Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best
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A Whipping At Hogtied.Com
I cannot immediately identify the shoot at Kink.com’s Hogtied channel, from which this vintage porn-tumblr bondage pussy whipping .gif must have been extracted:
If anybody knows the model by her face, that might or might not help me narrow it down. (Some have dozens of shoots with Kink.com, some just a few.)
By the way, there’s presently a 4th of July sale underway at the Kink site, if you’re looking to save money on your next kinky porn purchase.
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Flirty Cheeks Get A Good Tanning
When I first saw the two flirty buns-out poses below in a 1959 issue of Rapture magazine, I thought it was pretty cheeky for the era, even for a beachside sun-and-sand pinup feature with several topless shots. (The lower shot was reproduced in the magazine only in a tiny postage-stamp size, hence its very poor quality reproduction here.) But even though my immediate thought was “this naughty young lady obviously needs a good spanking” I’m pretty predicable that way; I can find fetish fuel in vanilla porn all day long, especially when bare bottoms are on show. Next, I realized that one of the many airy captions for the magazine shoot said “many a girl has received a good tanning in return for over-exposure on a private beach.” Great minds think alike, obviously:
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Hairbrush Spanked For Matchmaking
In Wynter’s Wife by Megan McCoy, our happily married heroine got busted by her husband for matchmaking. He told her not to, but she ignored him, invited a party guest for the specific purpose of fixing her up with another guest, and it didn’t go well. Now the guests are gone, and she’s in trouble for it:
She looked at him. “Why am I in trouble?”
“What is the one thing I tell you, my one rule?” He walked to the adjoining bathroom and came back with the hairbrush, dropping casually on the bed and pushed his sleeves up.
“Listen to what I tell you,” she answered, heart sinking.
“What did I tell you?” he said.
“Not to fix Kevin up; but really, Sam, it was a spur of the moment decision. I just went in to get flowers and we got to talking and well, then, it just came out of my mouth,” she said in one breath.
“And you just forgot to tell me about this spur of the moment decision.” It wasn’t a question she knew, and he had his lawyer voice on.
“Well, maybe I didn’t exactly forget,” she said.
“Maybe?” he asked, lifting that eyebrow in a way that she knew meant he knew the answer already.
“I knew you’d think I was trying to set Kevin up,” she said, twisting her fingers together.
“Would I have been wrong?”
“Probably not,” she said, “but Sam!”
He folded his arms and she couldn’t help the shiver of desire for him that shot through her. He was so, well, Sam. “I’m waiting,” he said.
For what, she wondered. She just looked at him, till he sighed.
“Fine, let’s remind you that I mean what I say. Drop the pants and get over here.” He picked up the hairbrush and sat down in the straightback chair.
“Sam,” she whined. “Come on.”
“Don’t even start,” he said. “You know it’s going to happen, you might as well do what you’re told.”
Yeah. That was one thing she did know. He never broke his word. That was good in a way, she knew he’d never cheat on her. She always knew where he stood on things. If he said he’d pick up a gallon of milk after work, he would. If he decided she needed a spanking, she was going to get one. It didn’t matter if she argued that grown up adult women didn’t get spanked. In their family, they did. She accepted it, and when it wasn’t right before or during a spanking, it was rather exciting to think of his alpha self. But right now, she let the tears fall already. Why not?
“Remember this feeling next time you choose not to listen to me,” he said. “Drop the pants and get over here.”
She pushed her leggings to her thighs, and then sighed and pulled her sparkly Christmas sweater off over her head too. She had a long camisole under it, so she wasn’t naked, but she knew she’d be sweating in just a few minutes, and her sweater was too new and pretty to get sweated through.
“That works,” he said. “Come here and get all comfortable over my lap, because you might be here a while. This is the second spanking in a week you’ve gotten for not listening. If I don’t make it memorable there could be a third, which is fine for me, but you? I’m not so sure.”
Lily threw herself over her husband’s lap, in the by now familiar position. She did not want this so much. Yet, she sighed and braced herself with her hands. “Sam?”
“I’m going to fire up your brain,” he told her and the hairbrush came down before she expected it.
“I’m not ready!” she shrieked. He wasn’t kidding around.
“Oh, that’s right, you aren’t.” And with that, he peeled down her panties with one movement and she felt the hairbrush again before she could feel embarrassed. That was the only good thing about a hairbrush, you didn’t remember your butt was bare and everything exposed, all you concentrated on was the hairbrush.
“Ow! No! Sam, please!”
Naturally, he didn’t listen.
He spanked so hard and fast, she couldn’t even tell when one stopped or started. Her legs kicked up and high, trying to stop the hairbrush and she realized at some point that he was holding both her wrists. Twisting and squirming, she tried to get out of the path of Hurricane Hairbrush. She didn’t bother to beg, just started sobbing. Her butt was on fire and she felt the panic build, where she knew she couldn’t deal with it, just couldn’t. Nothing else mattered and nothing ever had, but the fire in her bottom, and her inability to make it stop.
What seemed like an hour later, she realized that he was no longer spanking her, but wasn’t letting her up either. Now what?
“Do you understand why you deserved a spanking?” he asked her.
“Because you told me not to do something and I did it.” See? She could argue with him, or defend herself, but that would be stupid. Maybe the hairbrush did make her smarter. Who would have thought? Well, Sam, apparently.
He started rubbing her bottom, so that must have been the right answer. “Twice in a week,” he said. “What’s going on? Are you trying to do too much?”
“I’m not!” she protested that. “Can we please talk when I’m in an upright position?”
He seemed to consider that and pulled her up on his lap. “But you can go back over anytime.”
“I understand,” she said meekly, wincing a bit as her sore bottom met his jeans. He handed her a tissue from his shirt pocket, and she blew her nose but decided not to wipe her tears away. Let him see what he did.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Someone just used the hairbrush pretty harshly.”
“That would be me, and you deserved every bit of it.” He kissed her head and wiped a tear with his finger. “Now, talk to me about what’s going on.”
Lily put her head on his chest. “I just want to have a perfect Christmas,” she said. “Is that too much to ask?”
“Nothing ever turns out perfectly,” he said, and kissed her again. “Remember that movie we watched the other day? Think how boring it would have been if things had gone perfectly.”
“Our life isn’t a movie. It’s our first Christmas together and the first one for Tyler here in this house, he wasn’t even home last Christmas. I just remember all the Christmases growing up, with the extended family around, and cutting down the trees, and the big dinners, and singing at the church and all the wonderful smells and memories.”
“Tyler is going to have his own memories and they will be just as magical as yours,” Sam said. “You’re just trying way too hard. Can you calm down and dial it back just a little? Believe it or not, turning that cute butt red isn’t my favorite thing to do with it.”
“Couldn’t prove that by me.” She wiggled just a little.
“I just do what needs done,” he said. “It works to get your quite intelligent brain working just a little harder.”
“Maybe you could just, oh, maybe speak to my intelligent brain first before resorting to drastic measures?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
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Balanced For A Spanking
This is one of those magazine spanking cartoons where it feels like the magazine layup and copywriter people didn’t do the material any favors. I’m pretty sure the image was drawn in reverse (with a right-handed spanker) from how it’s presented here, and the caption, which reads “On second thought, Miss Clodd, books out of balance is better than no balance at all” makes little or no comedic sense:
Artwork is by Gregory. I found it in the February 1979 issue of Fun House magazine. Chicago Spanking Review has a much earlier appearance in Humorama with the same awkward pose and caption, only the earlier caption omitted the word “books”, which may or may not help any.
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How To Melt A Whip Mistress
Leah Orleans aka Stahr Power was performing her “Tiny Girl, Big Show” comedy whip-cracking routine at a renaissance fair when she invited some audience participation from a bearded man in a kilt and he, with perfect comedic timing… didn’t take direction well. (Backup link). End result, she blushed, melted, and had to be rebooted before she could continue the bit. As she told her lovely assistant, “Pack my bags, I’m going home with him!”
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Testing Her New Daddy
In Demolition Daddy by Kelly Dawson, barista Ash has been flirting with a construction foreman working at a site across from her coffee shop. On their first date she decides to brat him up a bit, to see if he means his growly spanking threats. The result is a super-cute bratting scene:
Zac pulls out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from the back of his jeans pocket. I should have guessed he was a smoker. He doesn’t smell like one, but I’ve never met anyone yet who works on any kind of construction site who isn’t. Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he lights it, puffs, and blows the smoke in the other direction from me. I nod appreciatively. He’s considerate.
Although I know it’s unhealthy and bad, and we’re not supposed to think it sexy these days, there’s something about a man who smokes that turns me on. Memories of my granny talking about the Marlboro Man, maybe? But I can’t help myself. This is the perfect opportunity to brat, to test him a little bit, see if he’s a man of his word. Trustworthy.
“Those are bad for you, you know,” I tell him helpfully. At least, I think it sounds helpful. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it just sounds sassy.
He turns to me, one eyebrow raised. “What?”
“Cigarettes,” I clarify. “They’re bad for you. Demolish your lungs, they will.” I walk towards him, stopping so close, the lit end of his cigarette nearly goes up my nose. I rip it from his lips, throw it on the ground, and crush it beneath my heel.
I think he’s too shocked to respond because he just stands there and lets me do it, not making any attempt to stop me or rescue his now-destroyed smoke. It’s easy to reach behind him and pull the entire packet out of his back pocket. I deftly extract one, then tuck the remainder of the pocket down the front of my shirt, inside my bra. Boldly meeting his gaze, I hold the cigarette up in front of his face and snap it in half, silently daring him to stop me.
“I’ll demolish your ass if you keep that up, little girl,” he threatens, but I wave him away.
“Pfft. I’d like to see you try.”
There goes that eyebrow, shooting upwards. Any higher and it would get lost in his hair. My insides squirm, and my pussy clenches with need.
“You don’t think I can?”
“Oh, I think you can, but I don’t think you will.”
“Try me.”
My heart pounds as he fixes me with a challenging stare, just daring me to test him.
So I do.
Reaching inside my shirt, without pulling out the whole box, I grab another cigarette between my fingers and wave it in his face for a fraction of a second before I snap it into three pieces. I stare into his eyes the whole time, and what I see there gives me the courage to continue. He’s not angry. Not even a little bit. His eyes are dancing, not with outrage but amusement. Laughter. He’s enjoying this as much as I am, but he’s clearly not ready to spank me yet, so my work isn’t quite finished.
“Are you done now, little girl?” he asks in that deep, growly voice.
“Nope, don’t think I am yet.” Without breaking our gaze, I reach back inside my shirt again and pull out a third cigarette, wave it in front of him, and snap it, then giggle.
“You, little girl, are a brat.”
I grin up at him.
“What do brats get, little girl?”
“Not ice cream.” I pout sadly, really getting into my role of a bratty little girl. I’m totally enjoying myself and can’t wait to see where this goes.
“Definitely not ice cream, little girl.” Zac shakes his head, his faux-sad expression mirroring my own. He puts a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze higher. “I think you know what brats get, don’t you, little girl?”
I nod solemnly as best I can, with his finger under my chin.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
“What do they get, little girl?”
I suck in a breath, not even sure I can say the words. Not with my racing pulse racing, my clammy hands, my clenching pussy, and my tummy turning flips.
“I’m waiting, little girl,” he tells me sternly.
“They get spanked, Daddy.”
“Yes, little girl, brats get spanked.” Zac’s finger brushes over my mouth, making my lips tingle. “Is that what you want? A spanking? Do you want Daddy to set your bottom on fire?”
“Maybe,” I breathe.
“You deserve a spanking, don’t you?” he scolds. “You ruined four of my cigarettes. That deserves a big spanking, I think.”
“Just a little one, Daddy.” I shake my head, nerves ripping through me. “Not a big one.” This is getting real. Exciting. Scary.
“You don’t decide the terms of your punishment, little girl.”
My body tenses up. I don’t know why because there’s nothing even remotely threatening about Zac right now, his sternness is all an act, but the scars run deep.
He’s not Ian.
Willing my body to relax, I inhale deeply.
He’s not Ian. He’s safe.
Everything in me knows he is.
I’m okay now, but the spell is broken. Zac lets me go and takes a step back. Not too far, but enough, so he’s not crowding me, giving me space.
“We’re not going to do this if it’s not what you want,” he assures me softly.
I shake my head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to not want it.” He sounds disappointed but accepting. He was obviously enjoying our playful little scene as much as I was.
Then you had to go and ruin it!
“I did, though.” I shake my head again, frustrated he doesn’t understand me. “I do. I do want it, but I’ve just come out of a really bad relationship, and I freaked out for a moment. I’m okay now.”
If Zac’s smile could be any more tender, I’d melt. He strokes my hair, and his gentle touch is electrifying.
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to change your mind.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. That was just a bump in the road, but I’m over it now. I promise. I’m ready for my punishment now, Daddy.” To prove my point, I reach back into my pocket again and fish out one more cigarette. There can’t be too many more left in the packet. I’ll have to buy him a new pack tomorrow to make up for my vandalism.
Before I can snap it, he grabs my wrist, takes the cigarette from me, and smacks the back of my hand crisply, leaving behind a slight sting.
“Good girls don’t destroy other people’s things,” he scolds. “Only naughty girls do that, and naughty girls get punished. How do brats get punished, little girl?”
“They get spanked, Daddy. They get spanked hard.”
“That’s right. Daddy makes their bottoms red and sore. Is that what you want, little girl?”
I hesitate for just a moment. Close my eyes. Swallow hard. Then I open my eyes and trail my fingers up his torso, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. My gaze follows my fingers, then continues upward to meet his dark eyes. There is no doubt in my mind that I want this.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He leads me over to the truck and pats the back. “Bend over here,” he commands.
I do as he bids, stretching my torso over the tailgate.
“Take down your jeans.” His voice is husky with arousal. “Underwear, too. I want that bottom bare.”
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