The mafia punishment

Abel Perverting reality 4 Comments

A high-ceilinged barn, in the middle of nowhere. Straw on the floor. Dark outside, bright artificial light illuminating the gathering inside. No risk of the group being disturbed as they meted out the punishment.

The girl had just been brought in, her eyes widening as her blindfold had been taken off and she’d recognised her captors. Six men, eight maybe? Hardened types, each holding an implement – a crop here, switches there, a doubled belt over there.

She was grasped roughly from behind, her clothes half unbuttoned, half ripped from her body before she was thrust forward over the table, tied in position.

I spoke to my comrades – like me, senior figures in the local mafia. Expressed my disappointment at her behaviour, which had led to one of our brothers being caught and imprisoned. Hoped that they would not hold back in teaching her a lesson. Invited the first of them forward.

We took turns. Whipped her until she begged for mercy, and offered her none. Waited my turn, before administering her final thrashing: slow, calculating, hard.

And then took turns to punish her some more. Intimately, in ways that I couldn’t possible write about for fear of corrupting our more innocent readers…

Sometimes my dreams surprise me…

The best of the kinky rest – 4: The Edwardian maid

Abel In the neighbourhood 5 Comments

Pandora is a wonderful writer (and a truly lovely person, too). Her comments here always make us smile, and her blog entries often reveal an amazingly similar spanko DNA to our own scene ideas and fantasies.

She recently took a drawing by Brian Tarsis, first posted at The Spank Statement, as the basis for a delightful fantasy: it just had to feature as one of our summer selection from other blogs:

whipped maid

Pandora explains:

One of my oldest and favourite fantasies, as it happens, follows similar lines. I’m a maid in an Edwardian household; new to my role, and very nervous…

I’m learning quickly, though, and it’s not long before Sir Edgar decides to show me off to his gentleman friends. I’m instructed to serve drinks at a soiree. Sir takes me aside beforehand, telling me in a quiet voice that he thinks I have promise, that he trusts I’ll make him proud. I nod, anxious but eager to please.

But Sir Edgar’s intentions are less than honourable, and she’s bent over to be whipped:

The gentleman takes his time choosing a long cane from a selection proferred by a footman. He flexes a couple of them, whipping them through the air, before making his choice. The whole room has gathered round to watch. I don’t know what’s worse – the ones talking about me as if I was an inanimate object, or the ones laughing and joking about something else entirely, as if a young girl helplessly awaiting a thrashing she hasn’t earned were so commonplace it wasn’t worthy of notice…

Her flogging commences:

A wild cry escapes my lips as the first slicing stroke falls – whitehot, searing pain… and my struggling provokes the hands holding me down to grip my arms more firmly. The second stroke lands just as I’m beginning to regain my breath, and I let out a shriek at the force of it…

The whipping is slow and searing at first, painting my vulnerable cheeks with fierce stripes of pain. At a stroke which lands right on the crease between my buttocks and thighs, causing me to emit a particularly high-pitched yelp, I hear laughter from the gentry gathered around, and a smattering of applause. As the caning increases in force and speed, their appreciation rises to match.

This (along with so much else on Pandora’s Blog) is spanking writing of the hottest nature. Well worth a read!

Corporal punishment in Hogwarts

Admin Perverting reality 14 Comments

Yesterday I got struck by a question that’s never occurred to me before. Who do you think abolished corporal punishment in Hogwarts, and when?

We know they used to have it. They still had it when Ron’s parents went there (Molly mentions Arthur having some lasting marks after a prank), and Filch, who isn’t that old, also remembers it. But at some point it went away.

Who abolished it – was it Dumbledore or Dippet before him? And if it was Dumbledore, did he do it as soon as he became Headmaster, or some years into the post?

I discussed this question with Mija, and she reckons that Dumbledore would have done away with CP right after getting the headship, because it wouldn’t agree with his teaching philosophy.

I’m not so sure about that: after everything we’ve learned about the man, I can see him adopting that well-known “for your own good” attitude. I suspect that he abolished CP a lot more recently, perhaps when it became less common in the Muggle world. Maybe even after Harry’s parents and young Snape went to Hogwarts. Now there’s an entertaining thought…

What do you folks think?

The best of the kinky rest – 3: The whipping bench

Abel In the neighbourhood 3 Comments

Oh, the images that this photo creates- from a Czech spanking blog.

We assume it’s from a prison museum somwhere – we’d love to know where. And we’d love to find a carpenter to manufacture a reproduction.

Amidst lots of photos out there of whipping blocks, it’s the holes for the ankles that really did it for us with this one! A wonderful post, guaranteed to earn a place in our “best of” series.

whipping-bench

The Park Plaza perverts

Abel Real-life spanking 5 Comments

We spent a night recently – before setting out on our Viennese trip – in the lovely Park Plaza hotel, near County Hall in London. Great location, great suite, shame they can’t mix a decent cocktail.

My inner trainspotter (very inner!) was delighted to find our room had a marvellous view over Waterloo station: our own private train set to watch from on high through floor-to-ceiling windows.

My not-all-inner trainspotter was equally delighted. Haron and Cath were called into the station master’s office. He scolded them for being caught without tickets, pointed out all of the decent, honest folks down on the platforms below who’d doubtless paid their fares.

Stripped, the girls were made to bend forward with their hands on the windows. Told to watch the station as they took their punishment. Six strokes each with the cane followed, with much squealing (especially, it must be said, from Haron).

And then I took up my trusty Lochgelly: “The caning was for the return journey to Waterloo, on which you were caught. Yet you can’t have had tickets for the outward journey either.” Six each with the tawse followed. Much squealing again. From them both, this time.

They looked sorry for themselves, it must be said. Even sorrier when I asked, “And which of you had the idea to evade your fares this morning?” Cath, bravely, owned up: six more of the XH seared home. And then we could cuddle.

Now, there’s an interesting footnote to the scene, for I had to leave the girls in the room shortly afterwards to catch a train from the station down below. As I wandered along the platform, I noticed that the darkened glass in the windows didn’t seem quite so darkened as we’d maybe imagined. I texted Haron: “I’m on the platform. Come to the window and wave.”

Two cheerful young ladies appeared moments later: stark naked, waving enthusiastically. Clearly visible to anyone looking up. As indeed they must have been whilst being thrashed a half hour or so ealier. I am so glad to have offered such a salutary lesson in the penalties for fare dodging not only to my two girls, but to that morning’s entire customer base of South West Trains.

Another girl’s punishment

Admin Perverting reality 2 Comments

Taking notes at a leather-topped desk in the library, I noticed that indentations from the pressure of the pen stayed on the leather for a while after you were finished.

I imagined watching a girl at another desk work hard all morning, scribbling away on her notepaper, hardly noticing anything around. When she finished, her work, she would sigh with relief, leaning back in her chair and checking what she’s written, while abscent-mindedly massaging her wrist. Then she wouldglance at the watch, hurriedly gather her paper and leave.

I would move to her desk, because it’s better lit, with a more comfortable chair. And only as I start laying out my own notes, would I notice the traces in the leather, the ghost of that other girl’s work.

She hasn’t been taking notes: she was writing lines: “I will always complete my assignments on time and to the best of my ability. I will always complete my assignments on time and to the best of my ability.” Hundreds of lines, judging by the time she has taken over them.

I would cross my fingers on her behalf, that she hands the lines in on time, and that they are neat enough to satisfy her tutor. I have a fair idea of what would happen if he were displeased.

The best of the kinky rest – 1: Kneeling, naked

Abel In the neighbourhood 2 Comments

It’s now traditional for us to present a summer round-up of posts that we’ve particularly enjoyed on other blogs, in the hope that it might point our readers to other as-yet-undiscovered sources of naughtiness to while away the hours.

Well, I say ‘traditional’. We did it last year, and felt like doing it again this year. So that makes it a tradition, right?

We tend to steer clear of a few things here at The Spanking Writers – including photos of girls being spanked: there are plenty of other places that you can turn to for that. But cartoons, illustrations, photos of old punishment implements – well, we just can’t resist. So that’s our theme for this year’s “best of” series, which will appear daily for the next week or so, in addition to our regular posts.

To start with: how about this – from “Au fil de Jours”:

naked and kneeling

The author of the post didn’t know the origins of the sketch: if anyone has any ideas, we’d love to know!

A polished performance

Admin Real-life spanking 7 Comments

(Curtain opens to reveal a peaceful Sunday morning scene. ABEL is polishing his work shoes. SMUDGE and HARON are hanging around, watching.)

ABEL: There. (Puts down the tube of polish, satisfied.)
SMUDGE grabs the tube and slashes out with it, as though fencing, towards ABEL. He leans away at the last second.
ABEL: Put down that polish, young lady.
SMUDGE: But I want to put it on you!
ABEL: You can’t. It doesn’t come off.
SMUDGE: Good! (Dashes towards ABEL again, polish at the ready. He twists away again.)
ABEL: If any of that polish ends up on me, I will bend you over my knee and spank you. Hard.
SMUDGE: No!
ABEL: Oh, yes. You’ve had your warning.
SMUDGE (petulantly): That’s not fair?
ABEL: Actions. Consequences. It’s fair.
SMUDGE: But I want to put the polish on you?
ABEL: You know what will happen if you do.
SMUDGE: But I don’t want a spanking?
ABEL: Well, then leave that polish.
SMUDGE (petulantly): But I want to put it on you!
ABEL: You know what will happen then.
SMUDGE: But… I really don’t want a spanking!
ABEL: So put the polish away.
SMUDGE: Can I put just a tiny bit on you?
ABEL: No.
SMUDGE (turning to HARON): Can you put some polish on him?
HARON: He said, “If any of the polish ends up on me, you’ll get a spanking.” I think, this means you get a spanking even if it’s me who does it.
ABEL: That’s right.
SMUDGE looks tortured. Tentatively reaches out and puts a tiny spot of polish on Abel’s forearm.
HARON: (sigh.)
ABEL: (sigh).
SMUDGE: Er… heehee?
ABEL: Come here.

Curtain closes.

Pondering punishments past

Abel Perverting reality 4 Comments

I’m in a dilemma.

See, the Imperial Library in Vienna is one of those fine, atmospheric rooms which really ought to have given rise to a spanking at some point in its distinguished history. But I can’t decide on why this might have been.

vienna library

Would a girl working for a bookseller have tried to sneak out some precious volume, and been caught in the act? Might she have been more cunning, taking in his somewhat inferior copy of a particular book and trying to swap it for the library’s more valuable copy?

Might some distinguished member of the court have sent his young assistant across to fetch some tome that he required for his work – only for her to drop the priceless volume, causing irreperable damage?

Could one of the Archduchesses have finally been tracked down to a dark corner of the library, where she’d be curled up reading some favourite passage – ending hours of searching by the Imperial Guards, her father terrified that his daughter (who’d misbehaved and been sent to her room) had been kidnapped by some enemy of the state.

And would the punishment have taken place in the library itself, or behind the heavy oak door adjoining its entrance, home to the collection’s Director?