Archive for the ‘tawse/belt’ Category
Double Star Spanking
All the recent not-playing has left me with lots of time to read (oh, what a wild life I lead!) and I’ve continued on with my “Heinleins That Don’t Get Enough Attention” list. It seems I’m not the only one to realize what a great book Double Star is:
Whatever your viewpoint on SF, the fact that an award-winning book from a man generally named as one of the genre’s founding fathers (alongside Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke) is so little known amongst otherwise knowledgeable cultural journalists says something about the way the genre has been marginalised by the UK press. Now that I’ve read the book, such ignorance also seems a shame.
The replication in question concerns an egotistical actor who is called in to act as a double for a political leader after the man himself is kidnapped. The actor (The Great Lorenzo) successfully performs a tricky diplomatic mission on Mars and is then called on to encore after encore after it becomes clear that Joe Bonforte – the man he is pretending to be – is unlikely to be able to appear in public again.
So far so simple. The story moves at a sharp pace, helped along by Heinlein’s slick prose and the kind of wry good humour demonstrated when he describes the multi-consonant names (Rrringrill) he has ascribed to his Martians as sounding like “a leaking faucet”.
In common with much of the best SF, it’s not just the scientific ideas that make this book worthy of investigation. History does too. The political concerns and philosophy that Heinlein chooses to project onto his imagined future also provide an intriguing barometer of his times.
The book’s impassioned pleas for understanding and tolerance with regard to Martian culture, for instance, might not make for a subtle allegory, but it is moving given the book’s context in 1950s America. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that a few of those impressionable teenage white males who comprised the books original target audience went on to stand with Martin Luther King on the Washington Mall a few years later.
And, here, finally, is the quote that this whole post is about!
As my father used to say, ‘Larry, you are too durned pretty! If you don’t get off your lazy duff and learn the business, you are going to spend fifteen years as a juvenile, under the mistaken impression that you are an actor – then wind up selling candy in the lobby. “Stupid” and “pretty” are the two worst vices in show business – and you’re both.’
Then he would take off his belt and stimulate my brain. Father was a practical psychologist and believed that warming the glutei maximi with a strap drew excess blood away from a boy’s brain. While the theory may have been shaky, the results justified the method…
The images in this post are from Northern Spanking Institute’s epic space opera “Schoolgirls In Space”, which you should go watch immediately! Heinlein would have entirely approved of it!
The Upside Of Not Playing Much
It is actually true that every cloud has its silver lining – at least within the spankoverse.
Mr Defeu and I have not had overmuch playtime in the past few months – travel (including two weddings where we were in hotels surrounded by family members!) and poor health and other factors have all taken their toll on our play-life.
This weekend we were finally had a full weekend to just be with each other: no places to go, people to see, or anything pressing to do. So, of course, he went and decided to rebuild the media server, but happily – for me – this eventually became frustrating enough that he needed to have a special “break” with a strap, some canes, his hand, and me!
Once we’d gotten me in regulation knickers and a white shirt (the uniform dressing got only so far, partially because it was quite a warm day, and partially because we were rarin’ to go…) he gave me the quick-n-dirty “storyline” to our play: “So you’ve finally come over to see your uncle…” he growled, putting it into his voice that he was unhappy at me for neglecting my familial duties for so long.
As he was at that moment fondling my bottom, I decided that I must not have visited him recently because of his obvious lecherous ways!
Before I could compose that sentence, however, he started pulling me over his lap. “You know you need a spanking, girl…” he explained.
“But,” I said protesting, “I’ve been good!”
“Well, then, you need a spanking to remind you to continue being good.”
Well, that seemed quite unfair to me, so I decided that I might as well earn the inevitable spanking: “You’re just a dirty old pervert!” I exclaimed, with full disgust at the situation dripping from my every word.
No one will be surprised that shortly thereafter, hard spanks rained down on my bottom.
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Lost & Found: The picture you’ve been waiting for…
Funny to find this after yesterday’s post! Originally posted on 10th Apr 2006.
Well, you’ve all been good patient people, who have posted to let me know you like being voyeurs into my sex life [grins at you all] so here is an image from Mr Defeu’s birthday!

That’s a green school-girl gym-skirt you see on me. Oh, what a hot scene it was! My grades had been slipping, you see, and my teacher had me come over to his house for some discipline…. By this point my hands have been hit with a tawse, and the front of my thighs tawsed as well. I have been spanked, caned with a light cane in several positions, caned with a heavier cane also in couple postions, and then soundly fucked (in a variety of positions! And oh — sex with Mr Defeu is simply wonderful. But sex after being caned is beyond description.)
Then, a heavy nasty mean tawse was taken to my bottom (that would be the over-all redness you see) and then I got a final six from the cane which nearly had me climbing off the bed in pain!
It was amazing. After it was all done, and we were snuggling, I asked Mr Defeu, “Who’s birthday is it, again?!” Remember that picture of me looking all glow-y? I took that a few hours later.
I have a big long post to write about masochism another time, but suffice it to say, for now, that I am very happy with being a masochist and I am glad I am in the hands of someone who knows what to do with me!
Sunday scene & mentation on my masochism–part II
Continued from Part I. I should warn you that this turned into a long and not particularly coherent ramble, with thoughts coming out faster then I could write them down, and so it doesn’t go in any well-mapped direction, nor come to a tidy conclusion….
Happy reminisces aside (and he’s given me plenty of lovely sensation-memories to contemplate in bed while he’s off on a business trip this week) the main reason I shared this scene was because it has really got me thinking about my long strange trip around the land of which Sacher-Masoch is king. (Or at least the guy who gave it its name!)
I’ve written before about how I was surprised as hell when I first got into BDSM and discovered that even though I’d been fantasizing about pain all my life, it actually hurt, and how that made me back off and explore submission and other kinky stuff, certain I was a failed masochist who could only dream but not live up to my own fantasies.
And, I’ve written how Mr Defeu and the Senior cane changed all that one amazing evening.
But that “voyage of discovery” wasn’t over, and I’m still very much learning about the intersection of pain and me.
Coming from the BDSM world, the spanko world confused me. In BDSM, masochists are out, proud, and boast of their masochistic depths – indeed, the most sought after thing is to be a “bottomless pit” which can take all the pain a Top dishes out – and preferably orgasm from it. (Of course, not many people are actually like this, and this ideal probably alienates many people as much as it did me!)
On the other hand, so many spankos claim to not enjoy pain at all. They suffer CP to get other rewards, they claim. This point of view helped me, when first arriving from the cult of the masochist (“Ah! It’s okay that pain hurts!”) However, it soon got in my way, because there are indeed times when a stroke hits just right, and I process it as pleasure. Or I get a spanking that amps things up slowly, just right yet again, and I can actually come from it, just like a real big masochist, mommy!
That’s what made me want to change the common-use (within the BDSM/spanko communities) definition of masochist, from “someone who enjoys pain” to “someone who gets something from pain” (which is what the dictionary definition is, anyway). Because I think most people who want to be spanked (or otherwise caned, whipped, strapped, or paddled) fall somewhere in-between the 0 of “I get nothing from being spanked” to the 10 of “I am a raging masochist who will come from being skinned alive”.
But this post is ranging too far in scope – I actually meant to just be talking about my own self-discoveries. Just as sexuality is fluid, so is masochism, it seems. (Although of course, for me, I don’t think there is any real division between my sexuality and my masochism.) Some days I just want the CP equivalent of love pats. Other days I crave my fundament being turned entirely black and blue….
But even more, as I learn more about myself, my own ability to take more and different kinds of pain expands.
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Time Shift: The Story of Corporal Punishment
Last night Mr Defeu and I watched Time Shift: Series 10: Crime and Punishment – The Story of Corporal Punishment.

I have to say, it was really, really surreal to see CP images just playing on the television, not in a porn DVD, but as part of a show made for general viewing.
Here is the description (which is clearly made for people who are coming to the programme opposing CP…)
Timeshift lifts the veil on the taboo that is corporal punishment. What it reveals is a fascinating history spanning religion, the justice system, sex and education. Today it is a subject that is almost impossible to discuss in public, but it’s not that long since corporal punishment was a routine part of life. Surprising and enlightening, the programme invites us to leave our preconceptions at the door so that we may better understand how corporal punishment came to be so important for so long.
I’m still trying to fully sum up to myself what I thought of the show. It was one of those eye-opening reminders that the rest of the world does not live in my happy CP bubble, and that corporal punishment apologists are not seen with much sympathy out there in the cold, cruel, spanking-free world.
And of course, there is whole matter of how people who were against CP pointed out that it could be eroticised, and it was used in porn – which was seen as suitable condemnation, no further discussion needed…..
Since I was watching the programme with Mr Defeu, that means I was watching it with someone who had actually experienced CP at school, which meant I got to ask him questions about his own experiences, to supplement the programme … which improved it greatly, and made it a good deal more relevant. I’m hoping that he will have the time to post some of his own thoughts here.
Obviously, this was a discussion of real-life CP, not This Thing We Do. And of course, to get in the discussion of whether it’s okay to have CP in the real world, not just in consensual bedroom games, is well beyond what I intend to write about here (because I’ve had enough drama on my blog recently, thank you, and I find it really upsetting to dread checking my own blog’s comments, because yet another upsetting can of worms has been opened).
So I can’t really, I guess, blame the show for avoiding the intersection of CP in the real world, and the world of consensual adult CP. I suppose it was quite brave of them to make the show in the first place, although of course if you want to get good ratings, you can’t do enough programmes like this. Because, no matter what people have to say about CP, so many are fascinated by it.
And that actually says a lot about it all, to me! People find a reason to watch shows like this, no matter what they otherwise think about CP. And a desire to watch “real” CP clips from the past is certainly no “better” (for whatever value of “better” you want to use there) then watching consenting adults who are getting paid to take their whacks.




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