanking, young lady.”

Her grin was a picture of genuine pleasure.

Well, old man, we'll have to see how the rest of the evening goes, won't we?”

She took my arm, and looked up me. Apparently she still liked what she saw there.

Are we going then?”

I lead her out to my car, and into my house, and into my heart. And she never left.

...................................

Stevie (or more properly, Stephanie Rose) really was a tomboy. Whilst her willowy frame could bring the best out of designer dresses, she hated to wear them, much preferring to wear jeans, leggings and shorts.

When, some 4 weeks after we first met, she formally moved in with me, I was shocked to find that, amongst her wardrobe, she had exactly one dress and two skirts. Not that I ever saw her wear them anyway.

If we went out for a meal to a showy restaurant she would wear tailored slacks, often with one pair or another from her quite impressive boot collection. She looked stunning in whatever she chose to wear anyway.

At first I did try to buy her dresses, but she always refused.

I wasn't looking for a sugar daddy. I have a good job, and I make decent money. I can buy whatever I need. Don't spend money on me.”

I accepted this, but I was at least a bit convinced that this was a rationalisation; she just didn't like pretty clothes.

We had been together for 2 months when I finally got to meet her parents; I admit that I had been putting off the experience, a bit worried as to how they would feel about their only daughter taking up with a much older man.

On first view her parents were unremarkable; a couple at various stages of their fifties, who clearly felt huge affection for each other.

Her mother, Rosemary, had never worked outside of her home in her life. Well, not for money at least; she did spend a lot of time helping around the village in which they lived, and in the three days that I stayed with them she seemed a ball of energy, whirling from one task to the next.

She had a slim figure, a little wiry from the amount of running around she did, and, apparently, it was a common sight in the village to see her hurtling across the Green on her bicycle. Her loud authoritarian voice announced her arrival well in advance of her physical presence.

Jonathan was a much quieter type, a few years older than his wife. He was a respected expert on genre magazines of the 1930's and 40's, and had a huge collection of them, stuffing the shelves on the walls of his study. He came from money, and passed his time writing articles around his area of interest, and advising collectors of the value of their purchases.

As we sat, sipping malt whiskey on the evening of our arrival, I admitted to him my worries, about how the gap in our ages might be seen.

Well, at first, when Stevie emailed us about you, I admit I was a little concerned. But then, I remembered my daughter.

I mean, do you really think that anyone could make her do something that she didn't want to? She has the strongest, oh, I don't know, um, character I guess, of anyone that I have ever known.

If Stevie is with you she has seen something in you. It could only ever be her choice. With Stevie, you just have to accept that she has decided on a course, and then you go with the flow.”

Calling her strong minded doesn't do her justice. I mean, for years we tried to get her to behave more like a girl, and then a young lady. Whatever we said was water off a duck's back.

At one point her mother got so fed up of seeing her around the village in shorts that she threw away every pair Stevie owned. When she found out, Stevie didn't say a thing. She just went up to her room, and shut the door.

An hour later she came down in a pair of denim shorts; she had taken a pair of scissors and cut the legs of all of her trousers, including the ones that she wore for school.

Her mother is a bit traditional; it drove her to tears sometimes, when Stevie just refused to do the things that her Mom felt were ladylike. Eventually even Rosemary gave up; she was the last one to stop calling Stevie Stephanie, but finally she gave in too.”

I digested this, for a moment. I loved Stevie exactly as she was, but what if she decided to do something that I couldn't bear? What if she wanted to start taking The Daily Mail for instance? How would I cope?

I'm pretty sure that Jonathan could see exactly what I was thinking; in fact, I think that what he had said had been a scarcely veiled warning.

He leaned over and patted me on the leg.

Maybe you'll be the one to tame her.” he laughed, buoyed by the sheer impossibility of anyone ever getting the better of Stevie.

...............................................

We got married in the village where her parents lived, almost exactly 12 months to the day after first meeting.

The country church was tiny, with hard wooden seats, and an isle that was slightly crooked. As I stood next to my best man (and, no, it wasn't Arthur) I felt a moment of disassociation; I wasn't really here again, was I? Standing up before Man and God to join my fate to another's.

I wondered what Veronica would have made of Stevie; I'm sure that she would have wanted me to move on, but would she find my choice of partner odd?

The organ began to play, and I looked towards the back of the church; there stood Jonathan, in full morning suit, and on his arm was a vision. My Stevie, in full wedding dress and veil.

For a moment my knees went weak, and I had to clutch my best man's arm to prevent me from falling. A sob clutched at my throat, for what I had lost all those years ago, and for what I was now gaining.

Stevie began her walk up the aisle, and my life changed forever.

.....................

I loved my life with Stevie, but as with any relationship, it wasn't always smooth sailing.

Three months after we married the quiet atmosphere of our little cul de sac was rent by the burbling roar of a large motorbike, Initially I ignored it, but after a couple of minutes I realised that it's idling was coming from outside our house.

I walked to the front window and looked out. There on the drive was a huge black machine, engine occasionally revving, and astride it, clad in tight black leather, was a frame I recognised all too well.

I hated motorbikes; always had, always would. I like the feeling of having a metal cage around me when I venture out onto the idiot filled roads of our country. I suppose that's a little ironic, given how Veronica died.

I rushed to the front door, and threw it open. Stevie removed her helmet, tousled her blond hair, and smiled.

Look what I bought.” She awaited my complimentary response, as though it were her due.

What the bloody hell did you do that for?”

What? What? Um, what do you mean?”

Sorry, let me use small words. Why did you buy a motorbike? And how do you even know how to ride one, anyway?”

Why are you cross? I learned to ride at Uni; my boyfriend taught me. He had one. They're fun; I always meant to get one.”

Why am I cross? Out of the blue, you turn up with that...monstrosity. Without a word first. Without so much as a by your leave or..”

You are not my father!” As though she would have listened to him either! “I wanted a bike, so I bought one. Out of my own money. It has nothing to do with you!”

Clearly I had disappointed my wife. I tried to explain why I didn't feel motorbikes were safe, and that they were too noisy, and that it would leak oil all over our granite paved drive.

It didn't matter what I said. Stevie had decided. The bike stayed.

That wasn't our only disagreement. One year she decided that we should attend the music festival at Glastonbury. At some expense I used a number of contacts and got us VIP passes, so we wouldn't have to wallow in the mud that habitually formed there.

Without telling me Stevie just swapped them for tent passes; she wanted “the full Glastonbury experience”, mud and all. When I refused to go she simply called up a friend and went anyway.

All of this sounds like Stevie was spoiled, and that really wasn't the case. She was, however, very strong willed, and, as she said when we first met, she wanted what she wanted.

Most of the time we had an easy untroubled existence. We each did our thing, and we met in the middle. I was happy; more than that, for the most part I was blissful.


...........................................

And into the Garden of Eden a snake did slide, a serpent called Mr Pettifer.

No, wait, that's grossly unfair. For one thing, Mr Pettifer owned his house in the next close for years before Veronica and I bought ours.

For another, Mr Pettifer was actually a decent enough bloke; he was just a bit set in his ways, and his opinions had been formed when he was young. He believed that the Man ruled the household, and that a woman's place was in the kitchen.

Stevie totally stumped him.

They first met when I asked him if he'd like to pop round for coffee. He had been a relatively frequent visitor after Veronica's accident, and his slightly bluff, no nonsense approach really did help me start to rebuild my life.

By the time Stevie entranced me he must have been around 75 years old; an ex-military man he still bore himself with dignity, marching everywhere that he went. His head was now largely free of hair, apart from a few very grey tufts, but his mustache was full and luxurious, and twitched when he was annoyed.

He spoke perhaps a little too loudly, the inheritance of years as a drill sergeant, and he did have a tendency to interfere, but his heart was generally in the right place.

When I introduced Stevie to him for the first time, she was wearing, as usual, rather small denim shorts, a tight t shirt advertising some band or other, and black leather ankle boots. He solemnly shook her hand, but he still radiated disapproval.

Stevie sensed this at once, and adopted a somewhat hostile and distant attitude. She asked if he wanted coffee, and then, instructing me to get it, she led him to the living room where she selected his seat for him, sitting down across the room, and crossing provocatively long legs.

Her small talk was stilted, and disinterested; you never got a second chance with Stevie.

I joined them, with coffee poured from our filter machine into large mugs; I'd added cream to each, and a single small spoon of sugar to Mr Pettifer's.

He drank from his mug with a satisfied sigh, and, leaning forward, enquired in his stentorian tone

Did you make this coffee, Mrs Steele?”

Stevie looked at him as though he were a rebellious insect she intended to crush beneath the scuffed soles of her boots.

I'm sorry? Did you not just see Alan bring it in?”

Well, yes, but I assumed he just poured it out. You prepared it, of course?”

I was not sure if this was genuine enquiry, or if he was belittling her in some way, but I could see how Stevie took it.

Oh, I stay out of the kitchen.” she said, rather airily. “Alan is a much better cook, and, after all, he's had years of practice.”

So you spend more of your time on the housework? I must say that I've never seen Alan's house look neater.”

What? Oh, no, I go out to work. Alan works from home, as you know, so he does the housework. It gives him a break from the computer.”

Mr Pettifer pursed his lips. He tutted, quietly and to himself, but Stevie heard it and reacted.

Something the matter, Mr Pettifer. Is your coffee too hot?”
Ah, no, it's fine. Lovely in fact.”

Oh yes, Alan is a splendid house husband. I' never have to do any housework. Much more fun to be out drinking with the girls.”

This last part was a bit disingenuous; since we had been together she had left me alone to see her friends exactly once. The other few times she'd asked me to tag along, and I'd been happy to do so.

Mr Pettifer drew himself up on the sofa. He tried to look down at Stevie, but she rose to her feet, and stared at the top of his head instead.

Well, enjoy your coffee; I need to see to our apple tree.” This was code to tell me she was going climbing in it; her curt dismissal was not lost on our guest.

For a time we were silent, each lost in our thoughts. I admit that I was a little irritated at both of them; I had never found it a good idea to judge a new acquaintance too quickly.

Umm, well, she's an unusual young woman, isn't she?” I had no doubt that Mr Pettifer found Stevie's dress, behaviour and attitudes to be far below those he expected from a respectable young woman.

She's a breath of fresh air. I love her.” It was the first time I'd uttered the last sentiment in the presence of any one other than Stevie, and my urgent need to defend her startled me.

We made small talk for a few minutes more, and then Mr Pettifer took his leave. Our visits to each other's houses became much less frequent after that.

Over time Stevie and Mr Pettifer clashed frequently. He hated the sound of her motorbike, he hated to see her skateboarding down the hill at the end of our cul de sac with the local kids, and he hated that she flaunted her legs in shorts so frequently.

Between his greenhouse and the back of his home, Mr Pettifer had several trees of different heights, and, despite his age, he spent quite a lot of time up a stepladder pruning them.

This meant that he could not avoid seeing into our back garden from time to time, and Stevie always delighted in rushing to taunt him by changing into and lying around in the skimpiest bathing costume she could find, sipping a can of beer and reading British war comics or borderline pornographic novels.

If they passed each other in the street, each would ignore the other; if I were with Stevie and stopped to speak with Mr Pettifer she would just keep on walking.

It had been two years now, and hostilities seemed no closer to easing.

.............................

All of which brings us to that fateful Sunday afternoon, and my wife's vandalism of Mr Pettifer's greenhouse.

What on Earth possessed you to do that? That's not mischief Stevie; that's actual vandalism.”

Stevie shrugged this off.

Oh, he deserved it.”

What could he have possibly done to make you want to destroy his pride and joy?” Mr Pettifer really was a very keen gardener.

You know that stray dog? That Irish Setter that all of the kids have been looking after?”

I did, of course. It had turned up, beautifully groomed but with no owner's tag on it's collar, a few weeks ago. The dog, which everyone simply called “Dog”, had been instantly friendly to anyone that approached him, and he was clearly good natured.

The kids, 9 or 10 of them, who lived within 2 or 3 streets, rallied around and decided to look after him, as a communal effort. They pooled their pocket money to feed him, took it in turns to groom him, and each persuaded their parents to allow him to sleep in their garage or shed, at night.

By day he wandered free, and became something of a local attraction. The kids put up posters for miles around, advertising for his owners, but no one had as yet claimed him.

Stevie had suggested we might take him in if no one turned up soon, an idea I was quite keen on, but for now everyone around helped out, and looked after him.

Yes. What about him?”

Mr Pettifer reported him to the police. Said he was a stray, and had been making a nuisance of himself. The dog catcher came and got him. They'll put him down.”

Well, we won't let that happen. We'll go down tomorrow, and offer to take him.”

Really? Oh Alan, that's lovely.” She came to me and hugged me tightly. I could feel the warmth of her smile against my chest.

Grasping her shoulders I pushed her away from me. Holding her at arms length I stared hard at her.

And while I wish Mr Pettifer hadn't called the police, that does not justify destroying his greenhouse.”

He's just a nasty small man! I was so angry!”

And just think how he'll be feeling now. I keep expecting to hear a police car pull up outside.”

Oh, sod him. I can talk my way out of it.”

Stevie actually had talked her way out of speeding tickets twice, when pulled over whilst riding her motorbike. I suspect that her looks were a huge help in this.

I don't think you'll talk your way out of this. Remember, Mr Pettifer was a magistrate; he has friends in the Police, quite high up ones. You'll end up in court.”

And they'll tell me off, and give me a fine. I have money; I'll just pay it.”

It's not as easy as that. You'll have a conviction on you record; you won't find it so easy to convince traffic cops to let you go when they see that.”

Well, what's done is done. I can't very well take it back now, can I?”

Not exactly, no. I'll go and see Mr Pettifer, and pay him for the repairs, and hope I can convince him you're sorry.”

Well, I'm not sorry. Should I come with you? Do you think?”

Good God, no! I want a decent shot at placating him; you'd be like throwing petrol onto a fire.”

I don't like someone else having to do my dirty work.”

Well, that's what husbands are for. Apparently. Just let me talk to him, and try to set things right.”

Stevie pouted; I honestly think that she'd have been happier to justify her actions in court. I fetched my jacket, and my chequebook, and went to see Mr Pettifer.

...............................

I knocked the old brass knocker, and waited. His house was twenty or thirty years older than ours, and built more solidly. No noise from inside carried to the outside world, so when he opened the door it seemed very sudden.

He looked me up and down with disapproval, and then failed to invite me inside.

Look, John, I need to talk to you.”

He actually humphed. I hadn't realised people really did that. He shook his head, and a sour expression crept across his face.

I don't know.”

Oh, come on John. You've known me for a long while. Surely we can talk about this?”

Mr Pettifer thought about this. The door swung fully open.

I suppose you better come in.” This was a relief; a conversation on his doorstep, with the volume his voice regularly displayed, would have been embarrassing.

I followed him through his long narrow hall to the living room at the back of the house. Everything was arranged along straight lines, with nothing so much as an inch out of place, and dust had been banished entirely.

He sat in a large leather armchair; by it's side was an occasional table, on which stood a glass of whiskey, and a telephone.

Mr Pettifer gestured me towards the adjacent chair; I noticed that he didn't offer me a drink.

He sipped from the large chunky crystal glass, and then carefully replaced it on a square mat, the edges of which were parallel to the sides of the table.

I think I shall have to call the police.” I was relieved that he hadn't yet done so. There was still time.

Look, John, there's no need to do that. I'll pay for the damage, and Stevie's really sorry.”

Is she? I doubt that, somehow. If she were sorry, why isn't she here to apologise? In person?”

That was hard to argue with. Of course, we both knew Stevie wasn't sorry at all.

Well, she's upset about Dog. She'll want to apologise when she's calmed down.”

She's upset? What about my tomatoes? My greenhouse? I'll happily accept your money to pay for the repairs, but that won't do anything for the fruit that I lost. All of the work that I put into them. At my age every hour is precious; I don't have that many left.”

Mr Pettifer was clearly genuinely disturbed; this wasn't the sort of petty anger that he and Stevie had been sharing.

I really think that I shall have to call the police. I'm sorry, Alan. I am. But your wife needs to be taught a lesson.”

Look, John, I know what she did was wrong. Stevie knows it too.”

Well, I'm not sure that she does. I want to make sure that she does.”

What she did was childish. It was petulant. It's honestly not worth calling in the police for.”

Well, if she were a child, you could at least tan her backside for her. I think that the police is the only option.”

Now it was my turn to think. Perhaps there was a way out of this, and perhaps it would be appropriate too.

You agree that she acted childishly?”

Yes, of course. Totally inappropriate in a grown up young woman.”

Yes, but she still is a young woman. Not much more than a child.”

Alan, I don't know what you're getting at.”

Well, you agree that she acted like a child. Would you be satisfied if she were punished like a child?”

What, how they treat naughty kids nowadays? You're proposing that you'll ground her? Don't be ridiculous!”

No, no. I was thinking of what you said before. What if I gave her a good old fashioned spanking?”

Mr Pettifer's eyes grew wide, and his mouth dropped open.

You can't do that!”

“Why not? You said that she deserved it. She acted like a child. What could be more appropriate than treating her like a child?”

Yes, but, um,she is a grown women, after all. Wouldn't it be wife beating?”

Well, wife spanking more like it. I'll offer Stevie a choice; either she takes a good sound spanking, or you call the police. So it's up to her.”

I could see that Mr Pettifer was warming to this idea.

Yes, then, but it would need to be a proper spanking; something memorable, not a dozen or so pats on her bottom.”

Oh, I assure you, it would certainly be a spanking that she wouldn't forget. I'd make her wriggle.”

Oh, I hate to ask this, but.... Well, a proper spanking needs to be flesh on flesh, I always believed. So, a bare bottomed spanking?”

Really? Well, I suppose so. I'll need to see that the lesson is, erm, sinking in, anyway. So yes, I suppose so – bare bottomed.”

Mr Pettifer rolled his head, and I could hear his neck crack with released tension.

I really didn't want to call the police, so, if your wife will take a spanking, a proper sound one mind, then I'll let the whole thing drop. Oh, and you'll still pay for the repairs, of course.”

That sounds like a deal to me. And you'll accept my word, that I've spanked her? If she chooses that option?”

Of course. And you'll let me know if she decides on the police?”

We shook hands on our bargain, and now Mr Pettifer did offer me a glass of whiskey. I took it gladly, and, whilst we sipped in comfortable silence, I wondered whether Stevie would see sense.
I was certainly happy to put off the rather awkward interview for as long as I could.


...............................

An hour or so later I unlocked the door to our porch, and entered our house. It was worryingly quiet within; Stevie regularly blasted loud rock music between rooms, which I rather enjoyed, and its absence was quite jarring.

I found Stevie sitting on the sofa in the lounge, deep in thought. It occurred to me that, for once, she did realise that she was in the wrong. That might make what I was about to do easier.

She looked up at me as I entered the room, her face oddly solemn. It was strange to see it not split with her usual grin.

Well, did he call the police?”

No, he hasn't.”

So, you fixed it then?” Stevie's head came up. And tilted quizzically to one side. “I didn't think you'd be able to.”

Well, it's sort of fixed. It depends on you.”

Oh, do I have to go and beg for the old fart's forgiveness? I won't. I'd rather be locked up!” Stevie sounded distraught.

Come on, you know it wouldn't come to that, even if her did call the police. But anyway, hopefully that won't happen. It's up to you though.”

You said that already! How is it up to me? I won't apologise!”

Even thought you know that you over reacted? That you're in the wrong?”
Yes, even then. My pride wouldn't be able to take it.”

Well, lucky for you then, he didn't ask for that. We have another suggestion.” I wasn't quite brave enough to own this idea on my own.

What then? Do I have to volunteer at the Shelter for Orphaned Tomatoes, or something?”

This is the situation. Mr Pettifer feels that you acted like a child, who didn't get her own way. To be fair sweetie, I agree with him.”

Stevie stamped her foot, and then looked down at the offending limb, slightly startled. She was self aware enough to realise that she wasn't behaving in a terribly adult manner.

Oh, I suppose you're right. Both of you.” She spat the second sentence out; it left a bad taste in her mouth. “So, I was childish. It happens. What about it?”

Well, he feels that, because you acted like a child, you should be punished like a child.”

What the hell are you on about?”

Well, when you were at that fancy boarding school, what would they have done?”

Oh, I dunno. Given me detention, or lines. Probably both. Limited my privileges; no leaving the school premises, no socialising, I'd be confined to my room outside of class hours. What, you're going to ground me? Take away my bike keys? Insist I come straight home from work? You've gotta be pulling my...”

I jumped in; Stevie never said leg.

No, no, that's not it. You've got to remember how old Mr Pettifer is. In his day they didn't mess about with half hearted punishments. As he sees them.”

Well, what then? I don't know what you can.... Er, hold on. In those days they beat kids, didn't they? He wants you to hit me?” Her voice rose incredulously. Think Ian Gillan doing Child in Time on Made in Japan. A bit piercing.

No, not hit you. Well, yes, I suppose. He wants me to put you over my knee and give you a good spanking.”

This was something new. For the first time in my experience of her, words failed Stevie. The only noises she could come up with were sort of strangled gulps; there might have been the intent to produce words, but the ability evaded her.

Yes, a good sound spanking. Like you were a naughty child.”

Stevie just shook her head in disbelief.

Surely your Dad must have spanked you, when you were young. He says you were a wilful child.”

Stevie shook her head more firmly.

Standing, she turned away from me and left the room, heading for the kitchen. I watched her go, convinced I would have to tell Mr Pettifer to call the police.

I heard the kitchen tap, and presently Stevie returned, a half emptied glass of cold water in her hand. She gestured with her free hand; a sort of repeating circle.

You don't seriously mean that you've agreed to spank me? For that horrid old man?”

“That old man was a friend of mine long before I met you, and he did a lot to help me through some rough times after Veronica's accident. You know, I regret shutting him out, just because you two don't get on. That wasn't the way to treat a friend.

So yes, my tomboy wife, I have agreed to spank you. And, by God, I'm pretty sure that you deserve it too.”

Stevie looked at me in the utmost disbelief. While we did have disagreements from time to time, I rarely spoke harshly to her. It wasn't really in my nature; I was soft spoken and avoided confrontation as a rule.

But, but.....you don't really think I deserve to be spanked? You can't. This is a joke, right?”

Stevie, my love, you have to know that I hate to see you hurt, in any way. But it seems to me that it has got to the point where you need to learn to curb some of these impulses that you have.

You know that I like, and admire, your parents, but they really should have done a better job of instilling some self control in you when you were a kid. Still, better late than never, and I think that this is a lesson you need to learn. Now.”

Stevie put down the water glass, and walked towards me. She was clearly bewildered by the turn of events. Reaching me, she placed one hand against the side of my face, and then she kissed me gently on my lips.

Well, if you think I need it. I suppose. I just hate that it's because of that old bastard!”

You know, really, it has nothing to do with Mr Pettifer. Anything that happens now is as a result of your own actions. If you were more prepared to take responsibility you wouldn't need to be spanked.”

It was hard for Stevie to digest this, further proof, I suppose, of why she really did need it.

She took a step back, and regarded my stern expression.

Well, we should get it over with then.”

Yes, we should.” I reached out and took her wrist in one hand, and led her to the sofa. It was a huge four seater, firm and supportive.

I sat back in the middle of it, and pulling Stevie around to my right side, I drew her across my lap. She followed my wordless directions with a similar silence of her own.

I paused, finding it hard to believe that I was about to do what I was about to do. Stevie's splendid bottom, encased still in tight denim shorts that were really too small to cover her cheeks, lay raised across my right thigh. Her legs stretched out, almost to the end of the settee, and, in the opposite direction, she peeped back over her shoulder, a wounded look on her face.

I placed my left hand against the small of her back, and my right one naturally snuggled against her left buttock. I considered; should I lecture her whilst I spanked? My Mom had always kept up a stream of recriminations when she spanked me as a kid.

Look Stevie, I don't want to be doing this, but you know that you deserve it, and that you need to learn to control your impulses a bit better.”

Still looking back over her shoulder she huffed, and nodded tersely.

I raised my hand, and, fingers spread slightly, I whacked it down as hard as I could. It smacked against one side of Stevie's butt, and drew a gasp.

Bloody Hell, Alan, that hurt!”

I added a similar second smack to the other side of her bottom.

Yes, Stevie, it's supposed to.”

I added two more smacks, one to each side of her bottom.

Yeoww! What about a warm up?”

A warm up? Do you think this is some sort of game?” Every couple of words my hand fell again; I had started to spank almost reluctantly, but my annoyance was growing with every word Stevie uttered.

No, but, ow! It hurts! Bloody stop it, Alan!”

I continued for another minute or two, accompanied by Stevie's increasingly furious and pained interjections. As I finished I took a deep breath, and expelled it slowly.

You're done? About bloody time? Alan, that really stings! You bastard!”

I helped Stevie to her feet, and reaching across I unbuttoned the clasp at the waist of her shorts, and pulled down the zip.

Stevie tried to bat away my hand. Then she tried to step back, a move which I foiled as I retained a grip on the front of her shorts.

What are you doing? Let go of me. Alan, you vicious sod, I mean it!”

I pulled her back towards me, and transferring my hands to the side of her shorts, I tugged them down. Whatever her feelings about external wear, Stevie did like feminine underclothes, and her pants were brief, and made of shiny red silk.

As her shorts dropped to her ankles I grasped her flailing right arm and deposited her back across my lap.

With her denim defences removed I could see that my spanking had begun to have an effect; there was a hesitant pink glow in her cheeks where they peeped out from under her knickers.

Well, it was time to conclude my bargain with Mr Pettifer. I seized her pants, and, with one smooth pull, they reluctantly departed her bottom, and slid down smooth flesh.

No! NO! Don't you dare....”

Her cries came too late. My right hand rose to shoulder height, and then descended very promptly to thwack against the sit spot on her right buttock.

Stevie uttered a banshee howl of despair, shock and sudden pain; at least it had quietened her protests.

I repeated the caress, on her left side. This time her body lifted slightly as my hand rebounded. Even against the already pinked flesh my handprint stood out.

The banshee spoke once more; I gave it further opportunities to fly free as my hand spanked repeatedly against her defenceless bottom. On my lap Stevie bucked, back and forth, and up and down, as the screaming spirit shot from her mouth again and again.

I paused for a moment, and, reflectively, I rubbed my palm against the abused flesh. Pinkness had been overcome by a fiery red glow, and I could feel it's heat against my hand.

Stevie lay still, body marooned across my lap. A small sigh, perhaps of relief, tripped from her mouth, as I gently smoothed the skin on her glowing backside.

I nearly stopped there, but I had promised to deliver a memorable spanking, and I hoped that one really good punishment might be enough to improve Stevie's ways.

I lifted my hand, and saw an instant increase in tension across her bottom. Idly, I examined the palm of my hand; whilst not nearly as red as Stevie's cheeks it had taken on a pinkish hue, and rubbing the thumb of my left hand across it, I noticed that it was a little tender.

I suppose that all of that exercise, up trees and across meadows, and bouncing around on her mighty motorcycle, has toughened Stevie's bottom up.

With no further warning I slanted my angle of attack, to strike home across the very base of her right cheek. I reawoke the haunting spirit, and it gambolled from her mouth. As usual, I made a similar assault on the other side of her behind.

I kept up a barrage, varying my target with each smack, painting Stevie's bottom in a pallet it had never previously seen. Soon it glowed like a rich deep sunset, beautiful across the Navajo Desert, and Stevie's echoing cries had become periodic gasps.

Reaching my left hand out, to brush yellow hair away from her face, I felt the rivulets of tears, tracing a grimy path down, to fall from her chin onto the sofa.

Stevie turned her face, and uttered one quite heart rending sob. Her face dropped onto the arm of the sofa, and her body shook.

Tenderly I pulled her pants back up; chameleon like they merged with the glow from her bottom. Stevie winced as the thin material fell onto bruised flesh.

I lifted Stevie onto her feet, remaining sitting as I did so. She looked down at me, shook her head to send tears flying in all directions, and hissed three bitter words.

I hate you.” There was no venom, no anger, no raising of her voice. Just a simple statement. With one further sob she turned, and fled from the room towards the stairs.

Sinking back into the sofa I looked again at my right hand. Had it really just done so much damage to the woman that I loved? Suddenly that bullshit about “this will hurt me more than it does you” made total sense; Stevie's bottom was certainly sore, but I was sure that my spirit hurt more.

Spanking was supposed to be a turn on, for some. I just felt disgust, a little nauseous and, as I stood, my legs shook with expelled tension.

Oh, God, I needed a drink.

I walked over to the sideboard, and picked up a heavy whisky tumbler. It had been a present from Veronica, and it was one of the few material things that I honestly treasured.

I reached for the Aberlour A'bunadh, rich, dark and 60% alcohol; a fitting drink in which to drown one's sorrows. As I popped out the stopper I realised that it needed a little water, to cut it's strength, and I liked to use chilled still mineral water to do so.

I set out for the kitchen, the fridge my destination. We had a huge American style fridge, and I opened the right hand door, stooping to reach for a bottle of water from near it's base.

As I straightened up I felt a body press against my back, and a feminine hand, devoid of nail varnish, reached around and grasped my penis through my thin cotton trousers. The hand gently moved up and down, as I grew hard.

Stevie's voice was quiet and small, as she pulled herself more firmly into me.

I love you.”

I turned, an operation that was made much more difficult by her hand on my dick, and a grip that she refused to relinquish.

Oh Stevie, I love you too.”

I hugged her, as hard as I could, her arm still grasping it's prize, trapped between our bodies. We stood, together, for several minutes, breathing as one, and eyes closed.

Occasionally one of us would declare our love again, always echoed by the other. My hand carefully caressed her bottom, still covered only by red satin. I gently rubbed, to take away the sting I had so recently imparted.

Finally Stevie drew back slightly; looking up at me she smiled, bravely, and she gave a slightly harder tug on my now extremely firm erection.

Let's go to bed.” she said, and so we did.


THE END

This Year's Model - Bianca Rose

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If this is Tuesday then this must be a bonus post! Just because I adore you all so much, and you do keep turning up here for our regularly scheduled bits of spanking fun.

Why have I called you all here at this time? Glad you asked. I'd like to introduce you to my new favourite spankee, the stunning redheaded Bianca Rose.

I have a real weakness for red headed ladies; I went so far as to marry one, back in the dim and distant past, and we're still happily together, nearly 30 years later.

Bianca is particularly stunning; slim and with sharp features, and, most importantly, a nicely rounded bottom that, as with most redheads, goes red very, very quickly when spanked.

If you need proof of this last assertion, beyond the pictures that I've so generously provided, and you're in the UK, you could try visiting the crimson haired Tara Red, a wonderful spanking lady. The link is to her Spankeefinder page.

Back to Bianca; as far as I can tell she is currently exclusive to Punished Brats, and you can forgive them wanting to keep her to themselves; she is stunning, and she wriggles and cries out delightfully when spanked.

She can also give a decent spanking, as Audrey can confirm; of course, the pictures I've added confirm it too!

Her scenes are often more of an erotic than disciplinary type (although there are some lovely mother/daughter scenes too) and she has a splendid playful nature. I especially enjoy the way that she interacts with Audrey, in the spanking contest series.

I'm not sure whether it's just that Bianca pushes several of my kinky buttons, but I find her to be an especially lovely young lady, who I'm happy to see being spanked any time at all. Of course, I'm basically happy to see any female (of adult age) being spanked, so perhaps this is damning with faint praise.

In any case, I hope to see many more films of the divine Miss Bianca Rose on Punished Brats; they really have a stable of particularly attractive spankees at the present (I also particularly like Audrey and Joelle).

For now I invite you to sit back and celebrate a new spanking superstar; Bianca Rose, ladies and gentlemen.


As a schoolgirl over Mon's knee
Leaving her lover, the wonderful Joelle
I've looked at Bianca from both sides now
Starting to go red
Two lovely ladies
Now this end is red too!
Playing with Audrey
Audrey wields the strap
Bianca looks lovely in jeans too
Let's just have another look without them
Looking long and delicious
Red bottomed girls, you make my rockin' world go 'round
Jeez, her Mom's strict!
Hey, Bianca spanks!
By hand too
Just looking lovely
Well, yeah, from this angle too
What a way to finish; red hair, red bottom, and Audrey.

Are you still here? Go home; show's over. That's all we have until, well, tomorrow.

All the best

Tim

All pictures are my slightly crappy screen grabs, taken from far clearer Punished Brats films; take a look at them, 'cos they're still the best value site out there. And their films are great too!


OTK Spankings - Triple AAA Spanking

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If this is Wednesday then I suppose you might be expecting a new entry in the OTK files series.

Well, you know me, I love to pander to my readers desires (that sounds far filthier than I meant it to)  so I've delved into the depths of my hard drive and I am pleased to present a series of lovely over the knee spanking screen captures from my mate John's splendid Triple AAA Spanking site.

Of course, thanks to the recent shitty legislation the site has had to relocate abroad, a process made easier for John as he has Sarah Gregory as his sweetie, and he's simply shifted ownership to her, so he can maintain UK citizenship.

I like his site a lot, in part because now it has a lovely mix of UK and US models, as he shoots in both countries.

Check out his site, at the link above, and also it's well worth a squint at his blog, which does a good job of rounding up spanking releases, and is now home to the annual spanking awards. You can find his blog here.

Now then, sit back and relax while I provide fodder for your spanking appetite, full of delight and OTK beauties.


John spanks Maddy (guest appearance from Alex Reynolds)
Alex couldn't resist coming back, and look what happened!
Ah, spanking at it's finest - AJR OTK from AAA
Alright ,  I can't remember who this American girl is. Any ideas?
Paul Kennedy spanks Pandora Blake - did you recognise them?
Same film, different bottom - Leia's turn
The heavenly Erica Scott - finest semi-pro bottom around
And a closer shot, just 'cos I wanna (John is a lucky bastard isn't he?)
Leia and Paul again; it's a very fine combination
John and, I think, Jasmine. Lovely bottom, nicely coloured
John and the wonderful Joelle Baros - damn, he's a luckier bastard than I thought!
Paul and the great Jean Bradley - hmm, I must do a Top Stuff about her soon


Oh, my favourite Dutch spankee, the stunning Leandra (although it's hard to tell through all that hair)
Zoe Page (an exception that proves the rule), with someone I can't quite identify, in a different OTK position
Amelia once more (one is never enough, is it?) - I love this angle
Two favourites - red pants and Kami Robertson

And, sadly, with this picture we come to the end of this post. As usual any blurriness is down to my image capturing - Triple AAA's films all look lovely, and , for my money, are some of the cleanest HD films around. Gorgeous, every last one of them.

If you like these stills, just imagine how much fun you can have with the actual films! Please check out Triple AAA Spanking, for lots of lovely spanking films, with all of these girls and many more.

All the best

Tim


Top Stuff - Miss Aleesha Fox

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I'm honestly not sure if you can call Aleesha a top as such; I suspect that there are probably at least as many films out there in which she gets spanked as ones in which she administers the punishment.

I don't really care; this post has an ulterior motive. Good Lord, that sounds sinister!

Let me explain; I've just learned this week that Aleesha has definitely retired from the professional spanking scene. I thought she had; we were talking about an interview for the blog when we fell out of contact, and she had been gradually withdrawing from the scene for a while.

I understand that she and her bloke have moved up North, and settled down happily, and I'm sure that you all will join me in wishing her all of the best for a very happy life. Even if I'm gutted to never end up over her knee.

Or with her over mine. It nearly happened; she was at a spanking party Dani asked me to attend, but which health issues kept me away from. What a sod, eh?

Anyway, Aleesha is gorgeous; she looks scary as a spanker, and has a wonderful full and round bottom, perfect for a good spanking; as you know I tend towards the spanker mostly, so Top Stuff, in this instance anyway, could be misleading. 

Still, I'm sure that you'll enjoy all of these lovely pictures of the lovely Aleesha. And, honestly, if you don't, I know I enjoyed finding and posting them!


With Zoe Page. from Triple A Spanking
Aleesha spanks, from Spanked in Uniform
Aleesha's splendid bum - Spanked in Uniform
Having fun with the cane, from Firm Hand Spanking
Firm Hand again, and a hairbrush this time
Maid for spanking, from English Spankers
Sarah spanks Aleesha, from English Spankers again
Aleesha spanks some lucky bloke (Peter actually, from Yes, Ma'am)
Katie spanks Aleesha, on The Lazy Maid
Just having fun - love that smile
Spanked by Katie again
Aleesha spanks Leia (dressed as a boy!)
Aleesha paddles Leia (bonus - Alice Appleby spanks Caroline Grey)


One last schoolgirl spanking for our star

And that's the end, folks. Sorry, that wasn't really a very toppy load of stuff, was it? More a sneaky kind of "Why I Like Aleesha Fox"; I should have just called it that.

Anyway, farewell to our spanky pal. Have a good life, Aleesha.

All the best

Tim

Sources for the pictures this time were (in order of presentation):-
Yes Ma'am
Triple A Spanking
Spanked in Uniform
Firm Hand Spanking
English Spankers
Northern Spanking
The Lazy Maid


Lots of lovely films there; they're all worth checking out. 


Video of the Week - Messin' About in the Principal's Office (Firm Hand Spanking)

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If you turn up here on a regular basis (and if you do, many thanks for your support) you'll probably have noticed that I have a routine for my posts at the moment.

I'll summarize, shall I? Just in case you're blonde (joking, honest!)

Monday - a new story
Tuesday - nothing, unless I have something unusual
Wednesday - OTK Files
Thursday - Top Stuff
Friday - Video of the Week
Weekends will usually be free from my posts.

The feature that seems to be most popular (aside from stuff that gets Chrossed) is the Video of the Week. That's almost certainly down to my impeccable taste, and spectacularly good selection of delightful films to share with you.

I'm sure that's it. Otherwise it would have to be the pretty pictures, and I know that no one is here for them. 

Hmmm.

This week's video selection is from Firm Hand Spanking, and stars the wonderful duo of Jennifer Torrance and Tanya Carter. I've called it "Messin' About in the Principal's Office" because FHS don't give names to individual films; in fact this one is two films that follow on from each other, and that they list as CGD BJ and CGD BK.

The plot revolves around our two lovely lasses turning up at the principal's office, only to find that he isn't there. They look around a bit, searching his jacket and desk, where they find his punishment book.

This, and the presence of a large table tennis style paddle inspires them to play around a bit. Tanya does a frankly deadly impression of the principal, and puts Jennifer over her knee for a spanking with her hand over her panties. They come down soon, and after a few more with the hand, the paddle comes into play.

Jennifer has a truly epic backside, and the film is worth while just to watch it bounce as Tanya gets more serious with her spanks. She finishes up by administering a few whacks with Jennifer bent over the desk, after which we are able to watch, mouthes open with awe, as Jennifer tries to rub away the sting.

Naturally enough, Jennifer wants some payback, and so, leggings and shirt removed, Tanya finds herself across her friend's knee, as her hand falls onto another splendid bottom.

Pants come down again, and then the paddle swings into action, initially whilst Tanya remains over Jennifer's knee, but then as she too is bent over the desk.

Punishment administered, she stands and dresses. She's just in time; the principal returns, and lectures the two young ladies.

It's a simple enough story, which works primarily because of the interaction of the two young actresses; they mug for the camera, they provide intentionally poor impressions of their principal, and they are clearly having a great time. The fact that they both have particularly fine bottoms doesn't hurt either.

If you want to see your spankees wriggling around in agony then this film won't do it for you. The spankings are pretty mild, but it is really good fun.

Remember the title of this blog? A spanking good time? Yep, that's what these two linked films provide.

So, here are a hell of a lot of pictures, illustrating our story; please enjoy them, and remember, the films that they come from are even better, so please give some thought to checking them out on Firm Hand Spanking - you know it makes sense.

Which is more than I do, most of the time.

Let the pictures begin!


Wot, no principal?
Tut, tut. Naughty girls!
Hey, what's this?
Have paddle, will spank
You want to spank me?
Over goes Jennifer
This will hurt, young lady!
A hand spanking first, I think
Tanya's quite enthusiastic
Knickers down
If you bare it, they will spank
It's paddle time!
Ouch! Not the most original thought, I know
Over the desk time
Whack!
Well worth rubbing
Not my turn, surely?
An appropriate position
First the lecture...
And then the spanking
The spanking goes on (of course)
Picture of the week, do you think?
Spanking the other cheek
Not sure this is as much fun as I imagined
Of course Tanya gets paddled too
Handily placed over the desk
That paddle is a nice size, isn't it?
A whack in close up
Great expression
Oops! Did you hear him come in?
A lecture from the principal

Wow. That took a long while to upload; I may have over done the pictures, just a tad. Still, there are a lot of very nice images there, as I hope you'll agree.

Check out Firm Hand Spanking for the actual films, why don't you, old chap?

All the best

Tim

A brand new story - The Reunion

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Well, it's a lovely cold morning here in the UK, but don't worry - I have a sizzling hot new spanking story to warm the cockles of your heart, and perhaps one or two other places as well.

This story is, well, let's say semi-autobiographical. Some bits of it happened, with only the names being changed to protect the....well, innocent might be pushing it a bit.

Of course, much of it is pure fantasy from the fetid pits of my kinky mind; oh, but it's a wonderful place to be when the creative juices get to bubbling away.

Next week's story if about half written; it's set in the 1960's, and I'm having lots of fun with it. So hurry back again next time around. For now though, please enjoy this story.

All the best

Tim

A Reunion

Hera, my mother-in-law's beautiful Belgian Shepard, pulled at her leash, and set off at another tangent across the wide grass verge.

She was a powerfully built dog, a bit smaller than an alsatian, with similar looks but shaggier fur, and following the path of least resistance seemed the best option. She darted around, nose pushed deep into the overlong fronds, her tail wagging furiously, as I let her lead me.

She snorted her way past one spot, and then suddenly zigzagged back to it. After one final sniff it apparently met with her approval, as she turned, and squatted. Finding the correct spot to use as her toilet was important to Hera.

She did her business in an unhurried manner, then rose and walked a couple of paces away, before sitting down, front legs straight and her back making a perfect diagonal. Hera was experienced, and knew what came next.

I took a small clear plastic bag from my jacket pocket, and carefully surrounded the steaming smelly pile; lifting the bag to allow it's contents to slide down I quickly fastened off it's top. Attached to a nearby lamppost was a designated “doggie bin”, and into it went the finished masterpiece.

Civic duty completed, I gently encouraged Hera to explore more of the grass, in the general direction of home.

Traffic whizzed by on the busy main road, the occasional motorcycle arousing Hera's wrath, in a sudden tirade of gutteral cries. It paid to be aware of what traffic was coming, as each explosion of barks was accompanied by a dart towards the offender; a firm hand and a shortened leash was needed, and it was helpful to set your feet firmly too.

In this manner we wandered back along the verge, sidestepping the occasional reminders that not all dog owners were as conscientious in their observances.

We had been strolling back for around 10 minutes when I saw a pair of figures in the distance; one tall and slim, wearing a longish brown coat over brown jeans and boots, and the other old and stiff, trudging along dutifully, and, now and then, stopping to sniff the odd area that bore investigation.

As they got nearer the human member of the duo proved to be a fairly attractive woman of around my age, with long straight blond hair, and slightly sharp aquiline features. The shorter member was an old terrier of some sort, round and rolling as he walked.

I shortened Hera's leash; she didn't often play well with other dogs, and she was easily twice the size of the newcomer. Pulling her over to my side and telling her to heel, I prepared to pass these interlopers.

“Excuse me, but is that Hera?” Her voice had a local tone, and was clear as a bell.

“Yes, it is”

“Sheila's Hera? I heard she was ill. How is she?”

“She's not to bad, thanks. Waiting to go into hospital for an operation on her bowel; there's some sort of blockage.”

“That sounds horrid! Please, you will give her my best wishes, won't you?”

I nodded that I would, and prepared to continue our mission; names weren't necessary, a description of the dog would tell Sheila who her well wisher was.

“Erm, are you Tim Waugh?”

Startled, I turned to face her once more; I was not usually notorious enough to be recognised in the street.

“Well, yes, I am.”

“Ah, I heard that you'd married Sheila's daughter. I didn't know if you were still together.”

“Oh yes, 15 years now.”

“Don't you remember me?”

I peered at her; I've always been lousy at faces, but the hair looked somehow familiar, as did her build. It was no good; I shook my head. I couldn't dredge up a name at all.

“I'm Janelle Monty, from The Manor.”

Bloody Hell! Now I remembered her, from my senior school, and, in particular, from the Sixth Form. I'd always liked Jan, although I found her religious beliefs to be a bit intense. As I recalled, she had worshipped three things; the Lord, Cliff Richard and the Albion, at whose matches I would sometimes see her.

“Well, hello Jan! Wow, you've changed. You've filled out a bit; it really suits you.”

When we were 17 or so Janelle had been painfully thin; I remembered her at a Sixth Form party, in a very short pink dress, rubbing her bottom against me, and thinking it was the only bit of her with any flesh on it.

Now that we were reacquainted it seemed reasonable to look her up and down; I hadn't been wrong, she really did look much better now. Idly I wondered what her bottom might look like in her jeans; at close quarters I could see that they were quite snug.

“I was just about to head home; I live over in Acacia Avenue. The old boy can't take a long walk any more. Do you wanna walk with me?”

“Yes, of course. I'm glad of the company; Hera's a lovely dog but I do find that I talk to her as we walk, and she rarely keeps up her end of the conversation. How old is he?”

“Fourteen. He's a real old timer; I got him when I split up from my husband, and I'll be devastated to lose him. Mind you, he's costing me a fortune; he keeps eating stuff he shouldn't, and he's had to have three operations to get things out.”

As we walked we exchanged information; I was a self employed web designer, and she was a specialist baker. She had gotten married just out of school, and it had lasted barely five years, before he left her.

She lived alone in a small house that was entirely her own, bought with some money left to her by her mother when she passed away, soon after Jan's marriage had formally ended.

Her business was successful, and she still attended football matches at The Hawthorns, although musically she had (thankfully) moved on from Cliff. I chose not to ask about her relationship with the Lord.

“Do you still see any of them from the Sixth Form?” Whilst I had been at school with Jan for seven years in total, it was only really in the Sixth that we hit it off. It was only then that I actually started to enjoy school.

“Well, I see the two Julies sometimes.” These were two girls, both six feet tall, but totally different in every other way. One was spectacularly sporty, in particularly being a demon with a hockey stick, whilst the other was quiet and studious, and having no apparent interest in boys at all. “And Phil, 'cos he married Julie T, of course.”

“Yeah, I knew that. I still see Neil; he married a cousin of mine. And Paul Corbin, of course. Although he's gone odd.”

“He was always pretty odd. You were close with JC; what happened to him?”

“Dunno. We drifted apart. He came to my wedding, with Sonia. And I saw him occasionally on a Saturday, 'cos he kept working at Wednesbury Library, and I'd pop in to chat. But I haven't seen him for years.”

“Yeah. Sad. I miss the Sixth Form.”

“Me too. Best two years of my life, in some ways.”

“Hah! I remember that you enjoyed it. All that spanking!”

I blushed, and looked at the ground; it was whilst in the Sixth Form that my previously dormant interest in spanking had blossomed; so many girls, all willing to pop over my knee for a couple of dozen smacks.

Come to think of it, I wasn't the only one doing that. We had a very spanky Sixth Form.

I muttered my agreement, and changed the subject to our Head of Sixth Form, who had suddenly left teaching a couple of years after we finished at school, and taken over as club secretary at a local football team.

Time passed quickly as we chatted pleasantly, and soon we were approaching my mother-in-law's house.

“Are you living over here now?”

“For the time being. Until Sheila has had her op, and is well enough to look after herself.”

“Erm, well, would you like to pop in for coffee one morning? I only live five minutes from here. We could reminisce about the Sixth Form some more.”

This seemed harmless; I had enjoyed most of our chat, and Jan had always been good company.

“Yeah, I'd like that. How about tomorrow? Say, 11.00? I'll have walked Hera by then.”

“Fine. 11.00. I live at number 8; you know where the road is?”

“Just off the back of the shops? Yes, I do. I'll see you then.”

Jan continued on her way, and I walked up the drive to Sheila's back gate; she never used the front door. It creaked open as I pushed it, and Hera galloped off to check that all was well with her mistress.

….......................................

Lying in bed that night, I found it hard to settle. Somehow I just couldn't get comfortable, and my rolling around kept pulling the bedclothes off of my wife, who was getting increasingly annoyed.

Finally I decided that I wasn't quite tired enough to sleep, so it would be sensible to give it up as a bad job, for now. I always found sleep easier to come by after an hour of reading, or watching a DVD.

The house was quiet; Sheila was a deep sleeper, and, weakened by her illness, she tended to take herself off to bed quite early.

I sat on the comfortable leather settee in the living room, and opened my Kindle. Flicking it into life the Travis McGee novel that I had just started to reread snatched at my imagination.

I read for about 30 minutes, before encroaching tiredness made concentration difficult. As my head nodded, my mind took a jog down memory lane, and followed the signposts leading to my Sixth Form years.

I was in the Library, early one afternoon, with Jan and Julie T. I was trying to write an essay on Angel Clare's hypocrisy (we were studying Tess of the D'Urberville's), whilst the girls were just chatting, and occasionally trying to distract me.

Jan had on a powder blue blouse, and a loose blue checked skirt that hung to mid shin. In her hands she had a bottle of Typex correction fluid, and she kept tightening and then loosening its lid.

Bits of the conversation floated into my consciousness, but I was concentrating on finding a way to call Angel a wanker, without actually saying that he was a wanker. I vaguely heard Julie T daring Jan to do something, but I wasn't aware of what.

Inspiration struck me, and I started to write, the words flowing as though I was plucking them from the air. My right hand moved across the paper, as my left held the exercise book steady.

I was suddenly aware of a slight wet feeling on the back of my left hand; as I focussed on it I saw a white cross, in typex, had miraculously appeared. Looking around I saw the rather mundane source of the stigmata; Jan, laughing at her cleverness, was pushing the small brush back into the Typex bottle.

Seeing the unimpressed look on my face, Jan stood, and turning, started to run deeper into the library. I leapt to my feet, grabbing a twelve inch plastic ruler as I did so, and took off after her.

It wasn't much of a chase; I caught up with her at the end of a row of book shelves, within seconds. At the far end of the isle was a low window ledge, and I pushed Jan towards it.

“Right, young lady, you've been asking for this.” I sat sidewards, and pulled her over my lap. Lifting the ruler I gave her six whacks across her skirt, which had been pulled tight as she fell across me.

I let her up, and was a bit surprised that the look on her face seemed to say “Well, is that all I get?”

Jerking awake in the cold of the early morning hours, I found that the memory had aroused me. I also felt some gentle disappointment; that was the only time I ever spanked Jan, beyond the occasional playful swat. It seemed a shame somehow.

…........................................


The next morning was another cold but clear one, and I spent a bit longer walking Hera than I had intended.

Having returned her to Sheila, I set out for Janelle's. My breath painted a fog against the clear blue canvas of the chilly sky, and I felt that all was right with the world.

Just inside Acacia Avenue I found number eight. It had a neat, well cared for front garden, with a square lawn surrounded by flower beds filled with late autumn roses. The front of the house was well maintained too, with clean unmarked paintwork and freshly washed windows.

Jan clearly took a great deal of pride in her home.

I strode up the short path to the front door, and pressed the button for the bell. Inside the house it pinged it's thrice repeated note, and from behind the door came a suppressed giggle.

I took a step back, and the door swung open. Startled, I dived deep back into my dream of the previous night. Jan stood there in the same blue blouse and skirt I had remembered.

Seeing my reaction she laughed out loud, a deep chortle that shook her whole body and sent the twin streams of her hair dancing across her shoulders and chest. Unable to speak she beckoned me in, and backed away into the hall.

My head still swimming with surprise I followed her, pulling the door firmly shut behind me.

The hall was well decorated, and, at it's far end, opened into a very comfortable living room. Jan had collapsed into one large arm chair, and, legs drawn up before her, she rocked back and forth, huge giggling chuckles exploding from her.

I found a seat on the sofa across from her, and glared, in what I fondly imagined was a rather stern manner.

“Bloody Hell, Jan, you could have killed me!”

This prompted a further explosion of amusement.

“I wish I could still fit into my school clothes. They'd burst if I tried.”

This didn't help either, as clearly Jan retained a vivid imagination, and the mental picture set her off again.

Gradually she calmed down, and the ability to speak returned to her.

“Oh, Tim, your face was a picture. I've never actually seen someone's mouth fall open before. This skirt was a bit of a tight squeeze, but it was worth it. You were brilliant!”

“Honestly, you're still really slim, but you have filled out a bit. It does look good on you. The skirt too, if I'm honest.”

“Hey, you're a married man. Are you supposed to notice stuff like that?”

“I'm married, not a eunuch. You like really nice in those old clothes.”

“Ta. That makes it worth while too.”

Jan fetched coffee for us both, and settled back into her seat. I sampled the strong fresh brew with a satisfied sigh, and relaxed onto the comfortable cushions.

“So, why exactly did you decide to dress like that? Just to see my shocked expression, was it?”

“Umm, well, no, not exactly. Although I certainly enjoyed that.”

“Yeah, the laughter kind of gave that away!”

Jan chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it did a bit. But no, I said we'd reminisce, and, the clothes just seemed right. I got quite a thrill from putting them on; a bit like a naughty child, I suppose.”

“Oh, and you could be a naughty child, couldn't you?”

“Well, sometimes. I didn't get smacked all that often though. Hey! Do you remember when you spanked me with a ruler in the library?”

Wow. I was quite taken aback by that.

“Yeah, actually. Er, this sounds a bit creepy to say, but, well, I dreamed about it last night.”

“Did you really? I'm glad it made an impression.”

“Oh, Jan, you always made an impression on me.”

“You never asked me out though. I quite fancied you, most of the time.”

“Well, I might have, but I don't think we were ever single at the same time. Not for more than a day or two, anyway.”

“Nah, suppose not. It's a shame though.”

I nodded my agreement; what had passed was in the past, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

Jan bit her lip, and looked slightly embarrassed. She shook her head, and then straightened, as though a decision had been made.

“Tim, can I ask you something? It's a bit, well, awkward.”

I admit to being slightly concerned. Was I about to be propositioned? That would be beyond awkward.

“Er, you can ask. What is it?”

“Well, in the Sixth Form you were very keen on spanking. Are you still into that?”

It was my turn to look embarrassed.

“Oh, well, er, yes, I suppose so.”

“You suppose so? You're not very keen then, now?”

“Oh, yes, I am actually. But it's a bit hard to talk about. With someone I don't know that well.”

“But I'm an old friend! I knew you when, and all that. You can talk to me.”

“Yessss.” I drew the word out. “But I haven't seen you for years. The only people I normally talk to about spanking are, well, in the scene.”

“Oh, there's a scene?” Jan sounded delighted. “I wish I'd known that!”

“Well, why exactly?”

“My turn to be embarrassed. Again. The thing is, I've always been curious about being spanked.”

“But you got smacked as a child. You mentioned it.”

“Yeah, as a little child. I got a few whacks here and there. But not as a grown women. I mean, you spanked nearly all the girls in the Sixth, but I never ended up over your knee. I thought you didn't fancy me.”

“A lot of that came out of the Parties. I spanked lots of girls at them, and it sort of carried over into school sometimes. You never came to most of them.”

“No, I was in a different crowd.”

“Oh, the house parties were general invite; everyone welcome. You just turned up with some beer, or a bottle of wine.”

“Yes, I know that. But I had the Church, and, well, most of the parties seemed a bit too....oh shit, wanton or something. There were a few of us who never really went. Or only once or twice.”

I felt that we had lost the thread a little. Old times were all very well, but Jan was talking about spanking in the here and now. Or, at least, I thought that she was.

“Okay. Fair enough. Can we get back to the spanking thing?” Well, obviously I wanted to. It was my passion.

“Ah yes. Er, so I always wandered what a spanking would be like. And you never offered to give me one.”

“Well, even playing around they were sort of intended as punishment. So you didn't just offer to spank someone.”

“You even spanked Julie T! Why didn't you spank me?”

“How did you know about Jules? I never told anyone about that. I was afraid she'd hurt me if I did.”

“Julie told me, one drunken night after Brandon left. Er, my ex-husband, that is. She loved it; wanted you to do it again. She really fancied you, and just afterwards you started going out with Karen, and that was it for the rest of the Upper Sixth.”

“Huh. Wish I'd known she was into it. That was the longest spanking I ever gave anyone. Well, you know, until I met, erm, like minded adults.”

“No one else ever dared to try it on with her. They were terrified she'd ram a hockey stick up their arse. She loved that you dared to.”

“Um, right. Honestly, it still amazes me that I did. And I can't for the life of me remember how it happened. I mean, how I realised I could do it.”

“But you never spanked me! Honestly Tim, you're going to have to do something about that now.” I'd never heard Jan sound this assertive. This whole morning had taken a very curious turn.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to spank you?”

“God, are you dense? Why on Earth do you think I dressed up like I was at school? Give me a proper spanking!”

I rubbed my hand across my forehead. The room was quite warm, especially after the brisk air outside, but it certainly wasn't warm enough to explain the amount of sweat that I wiped away.

“Look, Jan, are you sure about this? Do you know what you're asking?”

“Well, I don't think I'm asking too much! It's just a bloody spanking! You did it all the time. For all I know, you still do.”

“Yeah, I did do it all the time. But that was playing around. A couple of dozen smacks over a girl's skirt. I'll happily do that, but it's not a proper spanking.”

This made Jan pause for a moment. She pursed her lips, and thoughtfully rubbed at the end of her nose, chasing an itch that wasn't really there.

“So, okay then, what would a proper spanking be?”

“Are you sure you really want to know? If you wanted what all those Sixth Form girls got, I'll happily do that for you.”

“I asked, didn't I? What do you mean by a proper spanking?”

Clearly Jan wouldn't be deterred. I stroked my chin, and gently tugged at a few of my short, neat beard hairs.

“Well, if you insist. A proper spanking would start over your skirt, for a couple of minutes maybe. Then I'd raise your skirt, and spank you over your pants. For about as long again.

“Then I'd pull your pants down, and spank you on your bare bottom until it was red and hot and stinging.

“Is that really what you want?”

Jan's soft brown eyes held my own. I was pleased to see that she wasn't leaping blindly into something, but I was also rather surprised that she hadn't rejected the idea out of hand.

“So, it would hurt?” The question came, quiet and serious. There was no trace of the laughing Jan from earlier.

“Spankings have to hurt. That's the point. And I like to spank properly.”

“It's be like I'd been a bad girl then.”

“If you like. I know ladies who like to be spanked just for the sensation. I also know some who come along with a list of sins that they want to be punished for. Everyone gets something different from it. Like everything else, I suppose.”

“Well, what do you get out of it?”

I laughed. “I wish I could tell you. I've always been into spanking, and I've never really known why.”

“Is it the pain? Are you a sadist?”

“Not really. Pain is a bit of it; like I said, punishments. It's certainly not the whole thing though. And, well, apart from where bottoms are concerned, I hate pain. Giving or receiving.”

“Oh, right. Would it hurt much?”

“I can't really tell you. Every one has different limits. My wife walked a mile on a broken ankle without complaining, but two dozens smacks on her bare bum and she's had enough. You'll never know unless you try.”

“So you think I ought to? Try?”

“No, no. I don't. It's not for me to say. What do you want to do?”

“I think I want to get spanked. Actually. Right here and now. I'm a big girl – I can take it. Please.”

I love to spank. Jan was clearly a willing sacrifice. It would have been churlish to refuse, in light of all that she had said.

“Okay then. You asked for it, and now you're going to get it.” I don't believe I've ever said that, and meant it.

Jan stood up, and shuffled towards me, as I positioned myself on the centre cushion of the sofa. Reaching up and taking her arm, I guided her to my right hand side, and then gently tugged her towards me, so that she gracefully subsided across my lap.

I love the sight of a girl across my knee, and the slightly too tight skirt really emphasised Jan's rather lovely bottom. Smiling secretly at my joy, I placed my left hand against the small of Jan's back, and rested my right hand lightly on her bottom.

She lay still; I couldn't escape the image of a petrified rabbit trapped in the twin beams of a car's headlights.

“Right Jan. Look, you can back out at any point. Now, even. Just let me know; if you say stop I'll assume that you mean it, that you're not just playing a role. Okay?”

She nodded, and, twisting, looked back over her left shoulder.

“Will it hurt a lot, Tim?”

“Oh, let's just say it'll hurt enough, shall we? Anyway, I'm going to begin now.”

I lifted my right hand, only a few inches, and watched as her buttocks tightened in anticipation. I waited, drawing out the moment a little, until that first knot of tension began to unravel. Then, with the force mainly driven by my wrist, I spanked my palm across the centre of her bottom.

Jan sucked in a long breath, but otherwise remained still and silent.

I whacked my hand back down five more times into the same area, not with any great force, but enough that I knew Jan would feel it.
Shifting my focus to the right side of her bottom, I spanked that buttock half a dozen times as well.

There's nothing wrong with patterns when you spank, so I painted the left buttock a similar number of times. Then I stopped, my hand resting where the last smack had fallen.

Jan looked back again. There was a strange look on her face; it was almost like triumph. Her eyes fixed on mine, and a smile split her face. She let out a long satisfied sigh, and then lay flat once more.

In all truth I had expected her to be happy with the spanking that she had received. Her acquiescence to a real spanking surprised me. It did not, however, prevent me from continuing.

The established pattern seemed to fit the bill, so I did it again, and again, and maybe 3 or 4 times after that. It seemed to provide as decent a spanking as I could give over Jan's skirt.

“So. Could you raise your hips a bit please? I need to pull your skirt up. Or have you had enough?”

“More please.” The words were certain, and confident, and she arched her back as she spoke, enabling me to wriggle her skirt up to her waist.

She wore cream coloured silk panties, that clung affectionately to her rear. They were most appealing, and the crimson glow from her cheeks stood out in stark contrast.

I placed my hand onto the exposed flesh of her right buttock, and savoured the warmth that rose to meet it. I gently rubbed my palm in a small circle, and I felt Jan stiffen, and then wriggle with delight.

Well, blow me down. It seemed that Jan was a spanko at heart.

Happier now that I was sure my blows were being received joyfully, I tattooed the surface of Jan's behind with a series of increasingly stern slaps. They brought the occasional gasp, or groan, or sigh from Jan, but when I slowed for a moment her back arched again, as her bottom seemed to seek out my hand,

Her panties were brief, and did little to protect her scarlet, steaming bottom, but the proprieties had to be observed, so, with a whisper of “Oh, you naughty girl” I hooked my thumbs in their sides, and slide them into her thighs.

Her scarlet cheeks were round and firm, and seemed to suck my hand into them, as I resumed my task, each eager spank resounding against naked flesh. My focus honed in on the rhythmic sounds of splat and smack, like the bass line of a good rocker.

I could feel the heat growing in my hand, and, as it was far more used to spanking than was it's target, a little concern for Jan crept into my mind. I had spanked her far more soundly than I meant to, and certainly she had endured a much longer punishment than it was reasonable to expect a novice to take.

I stopped spanking, and began to rub her bottom, with smooth gentle caresses. Jan's shoulders were loose, and relaxed, and her head lay on the sofa where it fell.

“Right, young lady, that'll be enough.”

For a moment Jan didn't react, but then her head lifted, and she shook the elegant blonde hair that fell across her shoulders.

“Oh. Really? Okay. Oh, that was lovely.”

I cocked my head to one side, and whistled.

“Um. I'm...glad you enjoyed it. Are you okay?”

“Oh yes, I'm wonderful. My bum tingles, and burns, and throbs. I've never felt so, oh....alive. Why doesn't every one want to do this? Idiots.”

Clearly I managed to unleash Jan's inner spanko. I'd never been so entertained by a chance meeting.

I helped Jan to find her feet; for a moment she was a little unsteady, as though she was experiencing a head rush. She swayed slightly, and placed a hand on my shoulder for balance.

Her expression was serene. I wasn't sure where she stood with the Lord now, but she was certainly a worshipper at the Church of Spanking.

“Can we do that again some time? Soon?” She almost crooned the words, a melody that I found to be most pleasant.

“Jan, anything for you.”


THE END

The OTK Spanking Files - Northern Spanking Part One

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I've been spending an awful lot of time with Northern Spankings masses of wonderful spanking films. When I downloaded them I set them in files marked with film names, but, generally, I prefer to list them by spankee, so I've been working away to do that.

Of course, this does mean that I actually have to, at the very least, look at each film.

It's a dirty job but someone has to do it. Well, they're on my hard drive so obviously I have to do it. You're all very welcome.

Several things strike me about them, in general:-

1. there are more light hearted films, or ones with a sense of humour, than you'll find anywhere else

2. the range of subjects, stories, lengths and topics is immense

3. there are a lot of models that I've never seen elsewhere, mixed in with all of our old favourites; features and body types for pretty much all tastes

4. there are tons and tons of films that feature multiple ladies being spanked. In fact I think more have 2 or more spankees than have 1.

I have described Northern Spanking as my favourite spanking site previously, and, despite the large number of excellent producers out there, I really do think that it is, for the volume and variety.

Anyway, after that unsolicited commercial for the site, here are a few of my amateurish screen grabs; really they don't begin to scratch the surface of the wonders that are on offer.

Please enjoy.


Starting with an old favourite - Amelia Jane Rutherford
And Amelia spanking Nikki Flynn - you don't see that every day
Sascha Harvey in one of my favourite films
Stephen Lewis spanks Zille Defou
The sadly retired but totally gorgeous Irelynn Logeen
Lucy spanks Lottie Kinsade - how have I never come across her before?
Lottie from another angle
Ah that's better - we can see her face this time
Amy Hunter - still a spanker but no longer a spankee
Ah, but Leia's still going strong
Another look at Leia, with Nick Nightingale
Andie Switch, um, switching
Nimue Allen spanked by Amy
Also retired (I think) - Miss Jean Bradley
Kami Robertson - another ex-spankee
Amy at it again, spanking Sarah Collins
Spanking Rosie Bottomley - best name ever
Our Australian pal, Zoe Montana
Sam Johnson - hey, I've spanked that bottom!
A better look at it, just to finish off.

All pictures are grabbed from Northern Spanking videos; I really can't recommend them highly enough.

All the best

Tim


Oh, to Hell with this Top Stuff; how about if we just talk about Andi Switch?

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Oh, I know I'm fickle. Sometimes I just change my mind entirely at the drop of a hat (not that I own a hat, mind!).

I started off the Top Stuff posts full of enthusiasm, but last week's, featuring the delightful Aleesha Fox, was more spanky than spanking. And that's just my confused way of saying that I found more pictures I liked of Aleesha on the receiving end than otherwise.

I did give some thought to starting the Switchy Files, 'cos that's what a lot of the Spanking Ladies I like best actually are, but it just seemed a bit artificial.

Really what I wanted was to post some pictures of whichever lady had caught my eye in any given week. Well, it's my blog, so if I can't do that, well, what's the point? So I'm gonna!

Andi Switch (or sometimes Andie, or even Abi) is one of a particular type of Spanking Lady that really appeals to me; the slightly more mature, but still very naughty, girl.

I'm an old fart meself, tha' knows (apologies to anyone actually from the North, which I plainly am not, in view of that butchered dialect) and, especially when I play, I generally prefer a partner within 10 years or so of my age.

It's not that I don't enjoy spanking younger women too, it's just that I like domestic role plays, and these seem more realistic to me if my playmate is of a generally appropriate age.

And there's just something fun in seeing an older lady being subject to a form of discipline most people outside of the scene would associate with children.

When a lady is switchy, especially in videos, older women tend to look more authoritative; I love scenes of them giving parental spankings.

All of which brings us to the lovely and now, I believe, sadly retired Andi Switch (hey, perhaps I should make this series the Retired Files!). She had been in the fetish scene for many years before she discovered the joys of CP, and, in common with a lot of our ladies, I think she joined as a spankee.

At one point she had her own website packed with spanking films, usually with Andi being the punisher.

After some time she hooked up with Northern Spanking and she made a number of lovely films with them, as both bottom and top. Delightfully she often undertook both roles within a single film, which is probably my favourite spanky thing ever (except for you Cherri, if you're reading this).

Apart from Northern Spanking Andi shot really only for her own site (although I have seen a Strictly English film of her with dark hair spanking her room mate), so all of these examples come from their stock of wonders.

Andi did also hold sessions on a one to one basis, although, so far as I can tell, only as a domme, not as a switch; she went by the name of Miss Switch, and I have also seen a film of her spanking a man in this guise (from our old friends in the Institute of Discipline stable). 

Anyway, on to the pretty pictures section of our post; please enjoy my screen grabs of the spectacular, stern and switchy, Andi.


Andi spanks Leia (well, someone may not know who they are)
Andi spanks Amy Hunter
Andi caned (this seemed to happen quite a bit)
Andi spanks Amy again (well, I would if I could)
School teacher Andi spanks
Andi and that cane again (I love this shot)
Forever caned in blue jeans
Absolutely the last shot of Andi being caned
Santa spanks Andi
A closer look at Andi's bottom
Andi's bottom, with Steve's hand in the way
Look, it really is Andi
Or perhaps you can tell more from this angle
Nice and toasty spanked
Yes, definitely worth a quick rub
And that, ladies, gentlemen, adult children of all ages (over 18 of course), is our show for today.

Please feel free to check out the actual films at Northern Spanking, and tomorrow I will be sharing another of my favourite spanking films with you, from another different producer.

I'll see you then.

All the best

Tim


Film of the Week - Revenge of the Geek (from Triple AAA Spanking)

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I must say how pleased I am that so many of you keep dropping in to see these Film of the Week posts; they're something of a win-win for me, as you like them, and I like writing them.

Actually I like rewatching the films in preparation for writing them, and slowly wandering through each video to select decent looking screen grabs but, either way, I have a lot of fun with them.

This week I want to direct your attention to a film from my good friend John Osborne, and his splendid Triple A Spanking site (yes, I know that legally it's now Sarah Gregory's site, but it'll always be John's to me).

The film in question, Revenge of the Geek, is fairly simple, so far as it's plot goes. John is a science fiction fan, and his girlfriend (played here by the delightful Kami Robertson) thinks he spends too much time watching his Star Trek DVDs.

Pushed too far she sells the discs (although not the cases, rather strangely), a fact John discovers one Friday evening.

As you can imagine, he's not too happy, and so over his knee goes Kami. Young Ms Robertson looks stunning in tight black jeans, but they quickly come down to reveal lovely red knickers. John finds that he rather enjoys this spanking lark, and decides that, from now on, until Kami gets new copies of his discs, he'll spend an hour every Friday night smacking Kami's bottom.

Personally I would have thought that daily spankings would be necessary, but then I never got to spank Kami when she did sessions as a spankee (bloody Hell, is there an epidemic of spankees becoming pure spankers?).

Anyway, ranting aside, I love this film. John is one of those male spankers I don't mind (I know that sounds like faint praise but it really isn't), and Kami has never looked better. I'm a bit of a geek myself, so I can sympathise with John's plight, and the spanking itself is just a classic OTK one - exactly what I like to see.

We get a couple of good angles, the placement of Kami over John's knee is perfect, and the punishment is firm rather than excessive. It's a film I can happily watch again and again, and this is made easier by the usual high production values Triple A employ.

As ever, please forgive any fuzziness in these pictures, which is a product of my poor screen grabbing, rather than anything in the film itself, which is lovely and clear, as you would expect.

So then, onto Revenge of the Geek - The Photostory.


Where have my discs gone?
Enter the babe (sorry, I've been reading too many noir novels)
"Do you know what happened to these?"
Well, of course she doesn't! Butter wouldn't melt....
Oh Kami, time to confess. AAArgh! She sold them!
Don't worry; John knows what to do
Over his knee she goes
First smack
At this point the commentary becomes superfluous
What do you mean? It was always superfluous?
That's pretty bloody rude, you know
I give you these lovely pictures to look at, and all I get is abuse!
Why don't you pick on someone your own size, eh?
Sorry to return to the actual post, but Kami does look lovely here
Time for those jeans to come down
Pleasantly pink under red knickers
Getting pinker - nice work, John
Nice work if you can get it, an' all
John finds he's starting to enjoy this
I'm not sure, but I don't think Kami is so keen
That's a really lovely pose though
Let's have a closer look at how Kami's bottom is doing
And how she feels about it
A last couple of spanks with panties up
And now they're down
How about a closer look just to make sure that they're down?
They look down from this end too
Good Lord these comments are becoming inane
Note from the editor - please ignore the last comment and focus on Kami's bum instead
Grin and bear it.
I think I may have used every word in the English language that relates to spanking
No, not in this post; I mean, in general
Anyway, last piccie - spanking concluded (until next Friday)
I must apologise if those comments became a bit banal as this post went on; I was concentrating on the pictures and somehow there didn't seem to be enough blood available to keep my brain functioning in a sensible manner.

I hope you enjoyed those pictures; I certainly did. In fact, I think I may have to bring the video up one more time, hit play and see what occurs. Ah, what a happy way for a spanko to spend a few idle but self satisfying minutes.

That sounds rather like a double entendre. 

If, like me, you find these images to be a sheer delight, you may wish to hurtle over to Triple A Spanking, so that you can check out the actual video. Should you do so, you'll also finds lots of other fantastic films for your spanky entertainment.

I'll see you next week (or is that too presumptuous of me?)

All the best

Tim

A Brand New Story - The Inappropriate Teacher

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Welcome in; it's cold and wet our there. And dark, but then it is 5.45 in the morning.

Anyway, these new stories are going pretty well, with 2 of them being Chrossed (thanks, mate), so here is another one, for your spanky reading pleasure.

This one is set in the 1960's, and features a young lady who makes a rather bad choice.

I hope that you enjoy it.

All the best

Tim

The Inappropriate Teacher

Alicia Page had lovely long, elegant legs, and she loved to show them off. She was 24 years old, a recently qualified English teacher, and had a bubbly personality that enhanced her round-cheeked good looks.

Alicia's one real fault was her vanity; one side of her wardrobe was full of short skirts, and high heels. Unfortunately the other side was filled with rather less flamboyant clothing, which the Head Teacher at Dylan Grammar School for Boys insisted were more suitable attire for her to wear when moulding young male minds.

Alicia chaffed against this restriction. Whilst she understood the importance of properly preparing her pupils for the future as, after all, the seventies were just around the corner, she just didn't see why the boys should be deprived of the sight of her legs at the same time.

Twice during her first few weeks at the school she had arrived in a skirt that barely reached down mid thigh, and, on each occasion, the Head had spotted her, and insisted that she return home to change into something more appropriate.

The Head was a great believer in ladies wearing skirts that dropped to mid calf at least, and no shorter. The younger staff members tended to refer to him as “the old fuddy duddy”.

Still, all was not lost. The Head had a busy career, and could often be found attending Head Teacher courses, seminars and the like. On those days the younger teachers took full advantage of the temporary freedoms granted to them.

Whilst it was usually general knowledge that the Head would be absent, Alicia had ensured she befriended his secretary, in order to get advance knowledge of any day on which she might be more flexible with her wardrobe.

One Friday in late May was such a day, and, as Alicia dressed in a very short brown suede skirt, she shivered in pleasant anticipation of what the day might hold.

The skirt barely covered the plain yellow panties that hugged her bottom, and her legs, jutting up from knee high leather boots, made her appear several inches taller than she in fact was.

Alicia carefully brushed her long auburn hair, as it lay against her yellow silk blouse, and then added the lightest layer of bright crimson lipstick. Standing back she cast an admiring look at the picture reflected back; surely no one would imagine that such a lovely modern young women were in fact a teacher at a boys school.

......................

Alicia's much loved red mini screeched to a halt in her allotted parking space, at Dylan Grammar School. She turned off the radio, silencing the driving riff of The Kinks' You Really Got Me, a tune which echoed in her head for a few moments.

Grabbing a clasp handbag she eased herself out of the small car, and slammed the door behind her. A short walk across the slightly bumpy asphalt took her to the outer door of the Staff Room.

Usually the Head would be standing guard at the picture window, ensuring that all of his staff were correctly prepared for the day. His absence made Alicia's heart dance.

She swept into the room, and nodded to it's only other inhabitant, a trim muscular figure dressed in blue canvas shorts and a tight t shirt.

Wotcha, Kev. How's things?”

Kevin, one of the School's P.E. Teachers, turned, and grinned his approval.

Wow. Nice legs. Nice knickers. The old sod's definitely out today then?”

Yep. Local council education standards meeting. He's chairing it, so it'll be all day.”

Lucky for you, my girl. Dress like that and, one of these days, you'll feel his stick across your arse.”

Alicia smiled archly. “His stick? What do you mean? Is that, like, a sex thing? You pervert.”

No, no! You know very well what I mean. You'll get the cane against your backside.”

Yeah, kinky old sod would probably like to do that. Make a change from caning all of those boy's bottoms.”

Well, you just mind it love. One of these days you'll push too far.”

Alicia waved off Kev's warning, and, with a fetching shrug, she left the staff room, bound for the usual room in which she taught her various classes.

................................

The morning had been largely uneventful, although she had noticed a multitude of admiring glances from the boys whilst she was attempting to open their minds to the joys of Jane Austen.

As she strolled between the desks she felt their eyes follow her, glued to the sway of her hips, and searching desperately for the occasional glimpse of yellow knicker, as she bent oh so slightly forward.

Alicia, if truth be told, was a bit of a tease.

Whilst she had thoroughly enjoyed the masculine attention Alicia did admit to herself that she was slightly disappointed things had not gone further. That changed in the last class before lunch.

Class 5 were a group of fifteen and sixteen year old lads, in the last months before they were to take their 'O'-levels. In common with most of their colleagues at the Grammar School they were expected to obtain grades 1 or 2, and so, even at this late stage, they were a quiet studious group.

As these were older boys Alicia felt she could afford to give them a little more of a show. She hitched her skirt a little higher, so that the peaks of her bottom cheeks popped out enticingly from below it's hem line, and then she began a slow walk around the room.

Having walked down one row, she passed the last desk at the back of the room, and began to walk up the next row towards the front of the class.

Suddenly there was a resounding slap, and Alicia felt a momentary sting across the seat of her pants. She smiled widely, and felt a tumble of tiny kittens dancing their dance of anticipation in the pit of her stomach.

Setting her lips firmly together, she whipped around, and grabbed the wrist of the offender; he had a sick grin on his face, and his cheeks were flushed red, with excitement and embarrassment.

Tony Taylor! What do you think you are doing?” Alicia's voice was loud, and carried around the room. A general hush fell; you could hear the pounding of Tony's heart in every corner, or so it seemed to Tony.

Tony tried unsuccessfully to reclaim his trapped limb. He shook his head, and his smile became rueful.

I'm sorry Miss. It was an accident.”

An accident? Did you fall out of your seat, and use my bottom to steady yourself?”

There was a widespread gasp. Tony Taylor had really smacked their teacher on her arse!

Tony just sat, his arm in her grasp, and continued to shake his head.

Well, boy? How was that an accident?”

Erm, I mean, I didn't mean to do it. It just happened.”

So your arm acted alone, did it? Like Oswald, I suppose? Not your fault at all then, eh?”

No Miss. I didn't....”

Tony's voice died away as Alicia used his imprisoned arm to drag him to his feet.

Right then, boy, come on.” She resumed her walk to the front of the room, now pulling the struggling boy behind her. At the front of the room was Miss Page's desk, and, behind that, the door to a small store cupboard.

Alicia marched past her desk, and opened the door of the store room. Reaching in she snapped on the light, and then she turned back to face her class.

Right. I shall be a few minutes. If I hear a thing from any of you, I will send you to Mr Rushton for a dose of his plimsoll. Is that clear?”

The class were well trained; their chorus of “Yes Miss” was ringing and prompt.

Alicia tugged Tony into the small room and slammed the door shut. On one wall was an array of shelving, bearing a number of novels and poetry collections, along with exercise books wrapped in clear plastic, a box of ball point pens and several rulers, of sundry vintages.

In the centre of the room was a wooden chair, straight backed and oddly threatening.

Right then, Taylor, you're for it now. How dare you slap a teacher!”

Oh, look, I am sorry Miss. I won't do it again.”

Too late. Actions have consequences. Consequences for your backside, young man.”

Tony had seen other young men dragged into the depths of Miss Page's dungeon, and had a fair idea of what was coming.

Alicia sat on the chair, her short skirt riding up to leave bare thighs parallel with it's seat. As she plonked herself inelegantly down there was the hint of yellow covered crotch. Tony felt something stir in his trousers.

Come here, boy.” Tony staggered towards his teacher, and then tried to step back as her hands grasped at the waistband of his grey uniform trousers. His jacket had stayed behind, on the back of his chair.

What are you...?” he spluttered, as the clasp separated and Miss Page's hands began to draw down his flies.

I am going to take down your trousers and give you a good spanking, young man!”

Bloody Hell! No, you're not!” This time he succeeded in pulling away, and, as his loosened trousers started to slide down his thighs he clutched at them.

I certainly am. Or would you prefer me to report your assault to the Head?”

Tony gulped. If he were referred to the Head the very least he could expect would be a very hard six with the cane. He could possibly get expelled, and with his exams being so close, that would be a disaster.

Alicia watched him carefully. Her threat was a hollow one; any report to the Head would certainly lead to him discovering her clothing choices for the day, and wilful disobedience could lead to her dismissal.

Deciding, Tony shook his head in surrender; his mop top danced in front of his eyes, which were starting to water as his desperate situation became clear.

Loosing his hold on his trousers he shuffled around to Miss Page's right hand side. His head dropped, his chin resting on his chest, and he mumbled into his shirt.

I'll take the spanking Miss.”

Good.” Alicia helped him into place across her lap. As an evil grin split her pretty face she reached for the waistband of his white y-fronts.

But for that show of defiance, I think bare bottomed in this case.” With a smooth practised yank she exposed his smooth youthful buttocks.

Miss!” Tony's protest proceeded no further, as his young teacher began to spank her hand firmly against his exposed flesh. This was not the first time she had taken one of her pupils to the storeroom for a spanking, and she delivered it with considerable force.

As she smacked she ensured that the whole surface of his bottom received an equal treatment; as she beat a rapid drumroll of slaps against his pale flesh she was pleased to see how quickly it changed colour, to pink, to red, to bright scarlet, and then a vaguely bruised purple.

By this time Tony was rocking away from each stinging spank, and his tears fell freely onto the dusty floor, creating little craters on the lunar surface of it's concrete.

Alicia gritted her teeth; she was having too much fun! It took an almost physical act of will to stop the next spank from falling, and she took in a deep breath. She surveyed her target, and gave a satisfied shrug.

Alicia pulled Tony's pants back up, to preserve his modesty, and helped the snivelling boy back onto his feet. She watched without comment as he reached down and grabbed his trousers. In a moment he was dressed once again.

Alicia regarded him sternly.

Now, we shall forget this how unpleasantness ever happened. As I dealt with the matter privately there's no need to enter it in the Punishment Book. So we'll say nothing more about it.”

Tony rubbed at his throbbing behind for a moment, and then he reached into his trouser pocket for a rather grimy handkerchief, which he used to wipe the salty moisture from his face. He nodded.

Miss Page led the chastened boy back into the remarkably quiet classroom, just as the bell for lunch clanged through the still corridors.

The boys gathered up their belongings, and charged for the door; nothing stood between growing boys and their food. Even Tony, still sniffing, hurried off to find sustenance.

Miss Alicia Page took a seat behind her desk, and hugged herself contentedly. Another one had fallen into her trap; she did so love having an excuse to smack their little bare bottoms!

......................................


Alicia found it easier to mark her pupils' work at school, rather than to take it home, so she could often be found sitting alone in her class room when six o'clock rolled around.

She had just finished scrawling red pen across the last exercise book, and she was tidying her desk prior to leaving for home when there was a knock on the solid wooden class room door. Alicia glanced up, startled. It was unusual for anybody else to be around that late.

Come in.” she called out, her brow a little furrowed as she awaited the solution to this minor mystery.

The door opened slightly, and a shiny bald head slid through the gap, tilted to one side so as to peer into the room. The head boasted strong even features, and glinting blue eyes. It's chin was fairly prominent, and covered with a thin layer of jet black hair.

Alicia took all of this in, and thought that the visage was quite attractive, if you liked older men. It's owner must have been around forty or so, positively ancient.

Excuse me.” The voice was surprisingly deep. “I'm looking for Miss Page.”

Oh, I'm Miss Page. Please come in.” The face frowned, but did as she had asked. The body to which it was attached was of average size, perhaps five foot seven or so, and wiry. It's torso was covered in a skin tight short sleeved shirt, and one arm boasted an anchor tattoo. Her visitor had clearly been in the merchant navy at some point.

You're Miss Page?” His voice dripped with disbelief, as his eyes walked up, down and around her frame. He shook his head in disgust.

Well, yes, is that a problem?”

Is that any way for a teacher to dress?” The visitor indicated her skirt. “I bet the boys can see your arse hanging out when you walk.”

How dare you! Just get out, now!”

Nope, not until I've had my say. I'm not surprised the poor little sods can't keep their hands to themselves. I'd have slapped your arse when I was sixteen if you'd paraded it in front of me like that.”

Well, you can just keep your bloody opinions to yourself, and sod off! Go on, get out!”

Look, love, do you know who I am?”

Well, you're not my love, for sure.”

My name's Bob Taylor.”

So? Are you someone important?”

You teach my son. Tony.” Alicia just stared at him, her anger having driven any memories of her pupils away totally. “You know, Tony Taylor?”

I'm sorry. So, what? Why are you here?”

Well, love, young Tony came home a bit upset this lunchtime.”

Don't call me 'Love'. And what has that got to do with me?”

He was in your last class before lunch, wasn't he?”

I suppose so. I still don't see....” and then she did see. Tony Taylor was the boy that she had spanked for slapping her bottom. Alicia felt the ground drop from beneath her feet; staring up from the floor of the pit that remained she couldn't see any way to claw her way back up to the surface.

Mr Taylor nodded in satisfaction.

You can place him now, love, can't you?”

Ah yes, well, I can.”

He says that you smacked his arse for him. His bare arse. Now, I don't mind kids getting a walloping when they deserve it, but these things need to be done proper.”

Erm, there were special circumstances.”

Oh, were there? There was a special reason why you had to take a sixteen year old boy into a private room? And then take his knickers down? And tan his bare arse?”

But you don't know what he did!”

He smacked your behind. Once. I can see why, an' all. Like I said, don't think I'd have resisted when I was his age.”

But, you see, he had to be punished. And if I sent him to the Head...”

Look, the lad did wrong, and he should take his lumps. If the Head welted his backside with his cane, well, fair enough. He did the crime, he has to take the tanning for it. That's as it should be; kids need to learn to control themselves.”

But....”

But you couldn't send him to the Head, could you? Not without explaining why he smacked you.”

But he deserved a good hiding!”

Happen he did. Though if you'd shown better sense he'd not have been tempted. Still, if you'd bent him over and tanned him with a slipper I'd not have objected.”

Alicia took a deep breath. Now that she knew Mr Taylor agreed his son deserved to be punished she felt that she was gaining ground in her scramble to escape. Time for the big push.

So, we won't say any more about it then. Thank you for calling in. I do like to see parents taking an interest.”

Mr Taylor's face went blank. He took two forceful steps forward and glared into Alicia's face; his breath smelt of minty toothpaste, with just the slightest hint of alcohol edging out from behind it.

Right, love, we won't say anymore about it. But that's not the end of it.”

What do you mean? I'm not sure what else you want me to say.”

Don't want you to say anything, love. But you smacked my lad for being naughty, and I'd say you'd been naughty an' all.”

Mr Taylor had continued his progress, and by this stage he had rounded Alicia's desk. He reached out and grasped her left wrist.

What are you on about? I'm an adult; I'm not naughty.”

Well, love, the Head don't like his teachers dressing like that, does he? And you're not allowed to take the kids trousers down, neither. Sounds like you been naughty to me.”

Alicia made gobbling noises, like a turkey chosen to be Christmas dinner that year, when the axe approaches.

So, I reckon a bit of a hiding might do you good, an' all.”

What are you....?” Alicia let out a furious whoop as Mr Taylor pushed her backwards, sat on her chair, and pulled her effortlessly across his lap.

Alicia lay, her yellow panties totally exposed, legs kicking at one end and arms flailing at the air. The chair was quite a high one, and balanced over My Taylor's legs she couldn't reach the ground on either side of him.

Just as Alicia tried to roll off his knee, Mr Taylor's left arm shot out, and encircled her trim waist. She felt the muscles move beneath his skin, as he trapped her in position. There was no escape.

Well, that skirt really is short, innit? Not too much to protect you bottom, is there love?” Mr Taylor bounced the palm of his hand off the tight yellow cotton, and Alicia yelped, mostly in surprise. She couldn't believe that this was happening.

You bastard! Let me up!”

Now love, is that any language for a young teacher to be using? Naughty, naughty.”

Mr Taylor's hand rose and fell, a dozen or so times, his muscular arm ensuring that each smack drew another yelp or squeal from Alicia.

Now, I reckon I should take your knickers down, to make things fair, like, but it wouldn't be right. I'm a married man; I can't be smacking strange women's bare arses.”

Whilst he spoke Mr Taylor had continued to buffet Alicia's bottom; there was just enough room within the angry parent's grasp for Alicia to shuffle from side to side as the stinging spanks rained down.

Still, them panties look pretty thin, so I don't guess they're doing a lot to save your pretty little bottom.” As he said this it struck Mr Taylor that his last observation had been a bit inappropriate itself. Clearly though it was Miss Page's fault, so he lay on the next few spanks just a bit harder.

Alicia howled; her Dad had spanked her a few times, over the years, but it had never hurt like this. Mr Taylor was remorseless, and inexhaustible.

Years at sea had strengthened his muscles, and toughened his skin, and his hand deepened the crimson blush of her bottom each time it fell. Mr Taylor ensured that it fell frequently.

Mr Taylor kept up a steady pace; the slap of his hand against Alicia's inflamed bottom was rhythmic, and regular. The room echoed to the twins sounds of flesh on flesh (Alicia's panties really were quite tiny), and the gasps, sighs, squeal and moans that every smack produced.

Feeling it a bit, are we love?” Alicia, even above the stinging pain in her bottom, could still hear the grin in his voice.

Mr Taylor was very pleased by the reception granted to the young teacher's punishment; the applause of his hand on her behind was most rewarding. He noticed that Alicia was now barely struggling against his grip, and that her movements away from each slap had lessened considerably.

Alicia's shoulders shook; there was no longer any resistance to the punishment, only tears as her bottom bruised under the assault.

Raising his arm a little higher, Mr Taylor concluded the lesson with a dozen especially hard spanks. He was quite pleased with these; he managed to get his shoulder into them, and a bit of flex into his wrist as his hand smacked home.

The result was instant. Even through her tears Alicia yelled and screamed.

Mr Taylor dropped his right arm to his side. His left one retained his grip on Alicia's waist; he didn't want her to roll onto the floor, and the last powerful spanks had set her body to jigging.

Now love, let that be a lesson to you. No more of those stupid short skirts around school, eh?”

Alicia was torn. She had always been quick to anger, and she hated to be ordered around. She bit back a bitter response. Her other emotion was fear that her punishment might be repeated. Or even resumed, here and now!

Not trusting her voice, Alicia nodded. Let the bastard make of that what he would.

Mr Taylor's left arm unclasped itself, and reaching around to support Alicia's shoulders, it tipped her back onto her feet. As her boots touched the ground, Alicia bounced onto her toes, and her hands clutched at her abused bottom.

She alternated grasping it, and rubbing it, as she danced in place. Her long legs made even this little jig look graceful. Her face was scrunched up in pain, with her eyes barely open, as fresh tears squeezed out.

Young Tony will tell me if you're naughty again, love, so I suggest you stick with proper skirts from now on. And no smacking the kids; send 'em off to the Head, or one of the P.E. Teachers if they need a good hiding.”

Alicia nodded again, this time with perhaps a little more conviction. Her hands, like sandpaper on battered flesh, continued to rub, and the first flush of the pain had started to abate.

Alicia's drive home was a painful experience. She loved her little mini, but it's suspension was rudimentary, and each bump in the road elicited a groan as her bottom bounced on the plastic car seat.

She entered her flat as tears, now of humiliation, sprang to her eyes. Angrily she swiped them away, and, reaching for a glass and the bottle of cheap whisky she kept for emergencies, she cursed Mr Taylor.

Alicia placed a large cushion in her favourite armchair, and eased her bottom onto it. She sniffed; it wouldn't have surprised her to smell burning as her throbbing flesh made it's nest in the soft material.

Alicia couldn't believe what had happened, what that bloody bastard man had done! She knew one thing though; she'd find some way to get his son back for the trouble that he had caused her. She was sure of that.

THE END


It's a good day to be me

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Oh, yes, honestly every day has it's pleasures; I have a comfortable home life, a loving family who all still talk to me (usually when I'm trying to watch the TV, but so what?), books, films and music to entertain me, a lovely bottle of Glenlivet Founders Reserve in the pantry (yes, and I have an actual pantry) and a spanking obsession that warms my cockles.

Today is especially good for two reasons though.

Yesterday I got to spend some time with my wonderful spanking sweetie, the glorious and gorgeous Cherri. It was just 90 minutes or so, but on a cold and wet Monday afternoon it cheered us both.

I got a good sound spanking on arrival, with Cherri wearing my favourite jodphurs. If you've been around here much you'll know I adore women in jods, and Cherri fills her's out wonderfully. We managed to wear out one pair that she'd had for years, and these new ones are very traditional and spanky.

After my bottom was glowing I gave Cherri her birthday hug, and a good birthday spanking. I lost count at one point, and Cherri insisted I had to start again from the beginning. The only sensible course really. 

Under her jods Cherri was wearing shiny black silky pants; another of my favourite things. I had nearly emailed her asking for these, but fate, and our similar thought processes, brought them anyway.

After a cup of tea and a chat we did a long role play, where Cherri was my horse mad wife. I had walked through the stables, and noticed we seemed to have gained a couple of horses.

When confronted Cherri initially denied the whole thing, and then said she was looking after them for a friend. Whose name she kept changing.

Over my knee she went, while we continued the conversation. After admitting to buying the horses, which she said were cheap at £5000, she also admitted to using the money we'd put aside to rebuild the conservatory to purchase them.

I spanked her in jods, panties and bare bottomed, before adding a leather paddle, a slipper, her riding crop and a table tennis bat. There may have been a couple of other things too.

This went on for some time, as you might imagine, before Cherri turned the whole thing around, angry at my jokes about using the horses for cat food, and spanked me again.

To finish out we played with a few implements (well, I did, with the eager aid of Cherri's bottom), before Cherri decided that she needed her birthday spanking again. A couple of times, finishing with a run through on her bare and rather red bottom.

I was ready to head for home, but Cherri felt that, as I'd given her so many birthday spankings, she should give me one. Or two. Or three, actually.

I've played with Cherri on near enough twenty occasions now, and this was just so relaxed and easy; great fun, great company, great spanking and a decent, strong cup of tea.

I don't normally talk about Cherri on here, as I don't want to share her, but I felt so carefree after yesterday that I couldn't resist trying to give you a flavour of my time with her.

If you're in the area, and feel moved to visit her yourself, details can be found at Spankeefinder. You can tell her Tim sent you!

So I was still feeling pretty good when I got up this morning (White rabbits!) and checked my email. In my inbox I found a new notification of a comment, on last week's highlighted video, from one of it's stars, the great John Osbourne.

Just hearing from him would have been a buzz of itself, but he also told me that this blog (Yes, this one here!) has been nominated for Best Creative Blog in the annual spanking awards that are hosted on his blog (which you should really check out, although I imagine many of you do already).

I'm particularly pleased to be nominated because it never occurred to me that I would be; this is totally out of the blue. And, to anyone who did nominate me, I offer my sincere thanks.

The list of nominated blogs is really impressive, and includes several of my favourites. I honestly feel honoured to be included with them (and I never usually believe it when people say that, but it's true).

These annual awards are great fun, and a brilliant way of promoting the various corners of our Spanking Universe, so please have a look at John's blog, and vote in the various categories as they become available. I won't be offended if you decide to vote for my blog, of course.

So, with a song in my heart (admittedly it's Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, which has some pretty grim subject matter, but it is a favourite of mine) I shall float off into the day, untouched by rain, and glowing with a happy inner warmth.

And tomorrow, I will return to our regularly scheduled posts.

All the best

Tim

The handful of pictures scattered around are of my spanky pal Cherri

The OTK Files - Real Life Spanking Part 1

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Well, it's that time of the week again; OTK spanking time, for all of you aficionados of fine over the knee spanking action.

Surely that's everyone? Well, every spanky one anyway.

This time our visit to the depth of my hard drive leads us to Holland's premier spanking site - the wonderful Real Life Spankings. As you probably know this site is one of three run by Mike the Dutchman, along with Spanked in Uniform and Bars and Stripes.

This is the simplest of the sites, in that each clip features a naughty girl (or sometimes two) in a real life situation; their sins are listed and they are spanked, as simple as that. 

On paper this sounds a bit repetitive, but it really isn't. For one thing Mike manages to find a continual stream of wonderful ladies to spank. They are all lovely, and you can find pretty much any body type or hue of skin. The majority of these girls don't turn up anywhere else, but most of them visit Mike time after time.

This may be a strange thing to say, but Mike is a genial spanker; whilst he can be strict when it's needed, he comes across as chatty, and interested in the girls. He seems like the kind of guy who'd buy you a pint, and who you'd enjoy drinking it with.

Anyway, whilst Mike uses a variety of implements, and any number of things to bend the girls over, his knee also features frequently. I think we should probably have a look at a few examples of his work, don't you?

Here then, presented in alphabetical order ('cos that's the way I saved them as I made the screen captures) are a bevy of lovely ladies over Mike's knee, getting well deserved spankings.


Alice
Alicia (just to cause as much confusion as possible)
Amy
Cindy
For some variety, Danielle spanks Monique
Dani carries on spanking (hey, that would have been a good Carry On film)
Monique gets her own back
At some length (I love this film)
Dani gets it from Mike
Emily
Julie (no, she's not really headless)
Kiara
The most gorgeous Dutch spankee ever - Leandra
She looks lovely from this end too
But let's concentrate on the business end
Liesje
Natalia
Natalie
Nina
Paula
Sammie - my second favourite RLS girl, and the cheekiest girl in Europe
Sammie again - and her bottom is only part of the reason that I adore her
Simpa
Stacy
Vanessa
Zelda
Well, that's enough for one post; I don't want to drive your spanky juices to boiling point. 

This selection only hints at the number of wonderful and well spanked girls that are featured on Real Life Spankings; each of these girls, and many more, can be seen in multiple films. At present I believe that there are around 1400 films available for download.

I love the simplicity of the site, and I just love the whole atmosphere that Mike creates. Why not check out RLS; it's very well worth your time and money.

All the best

Tim

Oh, let's just call it, why I like.....Lottie Kinsade

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You! Standing at the back, with your hands in your pockets. No, no, don't look away. I'm talking to you.

How long have you been coming here? Are you an old time fan, or someone who has found my spanking happy place quite recently?


It doesn't matter which you are; all are equally welcome. It's just that the title of this post will make more sense if you've been around for a while. Or read through my archives, I suppose.

Anyway, Top Stuff has been retired, for the time being at least, to be replaced by the much missed (by me anyway) Why I Like series; it's more inclusive, and I can talk about tops, bottoms, switches or Appalachian sheep herders, as I see fit.

Let's start with a lady I'm far too late to find, the lovely Lottie Kinsade.

I recently discovered her when cataloging Northern Spanking films, but she was a fixture there for some years, starting in 2009. She also appeared in a number of the early episodes on Spanked in Uniform, our good friend Mike the Dutchman's second site.

What do I know about her? Not masses, in all honesty. She clearly loved spanking, and was involved in sessioning. She wrote spanking stories, and you can still find some of them posted on her story blog .

So far as I can tell Lottie retired from spanking activities (at least in public) in 2013, when she found that she was pregnant. She had more or less retired once before this, but that time she found her way back to us.

Lottie has cool blonde Germanic good looks, and is a nice actress, with a lovely bottom. I'm not sure that anything else is required really. She has a quality that I find very attractive, without actually knowing what it is.

Anyway, she has left us a legacy of around 40 spanking films on the two sites (if anyone knows of any other sites that she appeared on please let me know), so here are some screen captures from Spanked in Uniform, and a few shots from her galleries on Northern Spanking. All of the films on both sites are worth checking out.

Ladies, gentlemen and alpaca herders, please sit back, relax and enjoy the Lottie Kinsade Picture Show.




Mike spanks Lottie
Steven spanks Lottie
I think we can assume that Lottie is the common denominator here
Left handed spanking from Leia-Ann
Just for variety, Lottie spanks Amy (who looks rather happier about it!)
Lottie spanked by Paul - I do like to vary these spankers you know
Time to check in with Mike again
I'd hate Mr Lewis to think I wasn't going back to him
Lovely classic OTK pose
Ah, about time the fairer sex got back into the act again. Welcome, Lucy
Amy, an unpleasant looking strap, and a lovely looking bottom
Trust Steve to barge in again
Doesn't really matter who's spanking in this one
Ah, you can't keep a good Dutchman down
And he's especially handy with a cane
Lottie's bottie (yes, I am entirely shameless)
You can't beat a nice bottom (oh, you know what I mean)
Bonus appearance by Ireylnn
I think Advertising Standards insist I finish with a bare bottom piccie
And I hope that all of that has given you some idea why I like Lottie Kinsade.

If you're out there reading this Lottie, please drop me a line, to let us all know how you are, and what you're doing now.

All the best

Tim

Pictures, rather self evidently in the circumstances, come from Northern Spanking and Spanked in Uniform, two of my favourite sites.

Video of the Week - Schoolgirl Slippering (Dreams of Spanking)

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This time my video of the week is a little different; usually I urge you to check out the site I've drawn it from, but in this case I can't.

Not, I hasten to add, because I don't think the site in question is worth a look, but because. sadly, it's not currently available. The site is, of course, Pandora Blake's Dreams of Spanking, which is currently on hiatus due to the bastard censors who claim to represent the people of my country.

I won't bore you with further explanations of the inequalities and lack of sense of this legislation, but suffice it to say that it unfairly targets small producers, porn aimed at women and our own fun little games.

Whew. I'll take a deep breath before I continue.

I like this film for three reasons I think:

1. it is simple but intense
2. there is a wonderful realism to the scene
3. girls being slippered really turn me on

The film opens with schoolgirl Pandora waiting nervously for a meeting with her Head Teacher, the wonderfully authoritative Thomas Cameron. He tells her that her behaviour has been disgraceful; she has been selling booze to younger girls.

He could expel her, or instead she can accept traditional discipline, which is 12 slaps of a bloody big plimsoll. Pandora accepts the latter, and receives 12 ritualistic whacks. She stands, rubbing her bottom, and inadvertently swears. 

She is forced to bend back over the table, and this time her skirt is raised for another 12 powerful thuddy smacks, which she has to count out.

Punishment over she rubs  her sore bottom and leaves the scene.

Simple story and, in this day and age, pure fantasy, but due to the skills of the performers this seems very real. The scene is carefully shot, and everything is very clear (as usual, any blurriness is purely the fault of my screen grabbing).

This film hits any number of my buttons, and I still love to see Pandora being spanked; she's been a good friend to this blog but even so I still adore seeing that pained expression as the slipper whacks home once more.

So, as you may well expect (well, you're here, aren't you?) it's time for a plethora of punishment pictures, courtesy of Dreams of Spanking, and let's all hope Pandora is able to resume operations soon.


Pensive Pandora
Authentic school uniform
And her's the Head
They discuss Pandora's inappropriate behaviour
Pandora is a little nervous now
Disbelief!
Mr Thomas guides her towards her fate
He pushes her into position
Pleasantly placed for the plimsoll
Preparing to punish (yep, I overdo the alliteration)
Pre-punishment rub
Rather more than nervous now


First whack falls
Second whack
Ready for another
The plimsoll arrives
And again
Pandora's reaction
Yeowouch!
Another meaty slap
Thomas is entirely convincing
This is beautifully framed
He gets a decent swing, doesn't he?
The result of the swing
Oh look, it's bounced off Pandora's bottom
Our final scheduled whack
The result at one end
And at the other
I love to see a saw bottom being rubbed
The sting makes Pandora swear
Back in position, only a bit more exposed
Ah, rosy pink cheeks
Wow, that's gotta hurt!
And that one too
Not to mention that one
Yeah, they certainly do
A pink cheeked close up
A little bit tender
Just rubbing the pain away
One final shot
I doubt that the stills really give more than a flavour of the film, and why I like it so  much; the thwack of the heavy plimsoll as it lands on Pandora's adorable bottom, the authentic schoolgirl feel and the real anguish on our hero's face as the plimsoll smacks across her bottom, all contribute, for me.

As I said at the top of the post, if this video isn't already on your hard drive then the chances of seeing it, in the short term are pretty slim. We can only hope that Pandora triumphs over the Evil Empire, and we get to see the full glory of her work once again.

That'll do for now, lad.

All the best

Tim


What does spanking mean to you?

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As you probably know by now, I don't usually post to this blog on a weekend; 4 days in the week, pretty regularly now, with an occasional bonus post when I have something special for you, is enough.

I'm not telling anyone who writes a blog anything new when I say that, whilst it's also a lot of fun, blogging frequently can be exhausting, especially when you spend time trying to come up with different, and hopefully, interesting material.

We do it because we enjoy it, and because, oh, we do so love those rising page view numbers.

None of which is a great start, as it's spectacularly off topic.

What does spanking mean to you? Me, I've described it variously as my hobby, my obsession, my reason for living, my chief source of sexual arousal, the reason we go through so much kitchen roll and an unalloyed joy.

I was chatting with a delightful lady the other day, one whom I've met through this wonderful wired in world of spanking, and she said something, deceptively simple, that took a while to sink in with me.

She's a professional lady (not like that, dumbass!), and she works long hours at a demanding job; she's self employed, driven and successful.

What she said to me is this; "spanking is my fun."

In the midst of a pressured exhausting lifestyle, she finds time to spend playing spanky games, because it's fun.

And, y'know, it is, isn't it?

When I named this blog "A spanking good time", that was what I was getting at. For me, and for many of you, I guess, spanking is a good time. Whether you use spanking as sexual foreplay, whether (as for me, most of the time) it is an entirely satisfying experience that may arouse me but is enough of itself without actual sex, or whether it's about the pain, and the emotional release that it can bring, spanking is fun.

I said above that I've called it my hobby; it's an activity that I happily spend time on, that takes me away from real life and allows me to relax. Sounds like a hobby to me. If you do your hobbies properly, well, yeah, they're fun.

Spanking has another benefit that not all hobbies share; while you can have a fun spanking experience on your own, through pictures, videos, stories and just the use of your imagination, it's an activity that's at it's best when shared.

I genuinely envy those of you that are in happy spanking relationships with your partner/spouse/lover. That must be wonderful. I don't have that; my wife tolerated spanking when we were younger, but has grown away from it, as I've become more fascinated by it.

Luckily there are ladies out there who, for a reasonable fee, will help keep your spanky dreams alive. Every now and then you may also just be lucky enough to encounter a spanky partner you can just play with for the mutual joy of spanking.

I don't tend to be the sort of person who talks out their troubles; I bottle my shit up, and I know this isn't healthy, but, y'know, fuck it, I'm English. Stiff upper lip and all of that. I think we're getting better but it's hard to argue that we aren't pretty emotionally repressed, as a country.

Going on a spanking date changes everything for me. I relax, I play different parts, I lose myself in spanking and being spanked. I come away from a meeting with a spanking partner emotionally lighter; however grim the rest of life may be, for that brief interval I am happy.

No, more than that; I am content, at peace with myself and the World. Spanking is my fun, in the deepest fullest sense.

I know spankos who feel guilty about seeing non-partners to play. Well, boy, that ain't me. I love the whole thing, the sensations, the emotions, the pain (although not too much), and the release.

It's not a sexual release, I should add. I rarely become more than slightly aroused whilst actually spanking or being spanked. The emotional catharsis of the experience tends to take precedence. Yeah, and that fun.

I do find this a little odd; spanking, as an idea, always arouses me. I look at spanking videos, and become very aroused very quickly. Good spanking pictures can do the same. To an extent, spanking fiction can too, although I do have a tendency to become obsessed with the quality of the writing, which distracts me a bit.

Anything spanking related makes me hard, except actually spanking. The memory of playing is sexually exciting, the anticipation of a play date even more so. 

None of this matters though, because spanking is my fun. It gets me through the day; it's healthier and cheaper than alcohol, and if anything, it does the opposite of making me fatter.

Well, I've heard that a writing a blog is all about baring your soul, and you can certainly see mine here without the benefit of x-rays. 

Spanking is my fun. Is it yours?

All the best

Tim

PS I've just thrown in a few pictures from Mike's Real Life Spanking, for those of you who were getting bored with all of the rambling words. Please enjoy them.

It's time for another superstar blogger interview - Veronica - Old Fashion Girl Spanking

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And now, in a change from our scheduled broadcast, we are pleased to bring you....

Of course, I know that you are all people with impeccable taste, so surely you already read the gorgeous Veronica's splendid spanking blog, Old Fashion Girl Spanking.

This blog has, in my opinion, two main things goings for it:-

1. Veronica designed it as an amateur spanking blog, centered around the spankings she receives from her husband, Tony. She gets lots of these, and they are often photographed, and then presented on her site. And they are very hot.

2. Veronica is a very dedicated blogger, who posts on a daily basis; there's always something new and fun to have a look at. Her blog is certainly on my list of sites I look at each and every day

Apart from being gorgeous, Veronica is also a lovely generous person, who very kindly agreed to spend some time with my blog readers and I, by granting a very entertaining interview.

I tell you what - that's enough from me. Let's get to know Veronica a little better, shall we? Yes, indeed, we shall.


1. An easy opener; when did you realise that you were a spanko?
When I was around four years old I remember watching my uncle spank my boy cousin who was around six. He spanked him over his knee on the bare bottom and I enjoyed it, it excited me... LOL! I became hooked ever since. I wished it was me getting spanked!

2. How did you meet Tony?
I met Tony in college... it was love at first sight. 

3. Did he spank you from the beginning of your relationship?
Yes, he pulled me across his lap playfully and spanked me. I asked him if he enjoyed spanking and he said yes, I said me too and that was that. Spankings became part of our lives.

4. I know that spankings are sexual for you; do you always get turned on, even when severely spanked?
Spanking makes me very wet and horny regardless of how severe or mild they are. Talking about spanking makes me horny.. I'm horny right now...LOL!

5. What made you decide to start your blog?
I started my blog in 2009 because I enjoyed some of the blogs out there. I wanted to bring a real amateur side to spanking like the girl next door instead of a model getting paid. Now amateur spanking is all over the web but I feel that I was one of the first to really post amateur pictorials.

6. I think that it's incredible you've kept it going for so long with daily posts. What motivates you? And how much time to you have to dedicate to it?
Well I have a professional job that is quite demanding but I put some time each day and dedicate it to my blog. I like adding humor and sensuality to keep it fresh.

7. In the early days you published photos in which your face was largely obscured. Now you're happy to show your whole beautiful face. What changed?
I'm more out of the closet now, back then I was worried about a friend or co-worker finding my blog but now I don't care as much. If they are on a spanking blog they most likely are also into spanking.

8. Do you get much feedback from readers? I always mean to comment more but I rarely get around to it (on a number of blogs actually).
Not as much as I would like, I don't feel my blog is as popular as some others but I do get 1500 to 2000 visitors each day so I'm happy. 

9. You've posted a couple of pictures of you spanking Tony; how often does this happen?
Not as often as it should, that man gets away with murder, ha ha. We don't switch much and to be honest I much prefer being the spankee but he knows that I'll tan his hide if he gets too out of line.

10. Do you photograph all of your spankings?
Not at all... so many spankings are never caught on film. 

11. I know that I should never ask a lady how old she is, but I'm a nosy sod, and you never seem to age. How old are you?
I was born in 1972 and I'm a cancer, being half Asian keeps me looking young because Asian women age very well, I try and take care of myself and I'm a beautiful 43 year old. :)

Frankly I had to read that twice before I was sure that I had read it correctly. I would have thought Veronica was, at the most, around 30. Wow. She really is stunning.

12. Is your primary reaction to spanking physical, emotional or psychological?
Psychological at first, I love getting in that head space. Physical during the spanking, the pain the excitement, the physical turn on. Emotional is always there at all times.

13. While you clearly love to be spanked, some of your spankings seem to be of a disciplinary nature. You're a strong confident young woman; why do you submit to them?
Exactly,because I'm a strong confident woman who needs to be brought down a few notches from time to time. If I wasn't then the spankings would be abusive instead of comforting and nurturing.


14. How do you feel after being spanked for something that you have done wrong?
Honestly, even though it hurts a lot I feel very loved. Like he cares enough to discipline me.

15. Has the threat of being spanked ever made you change your behaviour?
Oh, hell no!!! It only encourages it... I'm 100% brat all the time and love it.

16. Were you spanked as a child, and do you believe spanking has a role in child raising?
I was spanked but it was at the age of 13 and though brief it was very embarrassing because I knew I was into spanking at that age in a sexual way. I was very confused yet sexually aroused and I felt very guilty for feeling that way. I don't have children but I am not against spanking as a last resort if done in a loving  and nurturing environment.

17. Some serious questions there. Let's lighten the mood. What's your favourite word?
Besides "spanking" hmmm, "fuck" I have a potty mouth.

18. Do you ever make a conscious effort to afford using bad language on your blog? Do you worry about offending visitors to it? I admit that I do try to reduce the amount of swearing that I do, which is probably stupid on a sexually explicit blog, but you never know what will offend people.
Sometimes I'll post things that are sexual like a male masturbating to spanking pics or Tony bending me over to "fuck" me after a spanking and I'll be like, "did I just post that?" But most are receptive to it and spanking is sexual between adults so I don't worry too much. I do want to keep it spanking related but a little naughty from time to time is okay.

19. Does anyone other than Tony ever spank you?
Only him but I do want a woman to spank me, I'm open to being spanked by others but Tony is a bit on the jealous side and want my ass all to himself, can you blame the man? I really want an older man to spank me too, it's a fantasy of mine, someone in their 70's... that's hot!!! Daddy, I've been a bad, bad girl!

20. I freely admit that I'd love to see you spanked by a woman (my turn to be horny - sorry); do you have anyone in mind?
I would love to be spanked by the Dana Specht, perhaps I'll have to reach out to her in the near future,:)

Hmm, I more had Dana Kane in mind. Two wonderfully hot women together in spanking Heaven. How could you not like that?

21. Who is your fantasy spanker?
Brad Pitt... I love that man, I need him to put me across his lap and bare my bottom like right now! Yup,he can spank me any day even if it cost me my marriage.

22. What's the perfect spanking implement?
A man's hand but I also like the slipper. It's so juvenile and nostalgic.

23. I thought that the slipper was mostly a British type of implement, Is there much slipper spanking in the US? it's one of my favourites too.
It's pretty popular here too, I know that in my house the slipper is used quite often especially at bed time. In the US the hairbrush is the most used implement for otk but the slipper is still used, just not as much as the hairbrush.

I actually adore the hairbrush as well, especially the large heavy flat backed one my spanky pal Cherri has; I love the thuddy noise as I smack her bare bottom with it. Ah, now I'm horny again.

24. Apart from your blog, are you actively involved in the spanking scene?
Not of yet but hopefully that will soon change.


Well. there you have it. The wonderful Veronica in her own words, with just a few of mine thrown in.

I loved doing this interview, and Veronica was extremely patient while I spent a long, long time looking at her blog (there are a lot of posts in six years) and I'm a bit of a slow question writer.

Anyway, I'm extremely pleased that I approached Veronica about answering a few questions, because I think this is a really fun interview, which is all down to my lovely interviewee. I think it's great that she and Tony have found each other, and have such a happy spanky life style. If only we were all so lucky.

Of course, Tony is the one to attract the greater envy; after all, her gets to spank that lovely bottom, and he gets to do it often. Lucky, lucky man.

Well, that'll do it for now. I hope you enjoyed the interview; I'm currently working on a couple of other ones, which hopefully will be posted in the not too distant future.

All the best

Tim

Pictures are, of course, taken from Veronica's Old Fashion Girl Spanking, and remain her copywrite. I strongly recommend that you pop over to visit her, and you'll find lots and lots more pictures to drool over.

The OTK files - Spanked Cheeks

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A couple of weeks ago I did a little post about the adorable Andi Switch, based around her appearances in Northern Spanking films. One of my very kind and attentive readers reminded me that she also appeared in some of Sam Johnson's clip store films, one Shadowlane film, and several for Spanked Cheeks.

I have a good number of the Spanked Cheeks films on my hard drive, so I had a troll through them, to look for Andi's appearances. I found a few, but I also just had a good time looking at the clips. So good a time that I have decided to share some lovely OTK piccies with you.

Spanked Cheeks is one of a group of spanking and fetish sites, most of which are F/M, and including Vixen Ladies and Lina's House of Discipline. In fact, Lina stares in a lot of these films, and I think I first joined the site to try to find videos with Lina being spanked in them.

Sadly I failed in this goal, although I have seen a couple of stills that suggest such films do exist (I'd still love to see them if anyone knows where they can be found).

There are a lot of hot women getting spanked here though; are you ready to take a look, through my jaundiced eyes? 

Take a seat; it's OTK files time again!


Ah, I love a red headed spanker
Sam Johnson spanked
And again (this time by Jadie Reece)
Dunno who either of these are, but she's hot
About time Lina arrived, here spanking Sarah Stern
Insanely sexy Sam spanks
Lina spanks Leia-Ann part one
Pandora looks wonderful in these jeans
Policewoman Lina spanks (isn't impersonating a police officer grounds for a spanking?)
I don't know who Lina's spanking here, but she looks great in that orange thing
Lina spanks Leia-Ann part two
Lina spanks the spectacular Andi Switch
Lina spanks Sarah (yes, again!)
Lina spanks that blond girl again
Lina spanks Dani Hunt
Different film, same bottom - we really haven't seen enough of Dani around here recently
I really must do a post highlighting ladies spanked in jeans
Nicely reddened bottom
Sarah must have been naughty; Lina's spanking her again
Lina spanks Sam; lovely clean classic pose
Lina spanks Leia-Ann part three
Lina spanks Leia-Ann part four
Same film, different bottom; Andi's turn
Sam looks really good as a spanker (she feels nice as one, too)
Schoolgirl Jenna spanked in front of her mum
Lina always blames the parents; mum doesn't escape a good spanking either
Ah look, Dublin's very red rump!

I'm afraid that all we have time for; well, it's all that I have the energy to gather up and post anyway. These seemingly effortless comments don't come easily you know, unlike me after looking at these films.

Oops, that just slipped out. Can't believe I let that get through my internal censor. 

Anyway, as I'm sure you gleaned, all of these screen grabs come from the films of Spanked Cheeks, which are a pretty fun bunch. Don't take my word for it though - why not spend a few minutes checking them out?

All the best

Tim

Still in search of the perfect bottom? Oh, stop it - here's Leandra

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This is less of a "why I like" and more of an "I absolutely adore" type of post, featuring the fabulous Leandra.

What do I know about Leandra? Well, like most of the girls that I talk about, not a tremendous amount. She's Dutch, and blonde. When she first appeared on Real Life Spanking she was 24 years old; by now I'd say she must be a little shy of 30.

She was, as far as I am able to check, appeared as a spanking model on just three sites; Real Life Spanking, Spanked in Uniform and Triple A Spanking.

Clearly she is Mike the Dutchman's discovery; I don't know how John Osbourne got to use her, but he's a lucky, lucky bastard. Again. Jesus. Lucky bastard squared, or some other exponential function.

What does Leandra bring to a spanking video? Three things that I find worthy of note:-

1. The most stunning bottom around. It looks spectacular in jean, leggings, panties or just as nature created it. Round, bouncy, perfectly sized and formed

2. A natural beauty; I'm not generally a particular fan of blonde ladies (with the obvious exceptions of my Cherri and Michelle Pfeifer) but Leandra is stunning enough to make me change my mind about that.

3. She has a wonderfully mischievous on screen personality; this comes across especially well in the RLS films, where basically she plays herself, as a cheeky girl who loves to see just how far she can go. I love to see her scuttling to the door, balanced on high heels and clutching a well spanked bottom, a wide grin on her face.

In fact, let's make that number four, shall we?

4. Leandra has a sunny infectious smile that makes you think she has enjoyed every stinging smack.

Hopefully you'll get the idea from these  pictures; I may have gotten carried away with these, but I can't help it - I find Leandra absolutely irresistible. I go back to watch her films time and time again.

Well, you've read enough of my waffle (unless you went straight to the pictures which, on this occasion only, I would forgive - of course if you did go straight to the pictures then you won't be reading this and my forgiveness will fall on deaf ears), and I will, for once, try to keep my comments to a minimum.

Anyway, there are too many pictures for me to say something about each of them!

Let the Leandra Love In begin!


Leandra over Mike's knee - you'll see quite a lot of this here
I love the way that she kicks
Mike's hand and Leandra's bottom - made for each other (well, my hand would be better, of course, but...)
I'm never quite sure if this is agony or ecstasy
Leandra's bottom goes nice and red too
Could those jeans be any tighter?
Let's have a close look
Leandra has probably my favourite spanky face
Those jeans even look tight when taken down
I think I may be in spanky love
Oh boy. Beautiful at both ends
As God intended - red bottomed and kicking
A sight to warm any spanko's heart
Running for safety (after the fact)
In very tight trousers
Another lovely reaction shot of the lovely Leandra
Leandra in England (well, I assume that's where John shot with her)
Just what every grown up Girl Guide needs
Good use of split-screen technology from John
Leandra looking adorable and innocent
Paddle on Leandra's lovely backside
I'd make this my desktop wallpaper, except I think my wife would leave me
John is less of an OTK guy than I am
He does do a nice job of reddening Leandra's bottom though
More of Leandra
Had enough yet? No? Good; back to Mike then
I already made the combination crack, didn't I? Crap, have to think of something else then
Mike gets rough, and Leandra stays adorable
Always worth another look at her spanky face
What could make this shot better? Well, me in Mike's place, obviously
Lovely pose and a lovely spankee
They're here again
Where better to end than with the end of a spanking?

I know that everyone has different tastes, and different turn ons, so I suppose there's a chance that some of you didn't like those pictures, or don't find Leandra attractive. Of course, you'd probably have to be reading this blog with your eyes closed, but it takes all sorts.

I know it's unlikely but if anyone reading this knows how to contact Leandra please let me know; I'd love to do an interview with her. Of course, I'd really like to spank her as well, but we all know that isn't happening.

Also if any of my kind readers are aware of any other spanking site Leandra has shot for, please post a comment; I really can't get enough of her.

Well, that's enough of this for another week. Be here tomorrow for this week's fabulous Video of the Week.

All the best

Tim

All pictures are taken from Real Life Spankings, Triple A Spanking (the ones with John in them) or Spanked in Uniform. Mike's two sites are the best European spanking sites I know of, and John's increasingly Anglo-US site is a joy.

Video of the Week - Cassie's Audition (Institute of Discipline)

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Well, I don't know where in the World you are, but here in the middle of Britain it's wet and miserable. Not cold enough for a little seasonal snow, but chilly enough to strike to the centre of your bones.

Oh, I bet you wish that you were here!

Anyway, welcome to my usual Friday post, and another Video of the Week. This is from our old friends at the British site Institute of Discipline, and features Katie Stricktland, testing out a new potential spankee for one of her sites. The girl in question is called Cassie.

Except, of course, she isn't. IoD have a habit of changing the names of the ladies that they feature (when I asked the lovely Princess Paris why they had renamed her as "Lucy" she said that they told her she just looked like a "Lucy"); we have seen this lady before, under the name of Amanda Ackroyd.

In all honesty it was only when I came to prepare this post that I realised I had seen her before. This is a bit ironic as one of the charms of this film is Amanda's facial expressions.

Anyway, on to the film, which is unusual for this series as it has very little in the way of plot. Cassie turns up for her audition spanking, goes over Katie's knee for a firm spanking, and then bends over a horse for a very sound slippering.

What makes this film for me is Cassie. As you may recall from my review of her film Vengeful Parent Spanks Teacher, posted a few weeks ago, I am a big fan of this lady. She's lovely to look at, and has a wonderfully round, slightly plump and very spankable backside.

Watching this film she plays an inexperienced spankee, and the severity of her audition punishment seems to come as quite a surprise, to judge by her reactions to it. She gasps, wriggles, covers her mouth and swears.

One thing; just glancing at this film I thought that the slippering, in particular, was quite a prolonged one, and certainly a real bottom stinger as Katie hammers home the ballet shoe style slipper again and again. Now it actually appears that the film presents three different angles on the same punishment.

It certainly leaves Amanda with a stinging red bottom though! And so to some pretty punishment pictures.


Cassie's bottom
Katie, our punisher
Cassie across Katie's knee
Cassie getting spanked
Very shiny panties
Panties down 
It's not too bad, just yet
That one stung though!
Quite red already
Not yet red enough for Katie though
She'll try to change that
In fact, she's quite dedicated
That's enough of that
A little relief
Time for a good slippering
Good whacks
Certainly making an impression
Shiny knickers and stinging slipper
Whack!
Pursed lips; she felt that one
She got them bare bottom blues. Well, reds
Yes, definitely reds
Another juicy smack
A bit stingier than she expected
No point in praying; Katie doesn't listen
See, I told you
Cassie's still feeling them
Just take a deep breath
Eyes to the skies
And the beat goes on
Checking she's done a good job
Looks well spanked to me
Very well spanked
Well, that went well
Panties back in position
Definitely deserves a rub
I think that the very simplicity of this film appeals to me; no messing about, just over Katie's knee and the spanking begins. Katie is fierce and strict. Amanda/Cassie (I know, I haven't been able to decide what to call her) is a lovely spankee, and her expressions are wonderful.

I'm not sure if this was early in Amanda's spanking career, and the level of the punishment genuinely surprised and hurt her, or whether she just acts very well, but her expressions throughout are worth the price of admission alone.

I love OTK spankings (go one away with ya! Do you really?) and the slipper holds a real fascination for me. Great film, with two splendid ladies.

That's all we have time for this week; Monday I intend to resume our series of spanking stories, and there should be another interview posted next week as well.

All the best

Tim

All pictures are my screen grabs from the splendid Institute of Discipline film; they have some of the best slippering and caning films around, in my opinion. Why not check them out?

On the nature of critical review

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Whew, that's a pretty off-putting title, isn't it? It's almost like I'm trying to convince you not to read this post.

And, sorry people, but it's going to be a bit of a serious one. yes, I know, two in a couple of weeks - what can I be thinking of?

Don't worry though; I promise to liven it up with a few fun spanking pictures.

So, when I post pictures I often add a comment suggesting that the reader might like to check out the websites from which they have been harvested. 

There are two reasons for this; the first is that these sites need our support, and I'm always pleased to promote them (I don't use pictures from sites, such as Girls Boarding School, that I don't like). 

The other is just that I simply enjoy the videos that these sites provide.

I've had an email accusing me of talking up any site that will give me free access; in all fairness in the past I have accepted the odd month's free membership, in order that I can write a review. There's nothing unusual in this; very few film critics actually buy tickets to see the films that they talk about.

I haven't done this for over 12 months now; each month I join one site and download everything that I don't have, and that is the source of the pictures that I use.

This is not to say that I wouldn't accept free membership if it were offered, hey, I'm not entirely stupid. I do not, however, go out of my way to seek them. 

The thing is, I'm not trying to tell you that these sites are great; I'm just trying to tell you that I like them. You may well like them too. I certainly hope so, but we all have our own likes and dislikes.

The science fiction writer and critic Spider Robinson, when he took the role of reviewer for Galaxy magazine in the 1970's actually said this; he would not tell his readers whether a book was good or not, but he would say whether he liked it, and if so, why.

This seems to me to be the best possible approach to criticism. Well, let's call it reviewing, shall we? There are far too many negative connotations to the word "criticism".

It also seems to me that there are very few absolutes in reviewing. Whilst I may find Fifty Shades of Grey to be turgid and badly written, millions of readers world wide have a different view. Of course, as an individual, I think my opinion is the correct one, but undoubtedly everyone else feels the same way about theirs.

I read very widely; I appreciate what I consider to be good writing. Whilst I love the Library of Spanking Fiction, I do find a worryingly high percentage of stories there to be unreadable, due to defects in the writing. A lot of writers are unable to follow basic rules of sentence construction, they use poor grammar and tenses waiver.

None of this is to say that the stories aren't imaginative, or filled with spanky goodness. I'm not saying that anyone other than me shouldn't enjoy them. I'm not saying that my standards are higher than those of the writers. Or the readers.

I'm just saying that these stories do not provide what I want. 

In the same way, I admit to a bit of an obsession with over the knee spanking. For me, it's really not a proper spanking unless OTK is involved.

You may well disagree; perhaps what really excites you is a pretty lady bent over a desk. Certainly if the lady in question is being caned I would agree. Hand spanking for me equates to over the knee spanking.

I am so inclined to this that I will flick through a video that does not have over the knee spanking, even if my favourite models are involved. 

We all have different desires. We all have certain things that work for us. We all like what we like.

The intensity of spankings is also an individual issue; I tend towards the lighter end of the spectrum. I like to see a well reddened rump, and I like to see a young lady squirm whilst being spanked, but when we get to the point that there is bruising, or the skin breaks, I look away.

Well, actually I turn the film off, and delete the file.

I quite like to watch men being spanked by women. Actually, that's the wrong way around. I quite like to see women spank men.

I invariably ignore the man entirely, and mentally put myself into their position. Which is, of course, ideally over some stern lady's knee.

When I play, as a switch, I like to receive a firm spanking, but my limits aren't that high. I don't enjoy receiving the cane so, generally, I don't like F/M films that include caning.

I do quite like the odd M/F or F/F film that has caning, because I experience these differently,

These type of things will inform my opinion of any film that I watch, and, logically, any web site that supplies them. It doesn't make one type of film better than another; it's simply a matter of taste.

There is a myth to criticism, that it can be unbiased. That's bullshit; everyone carries baggage around with them, and this will always have a bearing on how we perceive the world around us. This of course includes the things that we do for entertainment.

That's okay though, as long as the critic declares his biases. 

It's cheap and easy to deride something that you don't enjoy. I particularly object to reality tv shows. I like my television viewing to be escapist. I live in reality.

I'm entitled to this opinion. I'm entitled to express it. I'm not entitled to say that these shows are utter crap.

For one thing, I don't watch them, so any criticism I may make is instantly irrelevant. Secondly, I don't suppose that the production values are any lower than on any other show. Thirdly, well, I'm not qualified to comment on their quality.

I don't like them. That is all that I can sensibly say.

I mentioned above that I don't like Girls Boarding School. That doesn't mean that the site  is poor, or that the subscribers who keep it going are idiots.

It just means that it does not meet my needs. I don't like the way that the girls are often demeaned, I don't like the harshness of many of the punishments and I don't like the somewhat cold feel of the site. 

If you appreciate the elements that I decry it doesn't make you wrong. It makes you an individual. I'm just saying that I don't like it, and trying to explain why.

Some critics attract a regular following. Arguably that is the best way to use a reviewer; if you read the same one frequently, you get to know the type of things that they like, and you will know whether the same things appeal to you.

If you find yourself regularly agreeing or disagreeing with their views this will enable you to make an informed decision as to whether you will like something that they talk about.

If you managed to make it this far through my meandering thoughts, and you're a regular who keeps turning up at my blog, it's not unreasonable to assume that you at least appreciate some of the things that turn me on. Perhaps not all of them, but enough that you don't think clicking into my blog is a waste of your time.

It may be that, as a result of seeing some pictures here that strike a particular chord with you, after checking out one of the fine websites I offer images from, you decide to join it. If so, that's great.

If you're just happy to browse through the pictures that I post, I'm fine with that as well.

Ultimately I don't provide this blog as a service to you, the reader, or as a promotional tool for any fee charging site; I keep writing it because I have fun doing so. Spanking is about fun. 

I love the fact that I have a number of regular readers; at the moment this blog attracts between 1200 and 1500 page views each day, and a lot more than that when one of my posts gets Chrossed. I hope that it entertains you.

If it informs you too, well, that's a little bonus.

All the best

Tim

All pictures this time are taken from Chelsea Pfeiffer's Good Spanking Classics, because that's where I've been spending my free time this week. And more about that next week.

Oh, as I'm feeling particularly lazy, they're all from the same film as well, CP Invitational Two. Lots of good, clean spanking fun. And here is one last screen grab, just to finish things off nicely.





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