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New photographer

Posted at 21:06 on 1 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I'm in discussions with a new photographer about working together for my work-in-progress spanking site. I've got some ideas for photo galleries which draw on the aesthetics of high fashion, classical art, and modern grunge style to create some iconic punishment and D/s imagery, and I've been looking for the photographer to realise them.

I'm toying with the idea of moving away from the inevitable film + stills format. As someone who's worked in both photo modelling and film acting, it seems to me that taking stills distracts from the energy of a good film shoot - and if you want to focus on gorgeous stills, your priorities are very different from when you're filming. If you're doing them well, stills and film each need different lighting setups, different mentalities from actors and camera technicians. Although both film and a photogallery for each scenario is expected, I'm not sure it's necessary. As a viewer, I'd be perfectly happy with screencaps and a dozen nice promo images to accompany a spanking film - a few sites do this already, and don't seem to suffer for it. If I've watched the film, I don't need to click through 100+ photos as well. As far as I'm concerned, photos accompanying a film are mostly for promotion and sharing. I'd rather have a smaller number of high-quality photo galleries which visually stand out, than endless photostories tacked onto films which replicate the same scenario. I don't know if I'm alone on this one, but either way, as someone who's come to spanking porn via the art nude and fetish fashion modelling industry, I have a clear idea of the visuals I'm looking for in photographic erotica - and high standards.

All three of the photographers I've worked with so far have been excellent, and I intend to use them again. But I'm all about variety, and ideally I'd like a stable of photographers with different styles and strengths, so I can pick and choose the best photographer to suit each project. Oh, and while I'm at it, a pony wouldn't go amiss either ;)

I love Daniel's work, and am thrilled that he's interested. He's not photographed spanking stories before, but he's no stranger to the kink scene and I think his style could work really well with my ideas. I'm aiming to book a shoot sometime in the next couple of months (I need to save up first!) to see how we work together. I'm looking forward to working with him - and I'll let you know how it goes!

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Tags: Daniel R, fetish art, other pictures, porn production


School dreams

Posted at 10:52 on 8 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Sorry I've been a bit quiet lately - I came down with an evil cold bug last Tuesday and it hasn't gone away yet. Partially this is because I'm in denial and keep trying to keep going. Partially it's because I live on a loud street and when I do finally give in to my friends' advice and say "fuck it, I'm going to bed", I can't actually sleep until things quieten down sometime around midnight. Not being able to sleep when you're sick is rubbish. Although I'm sure I don't feel as bad as the lovely AJR, who is having a rotten time of it and deserves your hugs and sympathy much more than I do.

Unfortunately, my sleeping problem at the moment is compounded by randomly waking up at 7am every morning, which would be great normally, but not when I'm trying to get better and only managed to drop off six hours ago. I'm usually very good at lie-ins but lately the coughing has kept me awake. This morning, though, I managed to actually doze off again (hooray!), at which point I had a few hours of very vivid school dreams.

It started with my entry to the school aged ten, a tender boy spending his first night in a scary private school. It wasn't much like my school - the dream was set longer ago than the 90s, for a start, and my school didn't have boarding - but bits of it looked similar. In my dream, the first night was terrifying. Lying awake on his narrow dormitory bed (for some reason, the first years in this dream all slept on camp beds - only second years and up got proper beds) staring up into the shadows of the high ceiling, too nervous to sleep. Hearing the stories about things the teachers did, what happened if you got into trouble...

Over the first term, my dream self tried hard to make his teachers proud. But he couldn't seem to work out how to fit in with the other students. Eventually, interpersonal conflicts and tensions became so intense that he took to hiding inside during break and lunchtime, nose in a book in the library or - better - in the privacy of an unused music practice room. Unfortunately, lower school pupils weren't allowed to stay inside at breaktimes without permission. When he was caught by a teacher or prefect he earned himself a whacking on the spot - and a reputation for stubborn disobedience when, despite persistent punishment, he continued to hide indoors rather than brave the society of his peers.

Skip ahead a few years. Now, my dream self is older and female - but still far from the most popular kid in her class. An art lesson quickly became unpleasant when a bully started mocking her over the rumour that she once orgasmed from a punishment spanking. More and more classmates joined in the joking: the teacher hadn't even started yet, she was just tapping her behind with a leather paddle, and my alter-ego was so overwhelmed she came on the spot. I don't even know whether the rumours had any truth - the teasing hit a nerve, and my dream self was unbearably humiliated.

Later still, a sixth-former now, daring to rebel. A friend and I concocted a plan to sneak into town during a free study period and join a neighbouring school's cinema outing. We had some uniforms that were close enough to pass, and we intended to sneak in with the crowd and enjoy the film. Unfortunately, the cinema staff recognised our faces. Once attention was shone on us, it became clear that we didn't belong. We were told to wait in the lobby while they called our school. My friend and I took one look at each other and ran for it. We sprinted across town, giddy with fear and exhiliration, and ended up losing each other in the dash through the streets. I sneaked back on my own through the school gates and took refuge in my old hiding place in the music school, in one of the newer practice rooms. I waited there for a full hour, heart pounding, for the bell to ring so I could rejoin my class.

The punchline? Sadly, not a well-earned punishment - instead, when I glanced at the clock I realised it was already 17:45, and school had already finished. I'd been hiding inside for no reason - I may as well have got the bus home straight from the cinema! The problem with dreams is that they're often disappointing :)

I woke up with a head swimming with school punishment images, even though the dream contained no actual, explicit punishment scenes. Most of the dream's vividness came from the emotional tension, and my full immersion in the remembered, evocative rooms and hallways and courtyard of my actual school. The most surreal thing is, my school changed premises a few years after I left. I don't know what's happened to the old building, but the school I went to isn't there any more. My dreams occupy those buildings more than I'd expect, and every time, when I wake, I'm startled to remember that it's a ghost school. No pupils sit in those classrooms any more - they probably aren't even classrooms, these days. The school I remember only exists in the dreams and memories of the people who attended it; no new pupils will share those experiences. Kind of weird, when you think about it.

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Tags: Fantasies, Photos, school uniform, Sound Punishment


Spanking360 and male submission

Posted at 11:17 on 9 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I was intrigued to read on the Cherry Red Report about Audrey Knight's newest spanking project, Spanking360. Bravely, Audrey intends to take a similar approach to the one that I'm working on for my own site - combining F/m, F/f, M/f and (some) M/m under a single umbrella, with carefully calibrated browsing options so that people only see the content they're interested in. Audrey writes,

I dont see much male bottoming on major sites, and always wanted to see a little more. To make sure I keep a good balance of genres, I ran a poll on my blog, asking viewers to choose their top two favorite kinds of spankings (F/F, F/M, etc.) I found that F/F was tied with F/M, to my surprise, with M/F spanking popularity trailing behind, and a 5% vote for M/M spankings.

I know that many male tops are offended by seing male bottoms, so Ive devised a system to separate the male bottoming section from the female bottoming section and will include a tiny bit of non-gay M/M spanking there, too.

I thought I was the only producer considering such a step, so it's exciting and reassuring to me that Audrey agrees that the current norm of total segregation between femsub and malesub content is unnecessary - and thinks that the market will back her up. Here's a clip from her first M/m shoot:

I'm not sure what either of these models are called, but presumably we'll find out when the site goes live.

Seeing as I'm a big old queer who loves perving over two hot blokes together, I'm a little disappointed by the big "non-gay" disclaimers plastered all over the discussions of any M/m content - but I assume that this arises not from any prejudice on Audrey's part, but a simple recognition that some people are still uncomfortable with the idea of seeing two men together in a sexual way. As it happens, I think there's space for a lot more non-sexual M/m spanking content - the only quality material is currently found on gay sites, and so there's a gap in the market for restrained, formal, realistic punishment scenarios between, say, prefect/fag, headteacher/schoolboy, employer/boss or any of those other staples of femsub spanking porn which have no overt sexual interaction. But I wouldn't say no to seeing a little sexy stuff between the boys thrown in as well - and I suspect a lot of women and queer men will agree with me!

In the meantime, I'm excited by the promise of F/m content with a focus on D/s and loving domestic discipline as well as straight punishment:

The tone of this clip has a lot of potential, but I was very disappointed not to see Stefan's face once during the whole trailer. How are we meant to connect to him if we can't see his expression or look into his eyes? I'd have liked to see a little more reaction from Stefan as well, especially during the severe spankings - although we do get a tantalising glimpse of him kicking while OTK.

Of course, Spanking360 also promises loads of more traditional F/f and M/f content, and the list of models on their preview page is already impressive (although sadly excludes the male models featured in the above clips). Quibbles aside, I wish Audrey and her team every success. The more sites like this are prepared to buck the trend and include quality malesub content alongside scenes featuring female spankees, the healthier this industry will be.

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Tags: Audrey Knight, dominance and submission, F-M, Female gaze, Gender politics, M-M, making a scene, Spanking360, Videos


e[lust] #19

Posted at 11:30 on 10 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Photo courtesy of Emmy

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether youre looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, youre going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #20? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Weeks Top Three Posts ~

The Rules - She squirmed in her chair as if impaled there by my finger slowly pushing in and out. But I can tell you that on our third date, I want something a lot bigger than your finger in me.

Consensual Nonconsent - He told me he was going to do whatever he wanted to me, and he wanted me to not give consent. He wanted to take it from me. He wanted me to say no, and the less l liked something the harder it would make him.

Love and light - So I move on, not as a submissive, but as the smart mature strong woman that I know that I am. I will credit him with changing me. Changing the way I see myself.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Confessional: Annual Reminder - In the dark, in the car, in the parking lot of a somewhat posh store, he got a fantastic blowjob as uptight conservatives drove past us.

~ Featured Post (Lillys Pick) ~

What's Been Eating Emmy - A yearly test is good for most, but if you find you are playing with a larger than usual number of people, go get retested. Put yourself and your future partners mind at ease.

See also: Pleasurists #92 and #93 for all your sex toy review needs.

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationship

Adventures in Buttsex
Beginner Anal Positions
Clever Slut
Ever Changing
Jane Says: Take A2M Precautions
The Big Poly Secret - The Kreplit Famine
The P-Spot is the New Male Orgasm
Vaginal Cosmetic Surgery
What is Love?

Erotic Writing

"...is Hard to Do"
Bathroom Blowjobs
Dance of The Veil(Erotic Fiction Writing)
Erotica: A "Break In" - Fantasy pt1
Foreplay An Erotic Beginning
Her Birthday
In Plain Sight...
Just a Friend
Loki At Play
Lydia and the Wrong Stockings
my turn
Mike & Jenny In The Bookstore
On Fucking Jesus
School Detention
Trust Me
The Ordeal (Part Three)
The Heat of the Moment
The Closet
The Lioness
The Belt
The Brazilian
The Show
Voyeur ISO....

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A New Day
Interview with Athena Hollow of Geek Girls Online
KSLs 2nd Anniversary
My Evening Out
What Happened?

Kink & Fetish

A Drink and A Smoke
Begging, Pleading
Dangerous Rope
Day 1- Define Your Kinky Self
How To Find A Mistress
Im Here, Im Queer???
Kissing, is all
Punishment and an Ominous Chain
The Maid and the Jewels
the 2nd night with the Farmer
Total orgasmic destruction
What FetLife Has Done

Keep reading »

Tags: elust, other pictures

1 comment

The cell phone

Posted at 14:45 on 10 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I had such a good time shooting for Spanked in Uniform that I wanted to tell you about each of the films individually. Three of them in particular had stories and psychological elements which I found quite interesting, and you will hear all about those in due course. Today, though, I don't have time to write a long involved post (I know, I hear your sighs of disappointment) - but I do have time to post some promo pictures.

They're even topical! Sort of! In the sense that I've been sick lately, and in this scene I'm wearing a nurse's uniform ... Sadly I didn't have any sexy nurses waiting on me while I was feeling rotten last week, although my friends were wonderful and brought me lemsip and soup.

We filmed my take on St Elizabeth's private hospital on the first day of my shoot. We started with all the most straightforward scenarios while Mike and I warmed up and got to know each other. One downside of this is that the big bruise I collected (I can't remember exactly what from - a strap? A paddle? His heavy hand?) only shows up in the three scenes we filmed the second day - which were all a little more involved. You can see it starting to come out in the scenes filmed on the first day, but it's nowhere near as obvious.

As a result, speaking purely visually, the simpler scenes turned out looking better (at least in the screencaps) than the more interesting scenes with more developed storylines, in which my bottom sports a large distracting bruise in all the stills. Always disappointing when something arbitrary like that detracts from a more ambitious project. It's one of the perils of a two-day shoot - and the reason that Girls Boarding School sometimes put their models up for a week, and film a few days apart to give any unexpected marking a chance to heal.

Anyway, the storyline for "the cell phone" is fairly predictable - albeit chosen for its plausibility. I am a child of the modern age and am rarely far from my phone. I try not to do the rude thing of answering texts while chatting to someone else in person, but I have worked as an administrator in hospitals, where you are indeed not supposed to use mobile phones which might interfere with the equipment. I confess that while temping in my youth, although I always put my phone on silent (and wasn't quite so blatant as to walk around chatting in the corridors!) I did succumb to temptation and send a few discreet texts under my desk, on more than one occasion! (Although I wasn't wearing quite so sexy a nurse's uniform, being a secretary and not an actual nurse.) So you could argue that this spanking was pretty well deserved, if you were that way inclined...

Of course, a spanking and cornertime wasn't enough to break such ingrained bad habits. After her punishment my character was careful not to make loud phonecalls in the corridor any more. But she thought she could get away with a sneaky text message or two. Sadly, she wasn't nearly careful enough...

I love how these images turned out - I had real difficulty choosing which pics to post, so you get lots. Head over to Spanked in Uniform to watch the full video - and let me know what you think :)

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Tags: Photos, shoot writeups, Spanked in Uniform


The butler did it

Posted at 11:12 on 15 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I love this unusual D/s scenario from Sex and Submission. Rather than the lord of the manor taking his pleasure from a hapless serving girl, in this update the tables are turned when a mistreated butler takes revenge on his cruel mistress.

I like me some complicated power dynamics. And creepy photography of the butler pouring poison into a glass of wine gives any porn scene extra points in my book.

Spanking, tortoiseshell handcuffs, bondage and breast whipping? Yes please!

I think it was kind of him to let her kneel on the nice soft sheepskin rug. He could just as easily have made her kneel on that wooden footstool, after all...

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Tags: Fantasies, other pictures, Sex and Submission

1 comment

A teabreak tawsing

Posted at 16:16 on 17 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

A few short months ago, during the start of my courtship with Penny, I bought her a present. A Scottish domme, I thought, should own a real tawse. Somehow, even the nasty three-tailed ones I hate started to seem appealing when I imagined them in the hands of my tweed-clad, bespectacled, twinkly-eyed ma'am.

I'd wanted to buy her a Lochgelly by the London Tanners, but since Ian isn't in business at present I asked around for recommendations. They led me to MC Customs. I ummed over the Lochgelly style tawses, but eventually settled on a dark brown three-tailed Glasgow tawse, medium thickness, as the shape of the handle seemed a touch more elegant.

Penny was delighted with the gift, but for one reason and another, our next few dates passed without the new toy being sampled (mostly because we were, I'll admit, easily distracted by the delights of her strap-on cock).

Last night, walking back to her house, she mentioned that she really ought to get round to using it on me. Such a beautiful implement deserves to be used - and she was reluctant to try it on anyone else before I'd had a taste. I shivered, warning her that my pain tolerance might be affected by not playing much lately, but willingly agreed. That night we stayed up too late talking and were too sleepy to play; but this morning, as settled down to work in her study, wrapped up in one of her jumpers against the first chills of autumn, I fantasised about being called back into the bedroom for a brisk thrashing, just to keep me on my toes. I idly wondered if I had more chance of earning the beating I wanted by not doing my work, or by being good and getting things done.

As it happened, I quickly settled into a productive zone. After I finished the first section of my project, I headed downstairs to make more tea. I found Penny in the garden, sawing up pallets for firewood. "Is it bad that I keep composing tweets in my head?" she grinned. "In the garden sawing firewood. Girlfriend upstairs computer programming. We're both femme, honest." I grinned with her, and we kissed outside in the crisp September air. The exercise had left her eyes bright and her hands warm. She clasped my bottom with both hot palms. "After I've finished with all this wood my hands are going to be all hard and calloused," she teased.

"Yeah, that or blistered."

I made the tea and we sat at the kitchen table. The conversation fell, as it tends to with us, to sex. After a few minutes discussing, variously, switching, pegging and talking dirty during anal, she suddenly paused, raised an eyebrow at me, and asked "Would you like to go upstairs?"

I was eager to comply. "Perhaps I should order rather than ask, but you are meant to be working," she mused, following me up the staircase. "Go on."

I was bent over the end of the bannister to give her room to move behind me, the round bulb of wood pressing into my tummy and my forearms resting along the railing. She bound my wrists to the wood with a length of hemp rope, tightening it around the cuffs of the borrowed jumper. At her instruction, I'd pulled my jeans down to my knees but left my knickers in place. She spanked me over them, so lightly at first as to tease me, perhaps remembering my nervous comment of the night before. By the time my knickers came down and firmer smacks made one buttock after the other bounce and redden, I welcomed the impact. I pushed my bottom out and moaned my appreciation.

A pause; when she returned, I felt the cool smoothness of plastic or polished wood kissing my warm cheeks. Gentle circular motions at first, sensitising the roundest points of my buttocks as if they were two bullseyes; then tiny, mocking little taps. I caught my breath as the first proper stroke landed. The second made me groan. A round wooden paddle: not brutally hard, but solid enough to make me squeak.

"I'm going to get you to count down for me now, from six," my lady told me. "And you'll say 'thankyou, ma'am' after each one. Understood?"

"Count down, or up?"

"Down," she repeated patiently. I assented, and she began.

The paddling wasn't hard enough to freak me out, although each biting smack certainly elicited a reaction. But I was so engrossed in the sensations I forgot to pay attention to the backwards count, and said three instead of four after the third, which of course earned me an extra stroke.

I got the next three right, and wriggled in pleasure as she rubbed my bottom and admired the colour. "How are your thighs feeling?" she asked ominously, raising goosepimples with a light caress.

I bit my lip, thinking of the three-tailed tawse, but reassured by the care she was taking not to push me. "Um. Vulnerable?"

She chuckled. "Good answer." And then, yes, the unmistakeable sensation of leather, three solid, square tips slipping over the curve of my bottom, feeling suddenly very helpless and aware of my bonds. She flicked it lightly against my thighs a few times, contemplatively, watching me jump. "I'm going to get you to count again now. Up, this time. To ten, please."

"Yes ma'am," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

The first two strokes snapped against the shivering skin on the backs of my thighs. Hard enough to make me hiss through my teeth: not hard enough to panic me out of taking the rest. The third wrapped itself around my bottom in a slice of hot and cold, all the weight of it embedding itself into the impact of those three solid tips in the middle of my right cheek. I kept my count, rewarded by a soothing rub from her soft-skinned hand after each stroke. A couple of the strokes hit my thighs hard enough to make me react involuntarily, flinging my head back, bending my knees and crying out. The tawse flickered up and down, sharp and vicious on my thighs, but biting more deeply and pleasurably into the muscled padding of my arse.

By the time we reached ten I was helplessly aware the wetness in my cunt, and my whipped skin pricking and tingling and glowing in the cool air. I was breathing audibly, dishevelled, hair in my face. Penny glided into my field of vision, all chestnut curls and magnificent breasts, and enveloped me in a kiss. I wanted her to push me down over the railing and fuck me with her hand, grind the ball of her thumb against my clit, push her fingers deep inside me. Instead she untied my hands, kissed me again with no small amount of passion, then told me to pull up my jeans, go back into the study and get back to work. "And if you're very good," she promised, sparkling, "I'll give you another spanking later. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. Chastened, heated, horny as hell, I squirmed on the high office chair as I re-opened my project files. Now I've tasted that tawse, still vicious at the lightest end of its range, I'm hungry for more. The severity it promises is deliciously frightening. I want to be warmed up, talked through it, pushed to take as much as I can. I guess if I want to earn another good girl spanking this evening, I should get back to work...

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Tags: dominance and submission, kink, other pictures, paddle, Penny D, tawse


Dreams of switching

Posted at 16:57 on 20 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I'm sure most of the spankers reading this have had a similar dream at one point or another. I had a beautiful, creamy-skinned girl over my lap, and she wanted me to spank her. Her knickers had been pulled down, and her rounded, softly padded bottom awaited the stinging attentions of my hand. But when I raised my palm and tried to bring it down, it was like pulling my hand through treacle. I couldn't get any power into the swing. I felt incapacited, overwhelmed by the fear of what she must be thinking.

Not a standard anxiety dream for a spankee, sure. But on this occasion, for some reason, my dream self didn't give up. Rather than wallowing in the humiliation of not being able to give my fictional lover the attentions she so obviously wanted and needed, I persisted. While she wriggled over my lap (making the occasional sarcastic comment but nonetheless willing to stay put while I solved my little problem), I worked as hard as I could to overcome the dream-slowness of physical activity. I focused on her delightful bottom, thinking of how disappointed I would be in her position if my top couldn't get the hang of it. I swung with all the strength I had. When my forearm stalled midair, halted by unseen forces, I grabbed my spanking arm with my left hand, yanking it unstuck and towards her waiting behind.

The first few smacks landed with hardly any force at all. Undeterred, I gripped her firmly around her naked waist, pulling her slender body against mine and holding her still. I walloped her creamy bottom again, dragging my arm through the air almost in slow motion. This time, I managed to raise the tiniest trace of pinkness. It was working! Scowling in concentration, I brought my hand down again and again, determined to have an effect on her. In my head, I was giving her the thrashing of her life; the full strength of my shoulder behind every whack, smacks raining upon smacks as fast as I could deliver them. Unfortunately, in the dream-reality, my ferocity was watered down by the weird filters of my subconscious. But nonetheless, I was successfully making contact. Finally, her cheeks started to redden. I began to hear the mews and yelps of her responses.

Despite the minimal impact I'd achieved so far, my arm was already tiring. I briefly considered swapping from my hand to a hairbrush, but stubbornness or machismo prevented me. I was determined to give this lovely girl the punishment she needed without resorting to wood or leather. And my determination was paying off; as I continued to spank as hard as I could, I could feel the weird resistance in the air lessening. My swings gained in strength and fluency. I aimed for the underside of her delightfully rounded cheeks, watching them bounce under my palm with pleasure. Every wobble of her buttocks, every pink handprint, every whimper I provoked was a triumph. With each smack I could feel my strength increasing.

Eventually, after what felt like a year of exertion, the resistance had faded to almost nothing. I was able to spank her freely and powerfully, and all the effort I had put into those early, feeble smacks was now paying off as she yelped and twisted under my hand. I held her firmly around the waist and spanked as hard as I could.

Now that I was free to swing my hand unhindered, I could indulge in rubs and caresses between each smack. I became incredibly aroused as I watched the effect I was having. Her bottom was turning a deep, sore pink, mottled with tiny flecks of red, and she was gasping in a mixture of pain and pleasure. When I paused and slipped my hand between her legs, I could feel her slick, warm wetness. My own arousal was soaking into the crotch of my jeans.

The dream ended with me taking her into my arms, sitting astride my lap, tousled and flushed with desire. I slid two fingers into her, circled her slippery clit with the pad of my thumb. My left arm was still holding her tight around the waist, and her hair fell over my face as we kissed. I pleasured her with my right hand, palm facing upwards and fingers curling so that the two first joints just below the fingernails moved over and over her clit. She bucked in my arms, grinding down until I was rubbing with my knuckles, the heel of my soaked palm, my whole hand. I ended up with two fingers buried inside her, gripped by the slowing shudders of her inner muscles, her naked body slippery with sweat.

After that I had various dreams of a more random and mystical nature. But when I woke up next to D. and remembered how hot that switching dream had been, I was so turned on I had no choice but to give him a passionate blowjob before we got up for the day. (He didn't seem to mind.)

I've had the images from the dream spanking in my head all day, but I'm still not sure if I'd want to re-enact it in person. I don't know how effective a top I'd make in real life, whether I would be able to give my spankee the experience she craved. But it was a hell of a hot dream. And I was very proud of myself for persisting despite the difficulties, and bringing the dream sequence to such an erotically satisfying conclusion. Score one for willpower, even the subconscious kind.

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Tags: F-F, Fantasies, other pictures, otk spanking, switching


The new teacher

Posted at 18:27 on 24 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I've talked a bit about recording spanking audio on this blog, but since all my work in that genre so far has been for private commissions, I haven't had any to show you. I'm very grateful to my most recent client, therefore, for granting me permission to share a snippet from the story I recorded for him earlier this summer.

He came up with a fantastically creative concept: I was to play the role of his girlfriend, a couple of years older than him, who had just got a job at his school while he himself was still in the sixth form. Of course, corporal punishment was still permitted, so his girlfriend took great delight in teasing him with threats and promises about all the ways she could use - and abuse - her new position of authority over him. To give the whole thing a bit of an unexpected twist, I decided to structure it in the form of a series of voicemails, addressed to the listener as if you were listening to your answerphone messages.

I had great fun writing it, and one scene in particular stayed with me. I'm afraid I can't share as much of it with you as I'd like, due to needing to protect the identity of my lovely client (quite a lot of the story was personalised). So this is just a tiny teaser. I admit I got rather turned on while writing this scene and recording it, so I hope you'll enjoy it too:

The New Teacher - sample (1:51)
(Click to play or download)

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Tags: audio stories, Fantasies, other pictures


Feeling grown-up vs feeling small

Posted at 10:55 on 27 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

A topic of conversation on Twitter this morning has got me thinking. It was kicked off by this message from Emma-Jane:

Dressed in smart dress and heels for my presentation today. A painful 6 strokes with the dragon cane reminded me I'm not a complete grown-up though!
I couldn't help bring struck by the difference to my own responses. If I were to take a firm caning before dressing up smart and going off to do a grown-up, slightly scary professional thing, I think the caning would make me feel more grown-up. Or at least, if I was going to play before a day like that, I would want play that reinforced my sense of competence and confidence, not undermined it.

It got me wondering: is there a difference between bottoms/subs who seek play that makes them feel small, and those who seek play that makes them feel grown-up?

I opened the subject on Twitter, and quickly got an interesting variety of answers. A few people explicitly said they preferred that makes them feel little, secure, and safe. @SarahLRH said that "I choose the type of play that makes me feel small and protected. Too much in life is grown-up, I like to escape from it." This is a familiar point of view. It's one I've used to describe my own playing style before, on occasion. Bottoms who are very grown-up and responsible in real life often use play to escape from the stress of having authority, to seek a place of sanctuary where, for once, the buck doesn't stop with them. I can certainly identify with that. I've always seen myself in the gendered stereotype of the stressed-out businessman who carries the world on his shoulders but sees a Domme at weekends - and I know a fair few hardworking, high-achieving female bottoms who play for similar reasons.

And yet, in my case, I think I tend to seek that sort of stress relief after I have been grown-up, as a way of psychologically winding down and defragmenting, rather than beforehand to relieve my anxiety. Perhaps, then, that's the only difference between me wanting a hard caning after a stressful day, and Emma-Jane wanting one before it?

But too many people enjoy a variety of playing styles for it to be that simple. Scarlett de Winter said that "BDSM play makes me feel grown up, age play and CP makes me feel young." This chimes with another reply I received, from Jessica Davies: "Feeling small somehow makes me feel secure and so, more grown up. Roleplay characters affect this. If I want caring and loving play, I play small. If I want abuse and fear and pain, I am grown up!" It seems that quite a few people characterise sexy, scary BDSM-type play as grown-up, and safe, reassuring spanking play as the opposite.

There are definitely times when I seek the sort of play that is comforting, emotionally straightforward, where I am a little girl being taken in hand and looked after, where I don't have to make decisions or think or do anything other than be obedient and let me Dom carry me to a place where all my stress and anxiety has fallen away. It's rare for me, though. Far more common is the kind of play that makes me feel bigger, bolder: play where I am tested and challenged (or challenge and test myself), play in which I can be brave, can feel proud of myself. Play that allows me to hold me head up high and know that I'm doing well. The sort of play that leaves you feeling if I can take this, I can do anything. I like affirming play that makes me feel in control of my body. Holding position, making deliberate, graceful moments. Play that makes me feel strong, beautiful, elegant and sexy. This kind of play is empowering not just in the abstract sense that I am fulfilling my true desires, it is literally empowering: it leaves me feeling good about myself, more confident, more capable, more grown-up.

This kind of play, which leaves me feeling more able to face my responsibilities, is different for me from the sort of "little girl" play where the good feeling comes from feeling free of responsibility. And on a general basis, I am definitely more inclined to seek the former. But I'm not sure if those two categories make sense for anyone else. So tell me about play and grown-upness. Do you play because it makes you feel more grown-up, or because it makes you feel less grown-up? Or is it more complicated than that?

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Tags: meta-analysis


Spanish culture

Posted at 08:08 on 29 Sep 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I was startled the other day by seeing this poster near Tottenham Court Road:

Is it me, or does this advert portray

a woman lying over a man's lap;
holding a glass of red wine;
while, apparently, levitating?

I had no idea these things were such a central part of Spanish art and culture!

I'm not sure which would be a better trick - a magician spanking his assistant while she was floating over his knee (mm, hot) or the lady managing to hang onto her glass without spilling a drop during the process.

The latter could make a fun scene, though. (Well, obviously the former would be brilliant, but sadly I don't know any tops who have mastered the art of levitation.) An evening gown, a glittering necklace, sheer stockings and heeled shoes - arranging yourself elegantly over your top's lap, trying not to giggle too much, although it's not easy when you've had one or two glasses of vino already. Only once you're already in place do you realise that you're still holding your glass. "Oh! Where should I put this down, sir?" you'd ask, hoping he'd take it from you and solve the problem. (Or ma'am, of course, but right now I'm imagining a dashing Hispanic chap in a tux.)

He'd insist that you hang on to it, since you're enjoying it so much, and you'd think it was all a delightfully silly game until the first smack landed, heavy and stinging even through your gown. Then he'd tell you that for every drop of red spilled on the cream carpet, you'd earn a stroke of the cane, and you'd realise that lighthearted as the game might be, the consequences could be very serious indeed...

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, Fantasies, other pictures


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