The Spanking Writers

Have you heard of the new Antony Gormley exhibition in London?

At the centre is an installation called “Blind Light”: a glass-walled box the size of a small room, filled with dense white mist, in which you’re invited to get lost for as long as you can bear it.

Once inside, you can see a few inches in front of your face; the rest is a bright, fluffy cloud, disembodied voices, and a vague outline of a human being when somebody stumbles within an arm’s reach.

While unveling the work, the sculptor wondered about the effect this will have on the visitors:

“On the one hand, you have lost all sense of location - left/right, front/back. You immediately are lost in space and that makes you anxious,” he said. “But at the same time I think there is a sense of euphoria that you are almost free of the body whilst being returned to it in a new way.

It’s a climatological experiment but also a sociological one. I don’t know how people will react to art of this kind. Light and water are two ingredients, but the third ingredient is the human content of the work and I will be interested to see how that evolves.”

Abel and I held hands for much of our trip inside.*

Except for the moment when we stopped, peered at each other through the cloud (you have to move really close together; really really close), and he whispered to me:

“Touch your toes.”

One smack, two, three. Not too loud; we don’t want to spook any other wanderers. Still, I wonder if I was the first person to have been spanked inside “Blind Light”? It’s only been open for a few days, right?

Obviously, we weren’t just fooling around in a room of artificial fog. We were experiencing this work of art as a couple: two lovers in a world in which we know nothing but each other, and as the mist threatens to rise between us, we cling to the intimate core of our relationship.

Without the eye of the beholder this piece of art misses its subject, it’s not complete - and we completed it with the most sincerity we could offer.

We were also fooling around a little, of course.

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* He admits to anxiety from the loss of direction; I was at the euphoric end: I spend most of my time lost anyway, and here I had an excuse to be.

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The hotel we’ve been staying in this weekend has a well-signposted ‘Ice Room’ on each floor. How very considerate, I thought, of them to help with their guests’ disciplinary needs, picturing naked girls being led through the corridors and locked in said room. There, they’d shiver and contemplate, until they were retrieved and led back to their bedroom for their thrashing.

I was most disappointed to find that, rather than a mini-igloo for miscreant daughters, wives, girlfriends and colleagues, the room merely contained an ice machine. Then again, I thought, even that might be a source of some interesting fun…

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I subscribe to about half a million blogs, but I keep myself from going insane by sorting all the feeds inside Bloglines into folders by topic. I’ve got a folder for “Spanking”, naturally - where stuff like Spanking Blog or Bonnie’s Blog goes. And then I’ve got a folder for “Writing” - where blogs by writers go.

And then I read it folder by folder as I sip my morning poison.
Yesterday morning I went through the “Spanking” folder, got more coffee, and clicked over to the “Writing” folder, and thought I was going insane, because I saw the following post title:

I am Lax! Lax, I say! I need a spanking, but hold the ball gag!

But… I thought I was reading the writing folder???? I closed my eyes and opened them again. Yup, that’s right, I was: the title was from the blog by Tamara Siler Jones, who writes awesome forensic fantasy, but not the kinky sort, as far as I know.

It was all explained soon enough: she was just reviewing a book called “Broken Skin” by Stuart MacBride, which sounds like a novel we ought to be aware of:

To say it’s naughty would be an extreme understatement. It’s all about detective Logan MacRae and his new sidekick John ‘Spanky’ Rickards and their search for a twisted sex killer as well as a serial rapist run amok.

Deviant sex in both directions, and yep, it’s that kind of book. Logan and Spanky investigate sex shops, bondage clubs, and porn studios, just for starters. …

[It’s a] gruesome, sick, twisted, and just plain wrong book, the sort of thing you can’t help but devour.

Now, as a rule, thrillers with kinky sex in them are not kind to us pervs.* Still, I don’t mind that the pervs commit gruesome murder left, right and centre, if I get some juicy, juicy details. Plus, I like reading books by people whom I first knew from blogs and writing forums.
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* Because in a thriller kinky sex usually goes wrong, and who causes it? That’s right, people like you.

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As Finland hosted last Saturday’s Eurovision Song Contest, I thought it was timely to post about an earlier example of that country’s artistic endeavour.

The epic work “Kalevala” was created by poet Elias Lonnrot in the mid-nineteenth century. I rather wish they’d performed scenes from it as the interval entertainment at Eurovision:

“See you do not, you poor bridegroom,
Ever treat this maiden badly;
Never teach her like a slave -
Never with a leather lash,
Never with the five-thonged knout -
Nor make her weep out on the stairs.
Never in her father’s house,
Never before was the maiden
Taught with whipstrokes like a slave.”

Quite right, too. Am I alone at marvelling at the detail of the research that gone into this apparently anti-spanking message?

The poem continues with more detailed advice:

Continue Reading »

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I’m not a very fashionable person on the whole. I like to know what’s in, but I don’t always go out of my way to dress according to current season’s demands, even if I like the style.* Jeans are good.

However, I quite like the sound of what they’ve got going on in India, if you believe this article:

For the moment, it seems to be all about spanking style! If one had to take a cue from international catwalks, the look du jour is chainmail micro-dresses, metallic whips, studded stilettos and leather eye masks. The dominatrix is ruling the catwalks – and don’t you dare disagree with her!

Apart from the fact that the described style is more general BDSM than spanking in particular, I could still see myself turning into a good little consumer if the new fashion hits the stores.

If the spanking theme is where it’s at, does this mean we can expect a great range of adult-sized little-girl dresses, cute pyjamas, replica uniforms and fashion paddles?

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* The so called “bold prints” on offer right now are simply hideous. It looks like somebody’s shredded the contents of her 80s closet, and then reassembled all the outfits - but in random colour combinations.

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Our dear friend Martha really is good at this scene stuff!

I was staying at her place the other night. She arrived home that evening with a crisp white envelope, neatly addressed to me. Inside, a letter, from her Headmaster.

With regret I must write to inform you that I had cause to speak to Martha regarding a disciplinary matter at school today. A routine IT check revealed that she had been accessing my private email…

The school views Martha’s actions as an extremely serious matter and proposes dealing with them accordingly. I have spoken to her today and she has admitted the security breach.

I would be grateful if you could complete the attached Disciplinary Form (Serious Offences Category) to indicate how you would prefer this to be dealt with, and return it to me, via Martha, at your earliest convenience, so that we may take the appropriate steps.

Attached was a form… I rejected the option of suspension or a meeting to discuss matters with the Headmaster, instead opting for both of the other two choices:

“I will deal with this matter myself at home and will inform the school of what action is taken”

and

“I sanction the use of corporal punishment by the school to resolve this matter”.

I don’t know… what some girls get up to in the office during the day (And thank goodness no-one else picked the form up from the office printer!!!)

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If I didn’t tell you where the following passages are from, you wouldn’t guess they are not from a spanking story of exceptional quality. They’re not, though: I’ve transcribed them from “The Tower of King’s Daughter” by Chaz Brenchley.

So, Julianne had been travelling to be wed at her father’s orders, but she had reasons to run away from her betrothed and his powerful uncle. Except the guy catches up with her.

“My lady, I am glad to have found you…”

“Do you hunt me with dogs, my lord baron?” she cut him off, at last allowing her outrage its escape. “With dogs?”

And she lifted a hand and slapped him, hard and fast and furious, raising her own little cloud of dust that might have had her laughing another day, in another mood.

“Am I a hare or a deer,” she went on against his startled silence, against the rising murmur of his companions, “or a runaway slave, to be hounded down this way? Am I an animal?”

“You are a runaway girl,” Imber said quietly, “in rebellion against a contract and your father’s will. If you were an Elessan yet, and in Elessi, you could be whipped for this. If my uncle were here and saw you strike me, you would be whipped regardless.”

“I think not.”

“You don’t know my uncle,” and there was a touch of a smile to his face and voice both, before he stilled it. “He may yet demand it, when he hears; but I can protect you from that, at least.”

And later, when Julianne and her lady companion are brought back to camp:

Imber’s uncle came striding into the tent with a riding-whip in his hand, and the dark look of a man who meant to use it. Elisande’s hands tightened on Julianne’s shoulders, from where she stood behind the chair; actually - after one brief, shaming moment of qualing inside, of wanting to beg and plead, don’t beat me, don’t hurt me, - Julianne thought her friend stood in greater danger than she did herself.

Even the Baron Imber… would not whip the daughter of the King’s Shadow. Certainly not before she was wed to his nephew. … But if you cannot whip the lady, whip the maid.

There was no punishment to come, and I was glad of that (at the moment I’m not into  unfair whippings delivered by objectionable characters, and much as the girl’s behaviour seemed to warrant it, a punishment would have been unfair nonetheless. To say why would be a spoiler; read the book.*)

So yes, no whipping for Julianne, but seriously, the prelude was so good and juicy, I just about melted reading it.

There’re also lots of other hot bits in the book: a large part of it deals with monastic discipline (yum!) and the relationship between a knight and his squire (yum!). The squire gets into trouble on just about every page, and has to be scolded a lot (yum! yum!). For a vanilla gay man, the author sure knows how to push a kinky girl’s buttons.**
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* Though beware: in the US it’s been split in two.
** Except: men flogged to death? Not hot. Necessary for the plot, but not hot.

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The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them.

This Week’s Picks
Joshua Three - Part Two (junohenry.wordpress.com…)
“Gently, I bit his earlobe, as his hands wandered lower to where i was primed, slick and ready for them.”

Who wants pretty blowjobs anyway? (lustylady.blogspot.com…)
“If any moment in that night would’ve gotten me off, that would’ve been it.”

Whore Sex Vs. Not Whore Sex, Episode 2 (thismuse.blogspot.com…)”I push him down again and have what I want.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Private Lives, Public Places (sugarbank.com…)

Editor’s Choice
Failing to have sex (deliciously-naughty.typepad.com…)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

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Warren Street station. The yóung woman next to me peers anxiously at the densely-typed sheet of instructions in her hand, then studies the tube map.

“You will report to the designated Punishment Centre at Pimlico at 5pm prompt, so that we may administer a birching to you, as ordered by the court.” *

It was already 4.30 ; no wonder she looked nervous…

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* At least, this is what I assume must have been written on her piece of paper.

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Far from championing women’s rights, Queen Victoria was passionately opposed to the emerging women’s emancipation movement. Eminent historian Lytton Strachey quoted a fascinating letter from Her Majesty on the subject, following an 1870 meeting in favour of Women’s Suffrage:

“The Queen is most anxious to enlist everyone who can speak or write to join in checking this mad, wicked folly of ‘Woman’s Rights,’ with all its attendant horrors, on which her poor feeble sex is bent, forgetting every sense of womanly feeling and propriety. Lady —– ought to get a GOOD WHIPPING. It is a subject which makes the Queen so furious that she cannot contain herself. God created men and women different–then let them remain each in their own position.”

I wondered which “Lady” might have been the one to be whipped. A quick search reveals that the most prominent such was Lady Amberley, whose diary for 1870 does indeed record one of the first meetings of the Women’s Suffrage Society. Aged 28 at the time, she was described as “vigorous, lively, witty, serious, original, and fearless”. Just the characteristics to make her eminently whippable, in my book!

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