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Supermodel spanked by Santa

Posted at 14:09 on 9 Dec 2014 by Pandora / Blake

I was feeling the need for a bit of light relief when my boyfriend sent me this, from US Magazine:

Kendall Jenner is featured in a new behind-the-scenes video for Love magazine's annual Advent calendar, and it sure is naughty.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, Kendall Jenner, media, seasonal spankings, spanked by Santa


How to go swimming when you're marked

Posted at 18:25 on 20 Jul 2011 by Pandora / Blake

Tom took over responsibility for keeping track of my exercise routine the same week we went on holiday with Zille and Duncan. I didn't realise the potential clash until I was waiting for the bus on my way to the pool that Friday, and suddenly remembered that my arse and thighs were black and blue.

Shit! I couldn't believe this hadn't come up before, but I guess I don't mark easily these days, and the times I have must have been weeks I didn't manage to go swimming. I knew from catching sight of myself in the mirror that morning that underwear didn't cover these bruises, and neither would my swimming costume.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, kink, learning curves, other pictures, Photos


Bear Ass

Posted at 20:20 on 20 Oct 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I've written before about the real ale pump labels by ex-spanking model and erotic artist Lynn Paula Russell. Her recent work is well worth a look - I love the nature-based erotic pieces she's been producing lately:

But apparently, Ms Russell isn't the only kinky artist commissioned to create a beer pump label. Check out this naughty design from Beartown Brewery:

(Mine isn't bare at the moment though - it's far too cold. Brr! Maybe if it was covered in a lovely thick coating of warm bear fur...)

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, fetish art, funny, other pictures


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


my superpower

Posted at 21:40 on 1 Oct 2009 by Pandora / Blake

The other week D. and I were at a business networking event for creative types. It was all a bit too loud and hip for us, but we got free cake, so that was okay.

On the tables were scattered stickers encouraging people to fill in a snippet of information about themselves, as interesting, entertaining or wildly fictional as possible. Some people had filled them out and then changed their minds, leaving their putative identities scattered for someone else to claim.

This one caught both our eyes:

Did I grab the nearest marker pen, complete the poor half-finished "n" and adorn myself with this high-powered professional label? I'll leave you to decide. But if I did, it was only because D. was egging me on.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, funny, other pictures



Posted at 14:52 on 29 Sep 2009 by Pandora / Blake

This year the chilli plants in my garden seem to be thriving. I have more hot peppers than I know what to do with. I use them in my cooking whenever I can (I love spicy food) but even then, my plants were getting bowed down with unpicked chillies, and I was worried that they'd shrivel up and lose their freshness. So I decided to have a go at making chilli oil.

Life has been a bit of a rollercoaster lately, and between one thing and another I've not had much free time at home. At the weekend, I ended up with a window of free time waiting for my friend to pick me up in the car. After watering my plants I picked the ripest tomatoes, and then decided I had time to harvest my jalapeno peppers and turn them into chilli oil.

The biggest job was chopping and deseeding them. I kept some seeds to add heat to the oil, but removed the pith at the centre of each pepper and separated about half the seeds for storing and planting next year. I'd sterilised my jars and was just getting ready to heat the oil when my friend phoned to tell me he'd be there in a sec. "Do you want to come in for a cup of tea while I finish what I'm doing?" I asked. No, sorry - he had to dash.

So I hastily threw the overnight things I needed in my bag, put the chopped chillies and seeds in separate sandwich bags in the fridge, sealed the sterilised jars and ran out of the door. I'd just have to finish making the oil when I got home the next day. I was in such a hurry that I left my computer switched on.

It wasn't until I was in the car that I discovered my folly: I had forgotten to wash my hands. As we crawled through London traffic I realised my fingertips were covered in capsaicin. Ten minutes into a half-hour drive my hands were starting to feel extremely interesting. I tried wiping them on my jeans, but that didn't help. Then I tried licking my fingertips before wiping them, but that just made my lips and tongue start burning. I amused myself for a little while giving myself capsaicin lipstick, but transferring the chemical to my mouth didn't lessen the pain in my hands - it just spread it around more. My friend laughed at me as I alternately sucked and blew on my fingers, but until we reached his place there was nothing else to be done.

It was simultaneously hilarious and deeply uncomfortable. The burn didn't disappear for hours. As soon as we parked the car I leapt inside and washed my hands thoroughly with liquid soap. That helped a little, but then I had to wash my hair, and the hot water re-activated the toxin until the sting was worse than ever. I ended up sitting next to a saucer of milk and dabbling my fingers in it. I was astonished by how long the sensation lasted.

Of course, from the first moment my fingers started burning, my mind instantly leapt to the kinky implications of the sensation. I've read about using capsaicin as a spanking tool on Thomas' Spanking Exploits, who has written a tutorial on the subject as well as numerous descriptions of scenes and punishments employing the technique.

I think that having capsaicin applied to my bottom would probably be less unpleasant (or at least, more interesting) than having it stuck to my fingers. Even so, it's definitely not something I want. The idea of having something caustic rubbed into punished flesh is horrid, horrid, horrid - reminiscent of Victorian schoolteachers who applied lemon juice to the thighs of their pupils after leaving welts with a ruler, or medieval torturers rubbing salt or vinegar into wounds. Horrid - and yet compelling. I think if I ever played with capsaicin I'd prefer it to be in the type of roleplay where my tormentor is brutal and unfair, and I'm a hapless victim. It's not the kind of punishment I'd ever want to feel like I'd deserved. Although if I was threatened with it as a punishment, it might be a very effective deterrant!

Having said that, during that painful car journey I did find the burn in my hands easier to bear by mentally transferring it to my bottom. So perhaps the idea has erotic potential after all...

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, Fantasies, funny, other pictures


for sale / sold

Posted at 19:14 on 14 Sep 2009 by Pandora / Blake

I was cycling home from work last week, when I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. It was so intriguing I had to pull over and walk my bike back along the pavement to get a closer look.

Yes, that is an antique gym horse, displayed outside an antique furnishings and shopfittings shop. Yes, those are iron D-rings attached to the feet. No, there isn't really anything else that could be for.

No price on it. It wouldn't fit in my flat. But there might be room for it at Tom's place ... would he mind me showing up with a random piece of spanking furniture? How would I even get it there without a car? If it turned out to be affordable, I should text him and ask ...

I surreptitiously sneaked a photo, then ducked into the shop to ask how much it was.

"Sold a few days ago," replied the creased, lean man behind the desk. "Still waiting for 'em to collect it, mind."

"How much did it go for?" I asked. Then felt the need to justify my interest. "I'm looking for one for a prop in a film..." (This excuse has the benefit of being at least partly true.)

"Hundred and fifty." Ah. Slightly beyond my immediate budget. (Maybe I could save up, though... Hey, maybe I could justify it as a professional expense. It might even be tax-deductible.) He continued, "Funny how popular they are. We had another one in a few weeks ago, that was snapped right up. In fact we've got a bigger one downstairs, one of the ones that stacks up. You can go down if you want a look."

"No thanks," I said, determined not to be tempted by too-big, too-expensive toys. "I might keep an eye, though, see if you get any more through..."

Apparently North London is full of keen-eyed spankos. I mean, who else would buy something like that? Really?

I went on my way, regretting that I hadn't come by a week ago, and that I hadn't had the nerve to test its size in the street. It looked like it might have been just the right height.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, other pictures, those crazy kinksters


unexpected conversations

Posted at 18:02 on 8 Sep 2009 by Pandora / Blake

I went away this weekend with some vanilla friends-of-friends. I had a great time, not least because it was the first mini-break I've had this summer where I wasn't running or organising anything! I also found myself in the middle of a couple of interesting conversations that I really hadn't expected:

1. I found myself trying to explain That Thing We Do to a very sweet, rather drunk vanilla woman. (I can't remember why - I think I answered the ubiquitous "so what do you do?" question honestly, more fool me. I'll admit I was somewhat the worse for wear myself.) Anyway, I didn't do a very good job of explaining; I would try to introduce to concept of power exchange, dominance and submission, and how it relates to trust and intimacy, and she would furrow her brow and ask "So ... the sadist is the one that likes inflicting pain, yeah?"

I gave up before too long, but shortly afterwards a smiling, wrinkly fellow with long blue-white hair came and sat next to me, saying "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation..." Turns out he's a regular at Subversion and several of the other London fetish clubs, knows all sorts of people I know, and we ended up having a lovely long chat. I recommended a few spanking sites to him, particularly Northern Spanking, which sounded like it would suit his tastes down to the ground. Not only did I make a new friend, but rather than feeling alienated by the unsuccessful attempt to explain kink to a vanilla, I ended the evening all heart-warmed by the fact that fellow perverts can turn up in the most unexpected contexts.

2. The next night, I was sitting and chatting with a group of new friends. The topic of sex work came up, and one of the boys said it was something he'd been thinking about for some time; and that recently he'd started considering it more seriously. I paused for a little while before deciding, oh, what the hell.

"Well," I said, "I'm a professional spanking model, so if you're serious I could probably talk to you a bit about it." He was astonished, then delighted, and we ended up having a really good chat about the potential consequences of sex-work. We traded stories about people we knew, the ones who were happy with what they did and the ones who ended up regretting it. I told him about my friend at university who worked as an escort in London to support her mum, and who made loads of money, but found it killed her sex-drive completely.

"On the other hand," I said, "I was worried when I started making films that it would make me less interested in spanking. You know, because no matter how much you love what you do you still have to be professional about it, keep a booking when you're not necessarily in the mood, or with people you wouldn't otherwise play with. But I've found that doing it professionally has actually made me kinkier. It's like, the more I exercise that part of my brain, the more active it is. Like you know when you're really horny and the more sex you have, the more you want?"

He was nodding, and afterwards he gave me a big hug and said it had been amazing to meet me, and thankyou for the chat. I'll be really interested to hear what he decides.

What I didn't quite manage to articulate at the time, but said to my kinky friend J later, was this: the key, I think, is only doing work you want to do. Don't do shoots that don't interest you. Don't do scenarios that turn you off, don't work for people that make you feel uncomfortable. If you only do shoots that you find exciting, that you look forward to, that you like seeing the results of - then it creates a positive feedback loop, and the more you do, the more you want to do. But if you force yourself to do jobs that aren't fun at all (say, because you need the money), then it can turn into a negative feedback loop and put you off playing privately. From the people I've spoken to, I suspect this applies to mainstream porn, private spanking sessions or escort work as well as spanking shoots, but I could be wrong; I can only speak from my own experience.

The basic rule I've always been told is that you should only do it as long as you enjoy it; and as soon as you stop enjoying it, you should take a break, or focus on something else for a while. I'd go further than that, and say that if you can only do work you actively enjoy, it will increase your enjoyment rather than damage it.

Of course, unless you're producing your own material, it's not easy to follow this rule and make a living off sex work. Which is one of the reasons I'm working on my own site! I don't know if the rule applies to production, direction, editing and website maintenance as well as the spanking itself, although those are all things I've already done professionally for other people. I guess the only way to find out is to try :)

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, making a scene, meta-analysis


like a drowned rat

Posted at 18:30 on 6 Aug 2009 by Pandora / Blake

This is me right now:

Have I been taken by the arms and had my head held under water by the prison guards, to teach me a lesson when I refused to co-operate? Have I been scrubbed down by a firm and unyielding Nanny, ignoring my squeals as her rough washbrush scraped my nipples, which were bitten bullet-hard by the cold water?

Actually I've just cycled home in a tremendous deluge, pushing through puddles so deep the wheels of my bike sent up plumes of water too heavy for me to pedal through. When I got home I tumbled inside looking like a drowned rat, as my mother would say, took my trainers off on the front doorstep to tip the water out, and peeled my sodden jeans off straight into the shower.

I made it home at top speed though, whirring through the empty, flooded streets as fast as I could, adrenaline coursing through my body. I didn't want to be out any longer than I had to, sure, but I found a subversive delight in racing through London in the rain, battling the streams of water and grinning as lesser mortals cowered indoors. Now I'm home with hot tea and a fluffy bathrobe, and free to enjoy the thoughts of what might have just happened to me ...

... Perhaps a headstrong young lady, slipping out of her bedroom window at night to scale the roofs on some adventure? She would have lost her footing on a loose tile and fallen, to her lasting humilation, into the waterbutt outside the kitchens. Her thrashing would have wakened the servants, who would have come running out with candles and barefeet to fish her out. The under-maids would giggle, the kitchen boys would snigger at the sight of her wet nightdress plastered to her young body, and the grim-faced butler would take her to her father's study to explain what, exactly, she thought she had been doing ...

She would have recovered her composure by the time he addressed her, and would face his temper with a haughty silence. But the cane hurts more on a wet bottom ...

Photos by Dogstar.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, Fantasies, Photos, Victoriana

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work and play

Posted at 17:58 on 30 Jul 2009 by Pandora / Blake

D. and I have spent a lot of time together this month, working on some shared geeky projects. Among other things, he's helping me with the back-end of my embryonic spanking film site.

We've worked together before, when I did some freelance work a couple of years ago for the company he was with at the time. He was my point of contact with the company and we talked each project over on IRC. The problem with this was that we already spent every day chatting on IRC, and so we found ourselves talking about work stuff in the same state of mind as we had more personal conversations. More than once this resulted in rows caused by one or both of us getting frustrated and failing to remain professional.

I like to think I've grown up a lot since then, as a person and a businesswoman. D. and I have certainly grown stronger over this period, got more used to each other's quirks and better at communicating and diffusing conflict. This spring and summer have been particularly good for D. and I - in fact, it's been great for both my relationships, demonstrating an aspect of polyamory at its best: the positive feedback loop. The more stable and happy one relationship is, the more stable and happy I am, and the more energy and cheer and love there is splashing around the three of us in general.

One of the things that's been good for me and D. lately is working on web projects. See, I love him lots, and we've been together three and a half years now, but early on in the relationship I sometimes remarked that although we had unbelievably, incandescently good sex, but we didn't really have that much in common. Well, we must have grown together over those three and a half years, or just grown more comfortable with our differences, because these days that doesn't feel true at all. I think it's important for couples to have shared activities outside the bedroom - shared skills that you can enjoy together, whether it's playing tennis, playing games, making music or something else. Something more active than just watching a DVD together: a time when you can invest your energies together in something you both care about, share respect and trust in each other's skills, and satisfaction at what you've achieved.

For D. and I, that something seems to be making websites. We have overlapping, complementary skills, we both think the other is great at what they do, and we have lots to teach each other. And since we started working together in earnest, it has been fantastic for our sex life.

Photo courtesy of the inimitable and very fanciable Anna of nerdpr0n.com.

Coding and spanking have several things in common. They're both high-energy pursuits with intense feedback loops that yield a lot of satisfaction. Getting a computer to do what you want it to is a high that's been compared to drugs, and the programmers' euphoric state of extreme focus and determination is legendary. It's easy to forget the time and stay up all night. And, it turns out, both spanking and programming get me and D. excited.

A little while ago we spent a long weekend coding. We were both stressed, driven, jittery with caffeine; although I felt very connected to him while we were working, by the time we stopped work sometime after midnight on the Saturday night, we were clearly in no state for anything more demanding than a cuddle. I went to sleep hoping that we'd be able to be more intimate in the morning. I'd bought a pair of hot pink peeptoe stilettos that day, and I wanted to break them in in my favourite way - balanced on D.'s shoulders, toes pointing at the ceiling.

Sadly, my neighbours had other ideas: we were rudely awoken at 8am by loud Brazilian pop music blaring through an open window. Grumbling and cursing, we made tea and got up, deciding that since we were awake we may as well get on with work.

By midday, we were thoroughly absorbed in our code, and sharing that charge of electricity you get when a programming project is flowing well. My hand kept sliding onto D.'s knee, and we'd stop and kiss to celebrate fixing a bug or writing a particularly elegant line of code. I was feeling pretty damn good, and decided that hot pink peeptoe stilettoes were the perfect accessory to suit my mood.

At this point I discovered something I had never known before: wearing 4" heels at your desk does wonders for your seated posture. Suddenly my typing position was 100% ergonomic. It was a miracle!

Even more miraculous was the effect it had on D. Within five minutes I found myself upended over his lap for no good reason at all, except to enjoy the sight of me in bare legs and high heels, which is a pretty good reason really. The smacks were delivered good-naturedly, but firm enough to count, and I squeaked and giggled my way through an utterly delicious concentration break. Once my bottom had been attended to, I enthusiastically attended to D.'s pleasure, and was delighted to find myself being dragged upstairs and fucked as hard as I like it in my pretty new shoes.

I swear we wrote better code when we returned, flushed and grinning, back to our desk. I'm sure work isn't meant to be this much fun.

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, D, dominance and submission, kink

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