Barefoot And Over Her Knee
This cute and feet-forward OTK spanking photo is from the Glittering Images fetish book Bizarreries Book Two by Baldazzini and Saudelli:
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This cute and feet-forward OTK spanking photo is from the Glittering Images fetish book Bizarreries Book Two by Baldazzini and Saudelli:
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The thing about being paddled while strapped to a fucking frame is that the paddling may very well seem gratuitous. But I suppose a cartoon sadist villain is gonna do what he’s gonna do:
Art by Bond Adventures.
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She wanted to make up after a breakup. But her ex was a teacher, and he didn’t like that she barged into his classroom to force a confrontation:
He’d walked around the desk and I saw him pick up a long wooden pointer leaning against the wall. When he turned toward me with it in hand, I gasped and sprang to my feet.
“Brandon, you can’t—”
“Bend over the desk.” He’d never sounded so formidable and I obeyed without another word. Once I was back in place he began to walk around the desk. “You wanted to talk, so fine, we’ll talk. But first, you’re going to get spanked for disrespecting me. Don’t you dare reach back here or try to stop me or you’ll take the rest of your punishment on the bare. Are we clear?” He emphasized his point by tapping me on the bottom.
I grimaced, already imagining the burning line of fire that thing would ignite in my tender cheeks. “Yes, Sir. Brandon?”
“Yes, Karen?”
“I really am sorry. That didn’t go the way I planned.”
“I’m sure the irony of that isn’t lost on you, either.”
Before I could reply, I heard the pointer cut through the air. The first strike landed hard across my offered bottom and I let out a guttural cry, kicking my foot up reflexively. I quickly set it back down, breathing in sharply as my bottom burned. The next followed after a brief pause and I gasped for air. Thinking about what it would feel like on a bare bottom made me shudder. Each and every stroke felt like a nest of angry, stinging bees across my bottom. I quickly lost count of the strokes—I didn’t know how many it would take to absolve me, anyway—and instead focused on the searing pain. It didn’t take many before tears were pouring down my cheeks; it had as much to do with the last couple of days as it did the burn of the pointer.
“You’re doing so well, Karen. Just a few more.”
His praise lifted my heart as much as a caress would have done. He was talking to me like he loved me, which seemed impossible considering. Impossible or not, it gave me hope.
The next stroke landed across my sit spot and I couldn’t contain the yelp that emerged from my open mouth. “Ow!” I exclaimed, leaping to my feet, my hands shooting toward my injured bottom.
“Karen.”
I whirled to face him, eyes wide when I realized what I had done. “Brandon, please, no. I’m sorry, it was an accident.”
“I know that, sweetheart.”
Had he just—did he say—?
“Bend back over the desk. You’ll have to take these last three without your panties.”
I was crying anew as I resumed my position over the desk. As wonderful as it felt to be touched by him, I wished with every fiber in my being that it was for a different reason. I tensed and stayed that way as he draped my dress over my back to reveal my panties. I hadn’t even worn pretty ones, not that I’d thought there was a chance of him seeing them when I woke up this morning. Was it just me, or had he taken a little longer than was necessary to skim them down to my ankles?
“Be still for me, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I whimpered, closing my eyes tightly as though it would do something for the pain I knew was coming. I heard the stroke before I felt it—when it landed, I bit back a shriek. My skin felt scalded and as the pain registered, it only seemed to get worse. Brandon let me feel the full effect of the burning before whipping it through the air once more. This time, I couldn’t stop the yowl that tore through my lips as he placed a stroke right across my tender sit spot.
“Shh, shh. You’re doing so good. Last one, okay?”
I couldn’t speak. Tears were streaming down my face faster than I could blink them away so I merely nodded. The last stroke was the worst by far, landing hard over all the previously spanked skin. To my credit, I gripped the sides of the desk tightly and managed to hang on, even when the swat pushed me up on my tiptoes.
“You may get up now.”
I’d only just stood when I stumbled right into Brandon’s waiting arms. It felt so good to be in his arms again, it almost made me forget my throbbing behind. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed into his chest over and over again.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s all right now.
From Love Heals by Dinah McLeod.
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Her husband’s one concession to her sexual comfort after absolutely lighting up her ass and turning it cherry red is to let her get on top and ride him cowgirl-style:
Artwork is by Kamitora.
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This isn’t genuinely a caning photo, but it’s a nudist in a cane brake swinging a bamboo stalk and the editors couldn’t resist the kinky caption. “Ready to receive the cane?” Oh yes, darling, hand it over and turn around, please:
Found the picture in a 1980s nudist magazine, probably British, possibly Health And Efficiency (all guesses from various metadata clues).
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According the February 1968 issue of Yes magazine, Jill Cantwell and Carol Stuart have do a carnival sideshow nude wrestling act with a bit of catfighting. All I can say is yes, please!
The actual caption reads:
Carol Stuart and Jill Cantwell started out as carnival workers. They were always kidding around and one day, the boss asked them if they would like to put on a wrestling exhibition. They did; the customers went for it in a big way, and the gals began to get bookings at many other road and tent shows. But it’s all an act, for in their private lives, this pair get along famously. They have one ambition: they want to become “stunt women” in films. They’re training for that.
Do you miss the days of the traveling carnivals? Because suddenly, I do…
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