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This looks like a lot of fun for everyone involved. Although the guy with his cock in her wriggling ass while she gets her clitoris whacked with a riding crop is probably having the most fun:
I do rather wonder who the crop-wielding confederate is, though. Surely the lady herself is too distracted…
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Sometimes I really do miss porn tumblrs! This photo comes from those heady days, and shows a well-treated submissive with a sore bottom and a plug up her ass who used to post as Submissive Ginger:
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A lot of BDSM porn treats a cane or a whip or a paddle as a visual accessory. It’s present in the scene, and the model may have consented to get smacked with it, but for the director and the male talent it’s just a prop. It will get used briefly, or gently, or both. At most, a few light smacks to remind the model she’s supposed to writhe and whimper.
And that’s how this scene from Kink Prime seems to be starting out, at first. It’s set up as a very serious and rather intense bondage and anal sex scene, with a second dom standing over it, brandishing a cane for color and atmosphere. You might be forgiven for assuming that, as usual, the cane will be used to tap her breasts and belly a few times to remind her to squirm. You might indeed assume all that, but if you did, you would be oh-so-very wrong:
Who invited a sadist, and who handed him a cane? Who, indeed? The next time we see our well-striped heroine, her gag is off, but she’s not objecting. Indeed, she seems rather lost in the sensations of this whole “helpless bondage anal fuck-party” event. If “a sincere sadist with a whippy yellow cane” wasn’t already on her list of erotic triggers before this shoot, he’s surely on the list now!
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In the erotic romance novel A Bride For Two Brothers (D. W. Collins, 2013), our heroine Kelsey is on the run from an abusive cop. She holes up in Montana with a cook job on a remote ranch, but she didn’t stop to imagine what would happen when these two very old-fashioned men figured out she was on the run:
“Keep hold of her, Quint,” Marcus yelled as he got to his feet. He stepped next to his brother. “Look at what came over the wire at the sheriff’s office.” He waved the wanted poster overhead. “This little lady is wanted by the Chicago police.” Kelsey struggled futilely against Quinton’s iron grip.
“Well, well,” Marcus went on. “You tried to hide out here, but I’m going to warm your ass for trying to take advantage of us.” Without another word, Marcus pulled Kelsey away from his brother and took a seat on a big bale of straw.
She found herself bent over his lap in a second. At first he simply rested his calloused palm on her bare bottom. “You can’t do this,” Kelsey screamed. Marcus laughed and delivered a sharp smack directly on the widest part of her pale behind. She could not believe the fiery pain.
Marcus slapped again a couple of inches lower. “If you tell me to stop again, I will take you to the sheriff, and he’ll ship you back to Chicago. Is that what you want?” He stung her butt again. “What will it be, a butt warming or a night in jail? Speak up!”
She shook her head and groaned out a long wail. “I’d rather be spanked than sent back to Chicago.”
Marcus delivered another series of hard blows, and she wailed piteously. “Beller all you want,” he cried as he laid another blow to her pink bottom. “I’ll teach you to abuse our trust.” He spanked her again and this spank struck that exquisitely sensitive crease where a woman’s legs and buttocks join. “We know how to train little fillies like you.” She shrieked as rivulets of tears began to stream down her face. “Do you want to take a turn, Quint?”
The other man chuckled as he took the girl and transferred her to his broad lap. Kelsey could not believe her terrible luck. Of all the ranches she could have chosen, she picked a spread whose owners liked to spank helpless women. Could things get any worse? After a few more fiery spanks, Quinton directed his attention to her vulnerable thighs. They were soon as crimson colored as her bottom.
“How about it girl, what got you into trouble in Chicago?”
“I was stupid and fell for the wrong man,” Kelsey said as she frantically squirmed in a vain attempt to get away from Quinton’s powerful grip. She spent the next couple of minutes telling the Whittington brothers all about Carl and the ways he had abused her. She was so desperate that she held nothing back. “I loved him and I thought he loved me too, but it was a lie. He was sick and wanted a slave, not a lover. It was awful!” Her eyes darted from Quinton to Marcus and back. “Please, please don’t send me back to him. He’ll treat me worse than before.” Her body went limp, and she began to sob.
“Relax,” Quinton growled. Relaxing would have been much easier for Kelsey if she could not feel Quinton’s swollen cock pressing against her through the front of his tight jeans. She continued to squirm, but that only made his man flesh sprout more. “Did that circular accuse her of breaking any laws?” Quinton asked as he gently stroked the squirming girl’s soft brown hair to quiet her.
“No. It just said she was a material witness,” Marcus replied. “What are you thinking?”
“I think she’s a hell of a lot better cook than you are, and I think she may have learned her lesson.”
Marcus chuckled. He stepped next to Kelsey. “Have you learned your lesson, missy?” He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “Are you sorry?”
“I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” she moaned. Her eyes darted between the two men’s faces. “I will never do anything bad again.”
“Well, you know what will happen when you do,” Marcus said as his rough hand patted her sore bottom. “We’ll let you stay if you promise to not hide things from us.” He pulled her off his lap and pointed to a nearby corner. “Stand there and keep those hands on your head. If you move, I’ll take my belt to you. You need to just stand there and think about what you’ve done.”
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I found another whipping scene by Gottfried Sieben, but unlike the Orientalist themes we’ve seen from him before, this one has a sort of faux-classical vibe going on:
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This forest belt-spanking scene is from Slave Mines Of Tormunil, which is a 2002 Nexus novel by Aran Ashe:
They took Leah onwards through the woods. Her legs ached. She was naked and barefoot and kept falling behind. Cren became ever more irritable. After a long while they reached a green road through the pine trees. When Leah again stumbled Cren said he would teach her a lesson. He stripped his belt off and stood her with her belly against a tree. “Open your legs!” With tears in her eyes she did as her master asked. Her broken virginity-chain was dangling down from each side.
Skav helped her. “Put your arms around the tree. Clasp it with your knees. Put your cheek thus. Good.” He stepped aside. The first lash put her on tiptoes. “Chin up,” Skav encouraged her. “Keep looking at me with those lovely eyes.”
“Oooh!” she cried. The second lash stung her bottom like fire.
“Hear – the birds have stopped their singing just to listen.”
She could not see Skav’s face through her tears. Burning tongues licked her buttocks; her belly throbbed. She clasped the tree, straining on tiptoes. The rough scales of the tree bark pressed into her breasts; her nipples buried themselves in its furrows; her chains tinkled against the trunk. She heard the swish and tried to hold her breath. The leather smacked the breath from her lungs: her nipples popped out of the furrows. Then the fourth smack came – too quickly, too high; she could not breathe. Skav reached round the trunk, caught hold of the ends of her chain and opened her flaps against the tree trunk and held her like that.
“Across the tops of her legs, now. Hard!” he said.
“Nooo . . .” The smack buckled her knees and drove her open sex against the trunk. Then Leah collapsed in a heap, her mouth pressed against the bitter bark.
“Get up!” cried Cren.
She was on her knees, her hands pressed together, pleading. The lash caught the unprotected front of her belly.
“Enough, lad,” said Skav. He came to her and Leah crumpled against him with burning tears streaming down her cheeks. “Now you must thank your young master – with your mouth.”
Her lips could scarcely fit around it, so large had it become. Skav held her arms behind her back; Cren took her head in his hands. The semen that had dried upon his penis turned slippery in her mouth. The glans pushed back
over her tongue, harshly and urgently seeking her throat. Her lips clamped tightly round the stem. Her bottom burned. Skav’s hand reached round and sought her belly, sought her splayed slit. “Our little minx is getting wet again.”
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Hey, I can’t swear that spanking this woman’s ass until it turned red was a holiday decorating project, but she is wearing a Christmas-red top and… are those reindeer on the pajamas around her ankles?
Photo is from Real Spankings.
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