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I don’t know much about the BDSM orgy that Kink.com filmed for this shoot, but the spanking bench is a fine piece of dungeon furniture and the oak spanking stick (just that much thicker and narrower than a yardstick) looks tailor-made for getting a spankee’s full and complete attention:
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In To Tame A Countess by Annabel Joseph, the male love interest, who approves of a good figging, has just declined an invitation to a certain bawdy house. We learn his private thoughts about the place:
He’d been to that flagellation parlor before, and it wasn’t a great establishment. The women all seemed rather overused. He liked his whores like he liked his horses — fresh and frisky, with a piece of ginger in their arse.
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Sneaking porn magazines into class? Yeah, that’s a caning:
Of course everyone here wants to see the two actual caning panels in greater detail, so:
From a classroom orgy scenario in Color Climax #29 (1970).
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I’m pretty sure that if such a thing happened to me, I’d swiftly announce a change in the rules:
This is an Oglaf web comic titled The Jackpot. As with many web comics, this one has a written extra punchline on mouseover; it says “Your chances of getting lucky are less than one in a million.”
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Isn’t the bare-bottomed spanking usually the best part of any picnic? I always thought so!
Picnic table paddling art is by Brian Tarsis.
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All of the men in this room are on their knees being ridden and/or whipped by three women. But if you look closely, there’s one woman perched up on the big wing chair, with her petticoats up and her hands tied and a fierce domme laying into her ass with double-wielded switches. If this is all about paying forfeits in party games, she must have lost big!
I honestly don’t know what’s actually going on in this drawing, nor do I have any credits for source or artist.
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Does she like it when you call her a good girl? Maybe you know she’s got a wee smol praise kink, but you don’t really know why. No worries. Girl On The Net has a bit of an explainer for you:
I like to be told ‘well done’ after something especially sexy. Maybe ‘you looked so hot in the socks‘, or ‘that was a lovely lubed-up hand job!’. I need positive affirmation in the bedroom so much more than I ever need to come. The correct amount of praise is always ‘a bit more than this.’ Every morning, afternoon, evening and in the dead of night: I want my ‘good girl‘, goddammit!
That craving for validation, though fun to play with during sex, isn’t particularly healthy when it bleeds into the rest of my life. It translates into a codependent level of people-pleasing, especially when it comes to men. I hope it won’t surprise regular readers to learn that I desperately want men to like me. I want hot boys to think I’m sexy and good at taking it up the ass. I want other boys to think I’m competent, funny and good at writing. I’d love women and people of other genders to think it too, of course, but broadly I yearn for the approval of men.
A ‘good girl’ in the bedroom is my favourite, but it’s far from the only one I thirst for. I need to be praised for everything. A ‘that was great!’ when I’ve written something awesome for the blog. ‘That’s delicious, well done’ if I bring you a sandwich or bake you a cake. I want you to notice when I’ve cleaned the whole house or put up new shelves or painted something – tell me it’s looking lovely and that you’re impressed. As my ex boyfriend eventually realised to great effect, I can sometimes be motivated to do even the most difficult things if you’ll only tell me ‘attagirl!’ at various points on the journey.
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