Why do some people handle life better than others. Why can they make good life decisions. Why can they feel sad and then get over it. Why do other people get depressed and have anxiety and then feel like life is spiraling out of control but feel powerless to change it.
Wonder if the subs in DD relationships still have those moments. Does knowing there are consequences to their decisions help keep them on track. Does life feel in control.
Missed out on an amazing job opportunity because applied late. Down we go. Missed work. Have no sick time left which means less pay. Won't be able to pay bills. So then let's go out and binge eat. One bad Decision after another. Further down we go.
I do have a genuine interest in the dynamics of a DD relationship. It seems like a person with certain mentalities could really benefit.
My 3 am thought of the day.
When I look through hundreds of videos to decide on fantasy fulfillment, I have developed a brief criteria to help me decide if the media is woth the investment of time - or money. Enjoy!
Spanking videos have a wealth of angles to exploit, but there are a few masters. Bad Tushy, Firm Hand, and Michael Masterson really get it. Personally, if I can see the facial anguish of the bottom, the stern, scolding face of the top, and the horizon of the butt’s curve (just enough to see the wiggle), I’m hooked. And if you throw in kicking, bare feet, I’m sold!
I weep when I watch the beautiful Amber Olsen spank in poor lighting and film conditions… or the perfect switching in the woods, at dusk, when darkness conceals the raw whipping that deserves an Academy Award. Producers, these girls (and boys) who get their butts busted for us deserve better. Do it right!
Corporal punishment is emotionally charged and unpredictable. Good talent can roll with the brutal hits, scream with genuine anguish, rub when needed, and sob at the proper time.
It’s the fabric of who we really are when no one is watching. It’s the last barrier to the bare intimacy that we protect. Its removal is sacred – and damn sexy too!
I’m not talking about superfluous dialog and complex plots. Just real, authentic situations that connect the story emotionally to the consumer. Lupus makes the story the hallmark of its productions and still delivers on great perspective, quality production, and the last of our great element – hits.
Full follow through and loud cracks of wood, leather, and open palms are always crowd pleasers. Buttocks beginning to red and swollen welts capture the viewr’s imagination. But be wary: threshold is key. When you get into mutilation of the body, the enthusiasm thins and your in the wrong genre.
Disclaimer, this is all information that for me personally is true and I have found to be effective with those I often discipline!
A punishment spanking should be a spanking that the spankee does not want to receive again! For many being disciplined, this doesn’t mean you have to beat them silly. Build it up! Confront the spankee with the offense and tell them that they will be spanked for it. Scold or lecture them however long you see fit, but try to avoid “beating the dead horse”. Laying them over your lap for this can help them get into the headspace and start that heart racing for what’s to come.
If you start off full-force/hard enough that within the first five or so swats the spankee is thinking “holy shit what did I get myself into I can’t take this!”, you hit the panic button! It’s that little panic that can send many a spankee kicking, squirming, and even begging. It could be 30 seconds of “hairbrush hell” but it would be effective in making the spankee think twice before repeating the offense! The entire time of course they must feel safe, and know that the end will come and they will survive and be better for it. Always remember to make the punishment fit the crime, even small offenses can earn a panic button without over-spanking. And trust me it’s less frustrating for both parties that the offense is less likely to be repeated! I know I feel disappointed in myself if I make an offense I was already spanked for. And I don’t know about all of you, but I would rather get one punishment spanking than several for the same thing! And though I rather enjoy doling out discipline, it’s also so wonderful to know that you gave a spanking good enough to warrant the continued good behavior.
The panic button is best when left only for punishment, I’ve found, unless you crave the instant stress relief that it can give as well. It can also be used in response to any bratting during a maintenance spanking! Only takes a few hard swats to tame most brats… for a while!
My eye level back in 1977 was considerably lower than it is today, and looking head on into 17-year old Patty Thornburg's thighs was the first time I remember wanting to be spanked.
For days that summer, I dreamed about being pulled over those brown, sun-kissed knees and getting whacked hard and fast with my shorts pulled down. I could feel her firm, warm lap beneath my grinding, semi-erect penis. The heat from the friction made her skin perspire and the moisture dampened my white undies. Perhaps it was the closest thing to an orgasm I could have felt at that time.
It's not 1977 anymore. My spanking fantasies have still remained only in my imagination and I still blush a little when I get absorbed in daydream where I'm on the bottom to a female top.
I don't know whatever happened to Patty. Like me, she probably had some wild years, experimental adventures, and eventually settled down to make a nice life with someone.
But she is permanently in my backstory; the thundering velvet hand I still feel on my butt each time a spanking fantasy spawns an erection. And I love that.
- jobo 10.21.17
where to begin???? ....
was supposed to go to one of my granddaughters bday parties this weekend but daves bday is the 24th so we always go to Pa n bring his son back here for the weekend before his bday so I had to decline the party ..somethin I never do... but it turned out we didn't go this weekend so this am I messaged my son n said id be at the party ( THINKIN it was tomorrow)..... then I went outside with dave where we worked all day on putting a storage shed together ... talk about stress!! mostly from listenin to him huff n bitch .. bout 3pm one of my daughters pulls up lookin concerned.. seems the party was TODAY n I hadn't showed up n everyone had been tryin to reach me when I wasn't there ( especially after sayin I would be)... so she had come to check.. behind her pulls up one of my sons.. n behind him another daughter ( lil laugh NOW)... after I assured them I was ok n it was a misunderstandin they left.. we came in the house around 6pm n I checked my phone ( had no pockets so had left it inside)... 8 messages, 12 missed calls, 17 concerned messages on messenger... I felt horrible for havin worried everyone n even worse for missin my lil misses bday party...that was today..we got it all done cept the roof that we will do tomorrow
so many ups n downs with Dave n I.. theres days hes tolerable n other days where I literally hate him... just yesterday I had messaged him about somethin n said I wanted to talk bout it after work.. told him I didn't wanna lecture.. didn't want sarcasm ( which hes great about doin when I'm bein serious n have no room for that nonsense)... so first there were 3 separate times I tried to talk to him about a few other things where he cut me right off n talked like I hadn't been talkin at all..........after seethin about half hr I tried again only to have him walk out the room while I was talkin... later I got around to bringin up what id wanted to talk about n right away the sarcasm started.. then the lecture *BIG FUCKIN GRRRR*.. so I gave up n pulled up a movie on my laptop to watch.. bout 20 mins later he says "ur quiet".... I rolled my eyes n thought "really???"....
I left my ex in 2008.. it was hard at first but we managed to put it all behind us n remain friends.. hes made it no secret that he wants me back... hes had 2 failed relationships after our breakup n both were because he told them both "if my wife ever would take me back id be gone in a heartbeat"... well ya can guess how that settled with them .. we still call each other on bdays n to say Happy Birthday n we still see each other at some bday parties, family reunions n our big Christmas party each yr... well he calls me on Monday ..I can tell hes depressed as we talk.. he tells me he needs me back in his life...that he was an ass to ever let me go... that hes sorry for all he did n didn't do..tells me I don't know how much it drives him nuts to know anyone else is touchin me... I was feelin very uncomfy n tried devertin the convo to our kids n grandkids but he kept bringin it back to "us" ... says " I love n miss u woman"....I did my best to lift his spirits... I told him its great that we have remained friends n I'm always here if he needs me to talk to...the call finally came to an end but I still felt horrible bout the way he was feelin so I called my son who lives nearby his dad n asked him to go over n just hang out with him a bit n make sure hes ok.... n even then .. I still felt lousy....
I did go to a comedy show on Wed night with some of my family... we saw Tom Green.. LOTS of laughs... bad part was I was up at 2am that day for work...got out of work by 1.. went straight to my youngest daughters house n babysat for her while she took the baby for a drs visit... then to the market, then home to make dinner, shower n get ready.. we left here at 740pm as the show started at 9.. got there half hr early.. didn't get home again til nearly 11:15 then had to get up again the next day for 3am UGH.. killer day!!
kinda let the stress get to me this past week n kinda did somethin that I tend to do when it builds up too much for me... *lil sigh*..
that "Daddy" need has been unbearable lately... I'm feel obsessed.. I need that one person I can "let go" to ..
anyways... that's been my past week............n ty for all who left me a lil message checkin up on me.. *warm smiles*
It was Tuesday and I was to report for my punishment at precisely 19:00.
When i arrived, as I had been instructed by email, I knocked on the door and walked in. This was to tell Master that I was here. I proceeded to undress, slipped the belt off my trousers and took it with me when I went to the bedroom.
The bed was ready with a couple of pillows in the centre so I could lay down on my belly offering my butts for punishment when Master would decide to come in.
I placed the belt at the foot of the bed as instructed, it was my old thin belt that Master loved to use on me: the leather was soft and he usually took the buckle in his palm and rolled the belt around his hand until he had about a foot and a half to swing full force on my behind.
I laid on the bed face down for what felt like a long time when I finally heard Master walking in. I sensed the belt being removed from the bed and suddenly a strike hit my backside... the blow took a few seconds to start burning then nothing: Master loved to see the welt form before giving the next blow... this was repeated about 20 times when the strikes kept on falling at a rapid succession: I figured I had taken enough single blows so the welts would not form any more...
I lost track of the number but I knew I was there for 6 dozens with a two minutes pause between sets, so when the next break came on I thought I would endure one more set before the end.
Wrong, I was assigned a extra dozen for excessive movements taking the punishment and I was told that 12 more would follow if I kept on moving.
So even with the burning pain becoming more acute that I felt I was biting on the pillow under my head hoping my body would stay still enough to avoid the extra blows.
I must have managed it as when the set ended I heard an order to get up, get dressed and leave.
I waited a couple of minutes to gain my composure and proceeded to the hall way where I had left my clothes on the floor when I arrived, got dressed and walked out.
I had mot really seen Master as he went back in his living room after the punishment and the walk home was somewhat a painful reminder of the punishment : my trousers rubbing on my bare butts when walking were irritating and somehow prolonging the punishment...
My brother Josh was furious. He stood 6'1" his shaggy brown hair never in place his usual happy go lucky smile was gone. His green eyes blazed with fury as he looked at me. I winced. This was not going to go well. "So," he started in a deadly calm voice which chilled me to the bone. "Do you want to explain to me why somebody else told me about your cutting?" I looked away and shook my head. "Danielle Theresa." I knew I was pushing the limit then.
"I was scared Joshie." I stuttered out.
"Do you realize how much trouble you are in for hiding this from me? I'm your older brother and your best friend. You know that cutting and lying both have consequences Dani."
"I didn't lie." I whispered.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over his left leg with my upper body laying on the bed.
"Concealing things is no better than lying." He patted my butt then seconds later a painful swat landed right on the center of my ass. "You better get comfortable we're going to be here a while." I whimpered and buried my face in my arms. It didn't take long for him to start full out spanking me with his hand his thin fingers leaving behind stinging streaks like I was being swatted with a switch. He hit in the same place three times before moving on to the next spot spanking from the top of my ass to my upper thighs. I whimpered and muttered ows here and there while he continued the onslaught of my pajama clad bottom he didn't waste time with words. After several minutes of spanks he stood me up and made me look into his eyes. "You have a choice Dani, you either get me your brush or I use my paddle." I shook my head.
"Joshie please." I begged "I won't hide anything from you again."
"That's not going to work this time little sister. I can't let you get away with this. I love you to much to have you hurt yourself or ever be anything less than honest. What you did was wrong Kiddo. You know that and you know you deserve this punishment." I looked down tears were welling up in my eyes. "Now either you choose or I use both." My eyes snapped back to his.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I raised my voice. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a look. I rolled my eyes. "Brush."
"Go get it." I sighed and obeyed. He had his hand out waiting, so I handed him the brush. He pulled me over his left knee again then did something I didn't expect: he pulled down my pajama pants.
"No! Joshua Kyle fuck you that's not right!" He never did that before. It was something I definitely wasn't expecting. He went still.
"Excuse me? What did you just say?" His voice was quiet and I flinched. Oh no.
He pulled me closer to him. "You just made this so much worse." I grabbed the back of his shirt with my left hand and buried my face in my right preparing myself for the worst. I didn't have to wait long before he started swatting my rear end with that wooden brush keeping a fast pace swatting randomly so I couldn't predict it. I was crying and struggling then I decided it would be a good idea to reach back and block my ass. "No ma'am." He said as he gently twisted my arm behind my back he held my right hand with his left. "Why are you getting this spanking?"
I cried and tried to answer. "I cut and hid it from you. Please bubba no more."
"No ma'am. We've been doing this dance for years apparently it hasn't had a long lasting effect. So now I'm forced to be a bit harsher. Plus we still have to address you cursing at me and being disrespectful. Don't think I forgot Kiddo. I will tell you we are more than halfway done. I love you kiddo and it's time I show you just how much." He gave my right hand a squeeze then continued the onslaught but this time focused on my sit spots and upper thighs. I whaled and steadily started crying harder. After a couple minutes he stopped.
"Please tell me we're done, Joshie please." He let me up and met my eyes.
"You have 26 swats with my belt coming then we're done. I promise."
"No Nisa please not the belt. Please!" I begged and he just shook his head. Josh then stood up and pulled off his brown leather belt and doubled it over.
"Bend over." I obeyed crying extremely hard. He took a deep breath pulled down my panties and started the belting, the first swat felt like a blazing fire on my already sore ass. I cried out, he kept a slow pace this time allowing the sting to build before swatting again. I went limp and sobbed, as a honestly contrite naughty girl should. He had done it. He had spanked the rest of the rebelliousness out of me along with my guilt and emotional pain. He landed the last swat in the dead center of my ass then I heard him drop the belt out of his hand. He sat next to where I was and rubbed my back.
"Pull up your pjs and panties lil one." I obeyed sobbing and muttering apologies. He stood me up and made me meet his eyes. "Don't you EVER hide ANYTHING from me again. Am I clear?"
I sobbed. "Crystal Sir."
"As for the cutting you tell someone BEFORE you do it when you want to. Someone will always talk you down from it. Understood?"
"Y-yes Sir." He pulled me into his arms and sat me on his lap I cried harder as more sore butt met his jeaned thigh and hugged him tight.
"I punish you because I love you kiddo and I don't want to lose you. This recklessness has to stop. You are so important." I nodded and started calming down.
"Could you love me a little less? Shit, my ass feels like ground hamburger." He started laughing and kissed the top of my head.
"No chance kiddo." He helped me up and led me to my desk. He put a notebook in front of the desk chair and pointed. "Sit. You're writing lines." I knew better than to argue so I gave my older brother a small smile and sat down.
Today is a show day, Sir and I are fire performers.You would think that after all of these years I spent performing that I wouldn't still feel anxious before shows, however that's not the case. I tend to get short or snippy, but today I am trying to put this here to settle my nerves a little bit, because in all actuality I absolutely love performing with Sir, I feel so close to him when we are doing our duets. We have been performing together for only a few years, before that he did all the behind the scene work, which is a lot of work, but when I asked him to start corigraphing together so we could both perform in the shows he loved the idea, so since then it's been so much more fun. We had rehearsal last night and I slipped up with my fire hoop several times, so Sir made me do it again a little while later, so now today I'm hoping that I don't miss any tricks with it. We both agree that anything less than perfection durring any performance is unacceptable. After all people don't pay that much money to see mistakes. Thus I'm very anxious today. Mostly because I really hate to drop a prop on fire durring a show, so I try to save it at all costs which has ended badly a few times, the audience never notices, however Sir always does,and in the end I know it's not worth getting burnt by hit metal to save from dropping it, but my perfectionist always wins out. I don't get punished for not being perfect durring shows, but I do get seriously punished for taking stupid chances that could get me burnt. I'm just hoping to get my anxiety in check and have the strength to drop the props if I make a mistake. I'd much rather get good girl's and hugs and kisses than be in trouble after the show. Wish me luck
This morning Master decided on a change of position.
Telling me to kneel on the floor and bare my bottom. He stood over me, tightly on my hips, facing my bottom.
When suddenly 60 quick, very hard hits started whipping across each cheek. I tried to move but his legs were so tight, I could not move an inch.
Stinging, burning, sharp and quick.
I tried to count to 30 but then he continued, I got confused as the pain muggled my head.
Just as quickly it started, it soon stopped, and my ass certainly felt sore then.
Master stepped over me as I stood up, thanking him for my spanking.
‘ Did you notice you got more, it was 60 today as we didn’t do yesterday’s. “ he said.
Ahhhhh yes of course. I’d forgotten it was missed then, trust Master not to forget this, he has a very very good memory. I think he enjoyed this spanking, and though it was sharp and stingy, I did enjoy it and the after effects. Even now 6 hours later, I can feel a slight sting on my cheeks and I can remember each stingy swat with that darn crop.
I’ve tried to upload a large album today (90 pics) but only 20 appeared. The album is to show a certain person on this site how easy and effective the white blouse cane look is. For a switch like me it can suit both top and bottom although the pics I have shared are all Domme’s.
Let me know what you think!
The cane...stick of pain.
Hurts so much!!!
Only second to a cable
Used on my ass-
Just this morning
Lost my temper
The warning he gave
Sent to the room...
Awaiting my punishment!!!
Scared to death...
Regretting what I said
A serious offense
I'll be spanked with!!!
So fearfully I sat
The circles of fire
That cable left...
Sir surprised me-
Used the cane instead
The stick of pain-
Struck my ass!!!
Heat radiating from beneath
Fighting to reach the surface
Dodging each time...
Too me the cane-
Hurts the most!!!
Second to a cable
Hitting so hard!!!
Thankfully my thighs-
Sit spots were spared
Sir focused on my bottom
Putting lines of fire...
All over my poor ass!!!
Hurting so much
Yet feeling better
Because I deserved it
I earned every line
Every single mark
By a big-heavy-thick-
In the shape of a stick
Sir calmly wielded...
The stick of pain!!!
Sir was really mad...
Never touched me-
No orgasms or pleasure
Pain only this time
I don't want sex after-
So I was ok...thank goodness
Sir calmed down-
Using a cane on my ass
The stick of pain!!!
(Not My Bottom...)
Years ago I wrote some SpankFic, originally for my own amusement. I posted some on the old boards at spanking.com, bondage.com, and spanko.com where the reaction was generally gratifying. I see some writing here that I have enjoyed, Janie, so I thought I would try something here. What follows is based on my real relationships with a real spanky girl. I have written from her viewpoint, including inner dialogue that seems to represent her views of my actions when I was her Daddy-Dom.
I am dividing this story into manageable chunks. I will try to post every other day around 5 PM Eastern Time Please let me know what you think.
I’ll have to tell Daddy. I don’t want to. I’m afraid he will be mad, but if I don't tell him right away and he finds out later, then I will be in trouble for sure. I shouldn't be in trouble now. Everything I did was good, all things he likes me do. I was outdoors in the nice weather. I got a lot of healthy exercise. I think I almost killed myself.
I packed a sandwich and my water bottle, grabbed a book, hopped on my bike and headed down the river trail to where Piney Creek joins the river. There is a great spot up in the woods where I can sit and be alone, read, and watch the deer. And no cell service, so no interruptions. But it is on the other side of the creek. I have always come to it on the other side, from the road, not the bike trail. Now I had to cross the creek. It looked easy, not deep. So I grabbed my pack and started across. Not deep, knees maybe. Except where it was deeper. I put a foot down and it didn’t reach the bottom. So I flailed for another spot, hit a slippery rock, and fell flat on my backpack. That knocked the wind out of me and scared some other stuff out me at the same time. I crawled back to my bike and stood there until I stopped shaking with fear and dripping creek water. Then I pedaled home. Now I have to tell Daddy. And he will want to make a bunch of silly Rules.
I told him, just like I told you, then in my best Very Little Girl voice I asked, “Daddy, am I in trouble?”
There was a terrible pause. I figured he was calculating just how bad it was going to be. “No, JoLynn, you aren’t this time. You were trying to be good, to do good things. You aren’t in trouble for that. BUT. It was dangerous. Down there by yourself. If you had been injured, what would you have done? So, there is now a new Rule: When you go somewhere, you must tell me where you are going and when you expect be back. Understood?”
What I understand is that when Daddy makes a Rule, I better say, “Yes, Daddy,” no matter how much I hate the Rule or how stupid I think it is.
I have been obeying this dumb rule. I text to say I am going to the bank. I email to say I am going to the beach. Daddy answers, “Good girl!”
Now I want to go shoe shopping. This shouldn’t be a problem. Except that Daddy thinks I have too many shoes. If I tell him I bought some shoes, he asks how many I got rid of. I try to explain that’s not how it works, but he doesn’t understand.
So I went to Shoe Tree. Just a quick trip. I’m not going to break my leg and drown at the mall. Daddy really doesn't need to know. All I got was sparkly pink ballet flats and orange tennies to go with my new pink short-all. And home in perfect safety.
Daddy is stopping by this morning. I’m dressed as his cute little, little girl in a pink sundress and the sparkly flats.
“Good morning, JoLynn. I want to tell you how proud of you I am for obeying the new Rule and telling me where you are going.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” Does he see how much I am blushing?
“Those shoes are cute with that dress. Are they new?”
“Sort of. Would you like some ice tea, Daddy?” Gotta change the subject.
“No, thank you. Is this the box for them? With this receipt, dated yesterday, when you didn't tell me about going anywhere?”
Busted! “Yes, Daddy.”
He’s talking very quietly. I am so scared.
Busted! For ignoring that stupid Rule. Which is why Daddy is now leading me back the hall toward my bedroom, leading me by the ear, which is usually a pretty bad sign. No shouting, also a bad sign. Just pulled over one knee so I am half-sprawled across my bed. I feel the hem of my cute little pink sundress being flipped up across my back. I doubt the lacey frills on my panties are going to make much difference. Crap! I hear him rattling around in the Bad Drawer of my nightstand. That’s how we talk about it together. I call it the Bad Things Drawer because all the things he keeps in there are pretty bad. He calls it the Things for a Bad Girl Drawer. So we sort of compromised.
Suddenly I am thinking of Johnny Cash, because there is a Ring of Fire in the middle of my right bottom cheek. I know that feeling all too well: the hairbrush. I think he likes the loud smack it makes, That and the fact that after a session with this brush I tend to behave exactly as he wants me to. I don’t like anything about it.
“I had just finished telling you how proud I was of you obeying the new Rule, when I find out that you deliberately broke it.” Another burning circle on the left cheek. The sound echoes in the room.
“I made the Rule so I can help keep you safe.” Another swat, overlapping about half with the first, but a little lower.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I just suddenly realized I needed shoes to go with this dress, so I ran out to the mall without thinking about telling you. It’s really safe there.” I’m not really sorry. He would have told me I don’t need more shoes. What I don’t need is this dumb rule.
“I made the rule because you sometimes make bad, unsafe decisions. (Back to the left cheek) I want the chance to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Right cheek. Damn! This brush hurts.) That means you obey the Rule (Right) or you don’t go. (Left)
He finally stopped. I don’t know how many. I lost count somewhere past 12 because I was too busy crying. Now I’m standing here in this corner, told not to rub, toes touching the walls, nose touching both walls so I can’t look around to see if he is watching. This would probably not be a good time for me to test him. Plus, I am grounded for two weeks. Grounded means I am not allowed to leave the house without permission from Daddy. And I will only get permission for actual important stuff, like going to the bank or a doctor. To make sure I don’t cheat, I have to check in when I get up and then every half hour all day. By Skype or some other video service so he can see my house in the background. Stupid Rules.
Whilst I was doing my sketch this morning, Master was watching behind me.
“ How about we change the sketch from daily to weekly, and we can have a Friday Sketch Reveal Day. Then you can spend more time on each sketch, working on the details. I don’t mean I don’t think they’re good, they are, they’re very good, but sometimes there are times when things look odd. Hands and feet need a bit of work. “
I laughed, “ Yes, they’re very hard sometimes. “
“ You can spend time filling the whole page, so if it’s a bedroom scene, add the stuff you would find, wardrobes, windows, curtains. That sort of thing. Having a week to do it will give you more time to really get it detailed. “
I think I must have looked puzzled, so he told me to bring yesterdays sketch and see what its like.
The sketch was the girl on the settee, with a bath brush by her side.
So he said, “ I could try putting more design on the settee, the hands are definitely odd. It’s just a way of improving your talent in art. ‘
“ Okay, I will do that. Starting from when ? Today ? “ I asked.
“ No start from tomorrow. “ Master said. “ I know your fans will miss seeing your daily art work, but I think they will appreciate seeing detail. If it takes you a day to draw a pair of hands, it doesn’t matter, coz you have a week to do it. “
I am a bit nervous about this, I desperately want to make amends after my behaviour yesterday, and I want to make him proud. I do enjoy doing my sketches, somedays I can be doing them all day, in-between doing chores. Master thinks I’m past drawing poster style sketches like the one I did on Wednesday, but maybe I can do them occasionally, adding more detail to the picture. So from tomorrow thats the plan, if anyone has any other websites they know have great pictures in, please let me know. I’ve been told about Tumblr today, which I discovered was very good. But any other sites or ideas will be great.
Sent from my iPad
DirtySerf had been misbehaving for some time and during her morning spanking, she wriggled, covered her tits and swore a lot.
Master set some lines for her to do, but she had no chair.
Instead, Master slid her panties down, lifted her skirt up, told her to bend over and lean on the table.
Whilst she wrote her lines, Master thrashed her ass with his leather strap. It was incredibly hard for DirtySerf to concentrate on writing neatly whilst her ass burned and the pain so intense, but she did it. She needed to make Master proud and forgive her.
He lay the strap across her bottom, and gently stroked her hair, as she sobbed quietly, and carried on writing.
She was very sorry for her actions and will try harder.