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Philadelphia and Punished Brats

Posted at 00:53 on 26 Apr 2013 by Pandora Blake

I arrived home from eight days in the US yesterday and I've done very little so far except eat, nap, and fall asleep in the bath. Attempts to reset my body clock so far have failed dreadfully. For the last week I've been sleeping for 3-5 hours out of every 24, at times of day that feel utterly random due to the time differential. My sleep cycle is now so screwed I wouldn't even know how to start mapping it, let alone fixing it. I arrived home at midday UK time, after snatching a couple of hours on the plane. My initial intention was to struggle through to the evening and reset everything, but I couldn't do it; I crashed out from 5-10pm, which is how I came to be up until 4am last night cuddling the cat and writing this.

During that five hour nap I dreamed of the party; of having breakfast with everyone on the last day, of hugging Alex and Vincent and Jade. In my dream we were all unable to tear ourselves away from each other, and everyone decided to stay just one more day. Wishful thinking. Strangely, over the last couple of days the people I've found myself thinking of the most aren't those who were closest to me or who provided the best memories, but the people I didn't get to spend as much time with as I wanted. The ones I wanted to play with, but the timings or whatever didn't work out. Cee-cee and Jerry, Ten and DrLectr and JC.

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Tags: Amber Pixie Wells, BBW, David Pierson, F-F, making a scene, paddle, Performers and producers, Photos, Punished Brats, shoot writeups, Sites and studios, spanking parties, Subbing to women, those crazy kinksters, Veronica Bound

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The Head Girl rivalry

Posted at 13:59 on 13 Dec 2012 by Pandora Blake

There are lots of reasons I like the latest film on English Spankers. Amelia Jane Rutherford and I got to wear fantastic matching school uniforms in burgundy, which is always a treat. I love matched uniforms and I love wearing clothes that a producer has picked out for me. The plot is also right up my alley. We play sixth form girls who are rivals for the honour of Head Girl. I get picked, but jealous Amelia has a plan to discredit me.

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Tags: Amelia Jane Rutherford, English Spankers, featured photos, otk spanking, paddle, Photos, school uniform

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WPC Blake at Unladylike Manor

Posted at 00:24 on 16 May 2012 by Pandora Blake

My episode of Unladylike Manor is up at Spanking Sarah this week. I watched it last night and it's a really fun spanking story which turned out just as well as I'd hoped.

Sarah absolutely excels at twisty, long-running storylines, spanking soap operas if you will, and Unladylike Manor is the longest and twistiest. With its recurring characters, in-jokes and playful sense of humour it seems light on the surface, but there's a dark edge too. Sarah loves blackmail scenarios and other compromising situations, and many of the spankings in the series explore unfair punishments and complex consent.

Being able to do an episode was one of the best things about shooting for Sarah's site. Her personality really shines through, and I expect that women in particular will be drawn to this good-humoured yet compelling web series.

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Tags: featured photos, Female gaze, Katie Didit, OTK Spanking, paddle, Performers and producers, Photos, Sarah Bright, Spanking Sarah

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A placeholder paddling

Posted at 23:40 on 6 Mar 2012 by Pandora Blake

I've been working on my website since 7am, and D is waiting for me in bed. So I don't have time tonight to write any of the clever or interesting posts I'd like to write. Other people have written some excellent ones lately; I'll try to find time tomorrow to link you to my favourites.

In the meantime (call it an apology if you like), here's a couple of pictures from last Wednesday's post-shoot play party, of me getting the paddle from Zoe Montana. Between her and my friend J that evening, I still have bruises.

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Tags: featured photos, kink, paddle, Performers and producers, Photos, Subbing to women, Zoe Montana

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A bright spot

Posted at 01:24 on 6 Dec 2011 by Pandora Blake

Well, so far December hasn't improved much on November. My run of shitty luck has continued: a horrendous hangover on Sunday (I might have had a hand in that, I suppose) and today, my computer contracted a Trojan virus. First I knew of it was the AVG notification. Then it said it could only fix one of the identified problems. Next thing I know, my screen's full of popups and Windows is giving me crazy system errors. When I turned it on and off again and ran all the antivirus and spyware checks again, Windows is missing half its shortcuts and explorer can't see any of my data any more.

So that was fun.

When we plugged the discs into D's machine we discovered the data was all still there, my OS had just got fucked beyond the point of being able to read it. So we backed the data up and I spent the next few hours playing the Re-installing Windows Game. So much for my work plans today. I'm still waiting for my data to copy back onto the reformatted discs over the network, a process which will apparently take several hours. It's alright, it's not like I have a crazily tight deadline to launch a new business while people still have spending money, or anything. Ohwait.

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Tags: D, jeans, kink, other pictures, otk spanking, paddle

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Four's company

Posted at 22:29 on 21 Oct 2011 by Pandora Blake

A little while ago I got a message from Jacq. She said: "Did I tell you the realisation I had recently? I don't think I'm actually enjoying the being hit itself more than I used to, I think the thing that does it for me is the marks. I'm not certain that's what it is, but there is a reason I'm enjoying it more and I'm always sad when the marks fade, so..."

My first, irrational, reaction was dismay. She didn't enjoy the spankings themselves? I'm a feedback junkie: my pleasure as a sadist is directly fuelled by the enjoyment of my bottom. If Jacq wasn't into spankings per se, the idea of spanking her lost a lot of its thrill.

Then I read what she'd actually said: not that she didn't like being spanked, just that she didn't like the spanking itself more than she used to. I knew already that spanking wasn't her primary kink in the same way it is mine, but that it was a kink and she loved the power exchange. A third re-reading and it sunk in that - hey! She was enjoying it more than she used to! That's kind of awesome. So, right, clearly the thing to do was ensure that we gave her marks to remember next time we played.

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Tags: big black stick, cane, D, featured photos, Jacq, kink, otk spanking, paddle, Penny D, Photos, polyamory, switching, Thomas Cameron

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Website updates new and old

Posted at 17:55 on 23 Sep 2011 by Pandora Blake

Website updates new and old

The variable publishing pace of porn production takes some getting used to. As a performer, the rate you work at bears little relation to the rate at which you are published. A month in which you do tonnes of shoots might be one in which no websites release any of your work - and vice versa. Scenarios you filmed years ago and have almost forgotten about might suddenly surface; but sometimes photos or videos go up the week after the shoot, far sooner than you expected. And films which you put your whole heart into and are desperate to share with the world might spend years in post-production.

Although I'm not modelling much for other studios at the moment, only for my own site, a lot of work I did in the last few years seems to be appearing lately. Recent website updates have included an interesting mix of new and old shoots...

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Tags: Amelia Jane Rutherford, cane, English Spankers, featured photos, Northern Spanking, otk spanking, paddle, Photos, Sarah Gregory, Sarah Gregory Spanking, Spanked in Uniform, Spanking Sarah

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Recommended spankings

Posted at 23:45 on 13 Sep 2011 by Pandora Blake

I didn't have time to do a proper hyperkinks post at the weekend, but I did want to show you a couple of spanking links recently that caught my eye and turned me on.

The Intruder

The Villain and Erica Scott collaborated to produce this free spanking video. It shows us what happens when a creepy intruder enters Erica's flat. She fears the worst - and she's not sure whether to be relieved or more freaked out when she finds out that he just wants to spank her.

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Tags: Erica Scott, free spanking clips, hairbrush, paddle, Photos, school uniform, spanking stories, Spanking360, The Villain Strikes, Videos

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Live blog: What Happens in Vegas

Posted at 01:01 on 27 Apr 2011 by Pandora Blake

I'm just watching NSI's film What Happens in Vegas, which they filmed at the Shadowlane party last September. I was drawn in by the exceptionally pretty photography - the colours and lighting in the accompanying stills are just gorgeous - and, of course, by the tempting prospect of Zille Defeu and Bailey Sullivan in black lingerie. It's worth writing about, so I'll blog in real time as I'm watching it.

Technically speaking, the film definition is very high, but the audio does suffer from the fact that Northern Spanking were filming out of their suitcases and were presumably limited in terms of microphones - it's a bit hard to hear the dialogue unless you turn it right up, at which point there's a lot of rumble. Audio is one of the hardest things to get right, especially if you don't have a separate boom mic, so I have every sympathy - I've had the same problem on more than one occasion. Mostly, I'm just glad this film exists at all despite them being away from their standard setup, so I'm not inclined to complain too much. And the light in the film is almost as lovely as in the stills.

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Tags: Bailey Sullivan, cane, F-F, Marcus Black, Mf, Northern Spanking, paddle, Performers and producers, reviews, Zille Defeu

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Let the turkey burn

Posted at 18:09 on 23 Dec 2010 by Pandora Blake

D and I both seemed to be in odd moods last weekend. I, after being totally on top of things all week, was fragile, overtired and crashing, but desperately trying to brave it out and not be a needy little girl. Apparently it came out sounding like I was pissed off with everything, which suggests either that I'm not as good at braving it out as I think I am, or that D is better at reading me than I think he is. Or perhaps it suggests that sometimes, what I need is to be a fragile little girl. D, after all, is one of the few people I'm genuinely comfortable being small with, so I'm not sure why I was trying to fight it so hard.

Anyway, the resulting bickering was outdone by the truly electric make-up sex that came after it. Not normally a pattern D and I find ourselves in, but our emotional vulnerability lent itself to play of a remarkable rawness and intimacy.

At one point, being pushed with breathplay, my body suddenly went into an uncontrollable panic - emotionally I was alright but in three seconds I'd gone from turned on to hyperventilating, crying and shaking (and, okay, still turned on). Credit to D: he immedately stopped, held me, took my word for it when I said it was just a physical reaction and wasn't a big deal, and was perfectly happy to pick up where we'd left off as soon as I'd regained my composure. Sometimes, being pushed until I break can make me feel just as safe as my top taking care to push me without breaking me.

After a mutually satisfying, loved-up fuck he pulled three implements out of his toybox - cane, wooden paddle and belt. I'm looking at him half going WTF, we just finished, and half delighted that we aren't done yet.

"Pick one," he smiles.

Just one? I'm disappointed. I consider. We had fun with the paddle last time, so today I fancy something different. I suspect he wants to cane me - it's not an implement he plays with often, and the fact he's got it out suggests he's in the mood. But what I really want is the belt - the liquidy warmth of leather, the sharp but glowing sensation which wraps around my bottom like a caress.

"I'm surprised," he says when I make my choice (I think he was expecting me to opt for the cane), but he humours me: the belt is laid out on the bed, the other two put to one side.

Throughout a restful evening the belt is a teasing promise of what's yet to come. I was expecting to get it later that night, but tiredness overtakes us both and I fall asleep on him around 11pm.

The next day, dinner is in the oven and somehow we end up snapping at each other again. We talk through it but he needs some time to calm down, so I flop on the bed and distract myself with my netbook. Ten minutes later I hear him come in behind me. I'm wondering what mood he's in when I feel his touch, an affectionate stroke along my back. "Permission to glomp?" he asks hesitantly, and no sooner have I granted it I'm engulfed in a whole body hug. Well, there are worse ways to say sorry. I love the feel of his weight resting on me, and tell him there's no hard feelings by bumping my arse playfully against his hips from below.

Which is how I came to be facedown on the bed, jeans unbuttoned by him and tugged down over my bottom, which is lifted by a couple of strategically placed pillows and practically tingling with anticipation. The enormous mirrors alongside his bed had been making me feel self-conscious of my fuller figure all weekend, so I hid my face from them (as I had while over his knee the day before) and wondered if my over-emotional self would be able to cope with the thrashing I'd chosen.

Perhaps he was wondering the same; the first three strokes were light, testing the waters, warming us up. I breathed deeper and murmured my assent. The gentleness of his approach meant that when the harder strokes fell I lapped them up. I felt cocooned in love and security, safe to yelp and hiss through my teeth as the pain nudged against my thresholds, safe to moan into the bed when they hit that perfect sweet point of simultaneous pain and pleasure.

When the fire in my bottom was well and truly lit he paused and gave me a rub that almost made me purr. I felt like he could keep going all afternoon, except of course that dinner was still in the oven, and in fact I should have started putting the veg on ten minutes ago. "Shall we reconvene later?" he asked, not wanting to ruin the meal I'd started, but I had absolutely no desire to interrupt proceedings.

I was reminded of the Ann Summers ad I saw at Victoria station recently - a lady wearing sexy negligee and the slogan LET THE TURKEY BURN. At that precise moment I felt wholeheartedly in agreement with the sentiment. Let it burn. Dinner could wait. I had other priorities.

So D nipped out to turn the oven off, the veg was left sitting in cold water, and my bottom got cooked instead.

He re-appeared in front of me (I was still stretched out on the bed with my jeans around my knees and my arse glowing pink), grinning like a kid who's done something they shouldn't, holding up the two rejected implements. His grin widened as he waited for me to get the joke. "Pick one."

So that was his game. I hid my amusement and excitement with my best sardonic look. "Am I choosing what else I get, or am I choosing what else I get first?"

He beamed at me, delighted with his surprise and wanting to string it out, then relented. "First."

"Alright." I briefly compared the relative sensations and marking produced by belt-cane-paddle or belt-paddle-cane. The belt had left me nicely tender and the paddle is a very blunt instrument. I opted for nuance. "Cane."

He was surprised again, but given I'd thought I was done, that made two of us.

He made me thank him for the cane strokes, but not count them, so I don't know how many I got. They hurt, though, more than I'd expected after that languorous, sensual belting; every stroke a jolt of sting that fizzed and itched along the line of the welt, making me jump, making it impossible to relax. I hung onto the rail at the foot of the bed and gasped my way through a caning that pushed me more than I expected.

It had the desired effect, though. By the time he finished I was soaking wet. As he stood in front of me again and unzipped his jeans I pounced on his cock hungrily, eager and grateful. The pleasure of feeling it slide against my tongue made me close my eyes in bliss.

Skip ahead a bit (past me on my back with my head hanging off the foot of the bed so that he could slide deeper into my throat, stopping my airway - but not making me panic this time) and before long I definitely wanted to be fucked more than I wanted the paddle. I may have mentioned this aloud, because D tutted and thwarted my impatience with a reminder of earlier negotiations. "Mmm, not yet - you have to shave first, and put stockings and heels on, and all sorts of things."

He was referring to online chats in which we'd agreed that I'd shave my pubic hair for him over Christmas. I mildly prefer the appearance of trimmed hair, but I like to keep my labia and crack shaved for ease of access and silkier sensations. D has a strong preference for ladies and gentlemen who are completely shaved, a bias I'd find less forgivable if he didn't keep himself smooth in turn. It's too much faff for me to indulge all the time, but I enjoy variety, and I don't mind obliging him occasionally. If nothing else, I can usually expect to be rewarded with pleasingly enthusiastic cunnilingus.

I needed no further prompting. I jumped up to grab a razor and towel and headed to the bathroom.

It's strange - if you described this situation to me I might expect to feel somewhat indignant about having my pleasure forestalled until I'd corrected some lacking aspect of my personal grooming. Perhaps I should have been annoyed with his presumption. But as I perched on the side of the bath, shower foam mingling with the slippery evidence of my arousal, I felt supremely content. The act of revealing newly bare, sensitive flesh seemed remarkably like unwrapping a present for him, and I felt a similarly happy anticipation at the prospect of pleasing him. I hummed to myself as the razor slid delicately over my swollen labia, enjoying my awareness of the cane welts striping my arse. At that moment, cheerfully obeying his orders with a sore red bottom, I felt very, very loved.

--

We didn't get round to the paddle before dinner. Not that I'm complaining - events proved more than satisfactory (and so, when we eventually reheated it, did dinner). It wasn't until I was getting ready to leave that I was reminded of our unfinished business. I'd already missed one train due to not being ready in time, and was belatedly packing and trying to find my netbook case. I went into the bedroom to look for it. A little while later D came in to ask how I was getting on, and raised an eyebrow at the discovery of me on the bed, checking twitter on my netbook.

"You've packed all your things up already, yes?"

"Nearly!" I chirped, jumping up and hastily scooping up evidence to the contrary.

He looked at me. I looked innocently back, jamming netbook, socks and phone charger into my rucksack.

He picked up the paddle.

It was a fair cop. I bent over the end of the bed and lowered my jeans for my third and final dose of the weekend. I received several rapid, crisp whacks with no warm up which had an effect similar to that of a bucket of cold water. I squirmed and yelped throughout, a far cry from the submissive pleasure with which I'd taken the belt a few hours earlier. His raised eyebrows at my wimpy reactions made me wish I could turn my masochism on like a tap, but the paddling served its purpose. Suitably chastened, I tugged up my jeans and finished my packing with a smile on my face. I do like it when tops keep their promises.

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Tags: belt, cane, D, dominance and submission, kink, other pictures, paddle

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