Three spankable girls

Three exquisitely spankable females, each as perfect in their own way as can be. One limpid eyed, bare bottomed and expectant, waiting in the bedroom for her lover, unsure what his visit will mean, but whatever it might be, knowing that she wants it. Whatever arabesques their journey to it might take, they will inevitably end the night with their naked limbs twined together like honeysuckle tendrils. That is a given, and if means that first her delectable buttocks will have been sequinned with pain, then it will only mean that all their other congress will be so much sweeter.



The next a girl is already in position to be punished, across his knee and her spanking so imminent that in her head she can already hear the sound of his hand on her not yet bared flesh. It won't be long now. Her dress is so short that even before it has been pulled up, her knickers are visible, and in a moment he will have taken them down and her innocence will be behind her. She will have joined the sisterhood of the spanked, and ever after she will know exactly what to expect.

And lastly a girl, possibly too gorgeous for her own good, blatantly displaying all she has, her long sleek legs and her polished and perfumed pudenda, so groomed and buffed she considers it as waste not to show it off. She'll pay the price of course, they way we all have when we’ve got too pleased with ourselves, (don't remind me!) wriggling and gasping across the knee as her perfect bottom is spanked and spanked to remind her that even these days a little modesty is not such a bad thing.

The New Maid

Lucky man! He‘s just taken on a new maid, perfectly kitted out in stockings and suspenders and high heels, all so perfect in fact that it’s a shame she failed to put on any knickers. Nothing a good spanking won’t sort out, and so long as tomorrow he remembers to hide them again, he can have her back across his knee for another one. While he’s at it, next time, why not hide everything except the stockings and the heels.

Always a good idea to start as you mean to go along.

Twinned in punisment

OK, time to swap. You can spank Lucy and I’ll spank Sandra.

Words fail me!

Punishment and Pleasure

Credit for this drawing must go to Au fils du jour from whom I borrowed it, but being me I could not resist giving it a modest Elizabeth makeover.


What a wonderful drawing it is! Beautifully decadent and with a real feel of exactly how a finger is crooked when giving pleasure to an inverted female. Having been in this position myself, both on the giving and receiving end, it struck a real chord. A punishment always has an additional edge if one has been stimulated first, and if the man knows what he's doing and brought her to just the right pitch, after only a short way into the spanking the lucky girl will have an orgasm, pleasure and punishment melded into a perfect cocktail.

Should this happen then of course it is the girl's absolute duty to repay the compliment, showing her appreciation in the ways that only a young freshly spanked and knickerless girl can. I'm sure it's not necessary for me to say that should the girl in question not know how to do this then, quite frankly, a spanking is wasted on her!

Carrie

I don't know much about Carrie having only just discovered her. Apparently Carrie was a cartoon strip in the lad's magazine, Mayfair in the late nineteen sixties. She was drawn by different artists during different periods so did not always look quite the same. In common with other girls in such strips she was chirpy and sexy and constantly finding herself in scrapes which ended in her being sexually humiliated, or naked, or spanked, or any combination of all three.


I've not been able to find many pictures, but the few I have are here. If any of you can give me a link to any of the images of her getting a spanking I would be really grateful.

Downton Abbey, where it went wrong

If you look at my recent posting on Downton Abbey, you will see my complaint loud and clear. What it needed was scenes like this,





or this,


better still this,



or even this.



That would have guaranteed I would have tuned in next week

Vita Sackville- West and Harold Nicholson

Watching Downton Abbey made me think of Harold Nicholson and Vita Sackville-West,one of the most fascinating and exciting couples who ever lived, their lives starting in the Edwardian age and then moving on into our own. Long before that ugliest of words, celebrity, was ever in common usage, and without ever seeking any sort of publicity they lived out a life as scandalous as anything the modern tabloids could ever hope for.



She was the offspring of a great aristocratic family, the Sackvilles, was draw to writing and in due course started to move in the literary circles of her day, inevitably brushing shoulders with the Bloomsbury Group. Virginia Woolf was entranced by her (they may or may not have had a lesbian affair) and her book Orlando is based on that infatuation. Harold was a diplomat and political diarist who appeared to have know everyone of political and social consequence, and to have been present at virtually every major political event of the last hundred years. They married despite he being pray to the love that dare not speak its name and she having similar inclinations. Soon after they were married she embarked on a string of Sapphic affairs, the most notorious being with Violet Trefusis, and at its height the two women were travelling round Europe dressed as young men with Harold following in hot pursuit. In due course things settled, though each continued to have occasional erotic holidays with their own sex.


Despite all this, their absolute devotion to each other was never in doubt, and this is evidenced by libraries worth of their letters to each other, each a model of passion, love and erudition and a rebuke to every straccato text message sent today.

He is mainly known for his diaries and political commentaries, and she the handful of books she wrote, but their joint legacy is far greater than these. Between them they created the wonderful gardens at Sissinghurst Castle, universally acknowledged to be amongst the most important and beautiful in the world. They drip with perfume and romance and I recall a female lover of mine remarking as we walked through that it was a garden designed for kissing in, and I think she had it about right.





I suppose that where I am going with all this is to say that it is not necessary to be conventional in either one’s daily habits or in ones sexuality to make a life that is worth while, nor is it impossible to create something of lasting pleasure. Just go on remembering that when reading some of my more wicked postings.

Downton Abbey

I watch very little on TV these days, but made the effort this weekend to watch the first episode of Downton Abbey, (For those who don't live in the UK, a new big budget Upstairs Downstairs type drama about a grand Edwardian family in decline.) All in all it was a bit bloodless and anaemic, despite the cast including the wonderful Maggie Smith, but it gets worse! Despite a handful of pretty young daughters and the house positively crawling with an army of maids, scullions, and other female domestics, NOT ONE SPANKING!

What do we all pay our licence fee for?

Her first time

Secretary

You're the most incompetent secretary I've ever had! Call the agency and tell them I want you next week as well.

Should have closed the curtains!

Girl on girl (Again!)

Men, what would we do without you, your hungry probing members, your wonderful raw appetites, your roving hands and eager appreciation of a short skirt on a windy day. Walking past a busy building site we are reminded by you why God gave us curves and sleek thighs, flowing hair and beguiling eyelashes.

But we appreciate ourselves as well, some of us too much. Some of us are so taken by what we have we want to enjoy it for ourselves, and need to share kisses with our own kind from time to time, to remind ourselves how pleasurable the swell of a breast feels in our hands or to explore a moist crevice as the sweet creature we are enjoying gasps and pants in enjoyment of our attention.

And of course, knowing how, as females, we benefit from those occasional painful lessons we have to learn across the knee, our panties humiliatingly lowered and our protests ignored, so with our own kind we take pleasure in administering pleasurable punishments from time to time, pinking our partner’s pretty bottoms till we feel the need to kiss it all better and start again from the beginning, exchanging endearments with our fluids.

Dear God, thank you for making me a girl. Amen!

A good old fashined spanking

I'm a romantic at heart, love all the trappings of it, moonlight, flickering candles, soft pillows, poetry and perfume. But sometimes people's needs are more primal, wanting the roughness of a thorough fuck rather than gentle lovemaking. Getting back to first principals.

With that though in mind, let me finish the week’s postings by going back to basics. Sometimes it's necessary to get away from wit and wisdom, from clever words and repartee, and to focus on what the crowds are baying for, so here, in all their exposed glory are a good handful of not good girls; naughty girls who have been asking for it and are now getting it. That's right, pinned into place with their knickers down and their protests ignored, these little minxes are about to get the thorough bare bottomed spanking they've been asking for.

A little lacking in subtlety, some of you may be thinking and you would be right, but every now and then that's just what is needed.

Friday evening

The end of the week, tired, pressured, but it’s my time now. A little food, a little wine, the incomparable joy of one’s own company. He’s not here, and though my congress with him is wonderful, there are times when nothing but the peace of self pleasuring will do. Things I’ve done with him, things I’ve done with others, and things I’ve never quite dared to suggest flit through my mind like ghosts of people I’ve not met but only dreamed of.

Self lubricated with my thoughts I strip and recline, and I’m part way there even before my eager fingers make the first contact. Cautiously touch my cleft, no more than a breath, but enough to make me shudder and know where this is taking me. My imagination is caressing my breasts, my fantasies penetrating my secret depths and forbidden dreams are scourging my flesh.

Snuggle further down in the bedding; this is too good to hurry, let me make it last. It’s going to be a great weekend!

Purely for the girls!

If you are a girl and you are reading this, then there's a more than even chance that you are the sort of wicked little minx who enjoys being taken over the knee of the dominant man (or assertive woman) in your life, having your provocative little panties taken down and your bare bottom soundly spanked for what ever wickedness is was you did to earn it this time. (I shouldn't have written that. It's got me quite excited thinking about it!)

On that assumption, it occurs to me that you could copy and make prints of this picture, then keep them in your handbag to use as visiting cards. I've little doubt that if you meet an attractive male at an otherwise respectable dinner party, and give him your phone number scribbled on the back, he won't forget to call.

If any of you do, PLEASE let me know how you get on!

To mark the papal visit

With the Pope paying us a call, maybe it‘s an appropriate time to re-visit some naughty nuns, so here's a few to think about. Hard to say which is my favourite, but I've got a definite soft spot for the art class, the pretty young nuns enjoying an excuse to ogle a naked man, and one by the look of him with a very nice body. It's such a shame he hasn't got a stiffy, that would really give it all quite an edge.



I’m also very taken with the nun pleasuring herself in the light of the window, the photography captures the mood perfectly and the whole thing has a wonderful ethereal quality. You can almost share in her silent arousal as she gazes into the distance pondering on all the sexual pleasures she has abandoned.



And then something quite different, a pretty girl, stockinged and short skirted, about to have her knickers lowered by a nun getting ready to punish her young bottom with a long ruler. But this is no ordinary nun, her firm breasts are cross strapped and semi visible, so very likely this will be no ordinary punishment. Who knows, it may well be that fluids will have been exchanged before evensong.

Look out all you men!

It may be that Elizabeth is watching you!

Self Pleasuring

I'm slightly in love with her this lovely young thing with her lush sperm ripened breasts and her fingers at her moist entrance as she takes her body to the sexual paradise which at the moment is just out of reach, a swirling dream not quite in focus.

Is she alone, or is her man bestriding her now, his member hard and ready to bathe her in his emission, or is she alone and simply lost in the mists of her imagination. Maybe only a short while ago she was across her boyfriend's knee as he pinked her bottom with punishment for some transgression, and now she's reliving the arousal of each stinging spank as he put her in her place.

Whatever is in her mind I can tell from her face that she's close to it now and shortly she will be arching in her climax. How familiar this is to all of us, the wonderful democracy of self pleasuring.

Saphhic pleasures

Pure pleasure, the two of them exchanging stimulus through the shimmering black gossamer of their few garments. The kiss of the switch followed by a lick of a tongue. Sapphic mouths meeting and drinking from each other , bodies writhing in unison, then fingers exploring and stimulating, taking them to darker more vibrant places.

What are they here for other than for what they are doing now. To arouse and please and be satisfied, sex distilled into an image. I've been there, so often, and with my eyes half closed can feel and experience their experience.

Try it. It's wonderful.

A bit tied up

“No, I’m afraid she can’t come to the phone. She’s a bit tied up.”

A new look at old cartoons

Ninteen sixty three

In nineteen fifty three it was the Queen's coronation and man conquered Everest for the first time, but a mere ten years later other things happened which were much more exciting and changed the British sexual way of life for ever. According to Phillip Larkin, nineteen sixty three was the year sexual intercourse began which, famously, was a bit too early for him. From the public's reaction to a scandal that broke out the very same year, it was a bit too early for a lot of people.

In the early sixties, most people had heard of sexual intercourse, though not all of them had actually tried it for themselves. Sexual intercourse was what men did with their wives on a Saturday night with the landing light on, but that was about it, but then the Profumo affair hit the headlines which told us all far more things about sex than a lot of people wanted to know. No only had a government minister had sex with a call girl, but it was sex of a type people had scarcely heard of which involved whippings, spankings, mirrors and naked women in leather boots.






This was all something of a revalation and suddenly quite ordinary men realized for the fist time that there could be more to sex than they had appreciated up until now, and that maybe sex with their mistress might be just hat bit more fun if she kept her stockings on and if they tied her up first.





More significantly they also started to understand why spanking their pretty teenage daughter with her knickers down always gave them such a warm feeling, and that perhaps they'd better stop doing it. They moved on to spanking their secretary instead which resulted in an even warmer feeling and a glut of late nights at the office


As for the teenage daughter, freed of parental tyranny she bought herself a mini skirt and got spanked by her boyfriend for making such an exhibition of herself. This had the effect of getting them both massively excited, but as she was now on the pill they could thoroughly indulge themselves afterwards. All in all the world was becoming a happier and freer place and walking down the streets of fashionable London you could almost feel the pavements rumble with collective orgasms. Best of all, the concept of 'normal' in sex started to fade like the Cheshire Cat's grin. To hell with normal when kinky was so much more arousing, and the conclusion was that there's only one normal and that's what makes you feel good.



As for what makes me feel good in the bedroom, if you don’t know already, just keep reading the blog and it will all become very clear

And when you want your knickers back, you must come and ask for them!

Dear Elizabeth....

Dear Elizabeth,,

I’ve got nice legs and like to show them off when I can. When my befriend takes me out to dinner I always wear very short skirts or dresses. He seems to like this and flirts with me a lot over the table, and he enjoys it when the waiters pay me lots of attention and do thing like drop forks to give them an excuse to get a better look. But when we get home he always puts me straight across his knee and spanks me for being a little strumpet and a show off.

What should I do?

Poppy



Dear Poppy,

Wear even shorter skirts

Elizabeth



Dear Elizabeth,

My new boss is very attractive, but he’s also very strict. He spanks me for the making smallest mistake, and now I seem to be spending more time across is knee with my panties down than I do at my desk working.

Now he’s told me that on Wednesday he wants me to go back to his flat after work so he can punish me properly. He’s said to make sure I bring my toothbrush.

Should I be worried?

Caroline



Dear Caroline,

There’s no need to worry at all. Being spanked with a toothbrush won’t hurt a bit. Had he said to bring bathbrush it would have been different. That can be really painful.

Elizabeth


Dear Elizabeth,

I’m a studying for a degree in fine arts, but keep finding that a lot of the paintings are really quite sexy which I means I keep breaking off from my work to masturbate. I’m now spending more time masturbating than studying.

What should I do?

Lucinda


Dear Lucinda

Switch your course to a degree in erotic art. That will give you even more excuses to masturbate.

Elizabeth


Dear Elizabeth,

If I’m late for work or make mistakes, my boss punishes me by making me take my skirt off, so for the rest of the day all the men in the office get to see my stocking tops, suspenders, and knickers.

Do you have any advice?

Jane



Dear Jane,

Stop wearing knickers

Elizabeth