A spanking new year to all!

As we say goodbye to 2011 and hello to 2012 I’d just like to say thank you to everyone who has popped by my little blog this year, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.

I wish you all a happy, healthy and kinky new year, and I hope that none of you spend NYE in the position the poor young lady pictured above finds herself… stuck in the corner of her lounge (why did she agree to have it made up as a classroom?), feeling every inch the naughty schoolgirl she is dressed as, miserable whilst in houses all around people celebrate and party, and painfully aware that she will only leave that boring corner when it is time for her thrashing.

I’m kidding, of course: I hope that all the naughty girls and boys reading this are thoroughly taken in hand tonight and that you get all the scoldings, corner time and spankings you deserve in 2012!

xxx

Update, 1/1/2012: I really should be careful what I wish for... I'm going to find myself in that unfortunate young lady's position this very afternoon! My silly old teacher says my "behaviour has been very poor recently" and I'm "clearly long overdue a smacked bottom." *pout*

Seasonal spankings... six!

For our sixth and final seasonal spanking (for this year, anyway) we have some lovely pics from My Spanking Roommate depicting a naughty elf (is there any other kind?) going over her friend's knee and getting a very sound spanking:

And just look at the results!

Merry Christmas! xxx

Seasonal spankings... five!

I'm not sure what exact naughtiness is involved in today's seasonal spanking, but I think it's safe to assume that the little miss pictured below has been bratty to Santa. First she gets a good scolding...

...then a good spanking...

...that'll teach her!

The pics are of course courtesy of the wonderful Punished Brats site and feature Richard Windsor as Santa and the lovely Juliet Valentina as the naughty schoolgirl. Oh, how I'd love to have that brat over my knee!

Seasonal spankings... four!

It seems there is no shortage of naughty girls who need to be spanked at Christmas time. Our pictures today come from Sarah Gregory Spanking and feature a pair of mischievous elves getting their just desserts across Mr Claus's knee:

Our two girls may well be magical pixies but, like all little brats, they seem very sorry for their naughtiness once their bottoms have been bared and thoroughly tanned...

I wonder if Santa is hiring? :>

Gallery 1
Gallery 2
Gallery 3 

Seasonal spankings... three!

Santa Claus really is a marvel. Not only does he spend all year making presents for every boy and girl in the world (before whizzing round delivering them all in one night), he also keeps a list of who has been naughty and who has been nice and administers a badly-needed spanking to those on the naughty list. And, as the third picture in our little seasonal series shows, he even finds the time to spank naughty Christmas tree fairies!

What a lovely picture! And what a practiced OTK spanker Santa obviously is: that naughty girl isn't going anywhere until she's good and sorry!

P.S. We got our first snowfall last night so I awoke to a snowy winter wonderland. Very co-o-ld!

Seasonal spankings... two!

If the pictures I've looked through for this feature are any guide, then little brats in pigtails feature heavily on Santa's naughty list. Our second picture, a cartoon by the obviously-talented 'Sudaka', shows just such a girl getting a bare-bottom spanking from a shopping mall Santa as the manager looks on.

How I wish I was in her shoes! Held firmly in place and spanked to tears, her cute pink knickers round her ankles, her peachy little bottom glowing a very sore red... yum! And I love her expression!

If I was to change one thing about the picture, though, it would be the manager's speech bubble. It's certainly funny as it stands, but I'd personally prefer it if he approved of Santa's hands-on correction. More projection on my part, I guess: I can really imagine being the well-spanked naughty girl over Santa's knee, my face streaked with tears of shame and impotent frustration, glancing anxiously back, hoping that the manager's intervention meant my spanking was about to end... only to be told that I have plenty more coming!

So, with that in mind, here is my amended version...

"Oh! But--!" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "WAAAHH!!"

Seasonal spankings... one!

Hello spankers and spankees!

Sorry once again for the quietness. Fear not, I haven't been eaten by a penguin – I've just been run off my feet these last few weeks so blogging has had to take a back seat. Anyway, as the Christmas season is upon us I thought it would be nice to start a little series of lighthearted yuletide posts. And of course to feature a few pictures of naughty girls getting just what they deserve from Santa!

First up, it looks like this little girl has been naughty this year...

...so naughty in fact that I don't think a plate of cookies is going to make up for it.

I wonder what Santa is going to give her? Somehow, I rather fancy that it will involve putting the spoilt little madam over his knee, pulling the drop seat of her romper suit down, and spanking her bare bottom til it's just as red as his suit!

Update: Oh dear, it looks like I was right...

Brrr!

 

I live in England and the weather has taken a decided turn for the chillier here (although the picture above is still a slight exaggeration at present). Should one need to venture out, scarves and hats and stockings and thick coats are very much the order of the day. I’m sure the same is true in many other northern hemisphere places.

I mention this for two reasons. One, I hope that my readers, wherever you may be, stay nice and warm this winter. Two, I can imagine few things nicer (and more warming) on returning home from the icy tundra than a good, long, bare bottom spanking. I’m picturing a nice, red, glowing pair of squirming cheeks...

...and I very much hope that I am given just that in the very near future by my dear Better Half x

Ouch...

Well, now I can honestly say that I know what it feels like to be caned.

It stings! Delightfully, wonderfully; there really is nothing else quite like it.

As promised, last night my better half and I played 'detention'. After nervously knocking on the bedroom teacher's office door, I was (as is customary) given a good telling-off for my bad behaviour and poor school grades. Midway through the lecture, BH nonchalantly picked up his new implement.

"Do you know what this is, girl?" he asked, ominously flexing the crooked-handled cane.

"Yes, Sir," I timidly answered.

"What is it?"

"A cane, Sir."

"That's correct. It is a cane. And do you know what canes are for?"

"For... punishing naughty girls, Sir?"

"Exactly. They are for punishing naughty little girls, like you. As your behaviour has shown no sign of improvement despite all the detentions you have received, I have decided that a more severe method of discipline is called for. After going across my knee for a good bare bottom spanking you will bend over and touch your toes for your first dose of the cane. Twelve strokes, each of which you will count and thank me for."

"Oh, but Sir! I don't want the cane!"

"Silence, girl! Such insolence only proves just how badly you need it! You have just earned yourself two extra strokes. I would advise you to watch your tongue unless you want to earn yet more."

I was scolded for a while longer, feeling very foolish (and very horny) in my all-too-authentic school uniform, occasionally fearfully raising my gaze from my feet to glimpse the cane. Having been thoroughly dressed-down and left in no doubt as to the punishment I could expect, within the next minute I was across my strict teacher's knee, my pleated grey school skirt pinned to my back by his firm hand, my white cotton knickers around my knees. I was spanked, hard, for easily ten minutes, and scolded throughout. (I do love to be scolded!)

And then it was time for the cane. I was made to stand and touch my toes, my knickers round my ankles, my skirt once again humiliatingly flipped up to leave my bottom bared and defenceless. A long, charged silence. Then...

"Ready, girl?

"Yes, Sir..." I whimpered uncertainly.

Another long, electrifying pause. I held my breath, feeling every inch the wayward little schoolgirl about to be deservedly punished.

Then with a sudden fearsome SWISH! the cane cut through the air and licked my bare bottom with a sharp, fiery sting.

"Ooh! One... thank you, Sir!"

SWISH! came a second stroke, equally firm and equally painful, a little lower on my cheeks this time.

"Two... thank you, Sir!"

SWISH!

"Ow! Three, thank you, Sir!"

I took eight hard strokes without losing position, despite the burning discomfort in my rear increasing with each. But the ninth made me jump up and clasp my hands to my bottom.

"YOUNG LADY! What did I tell you about remaining in position? GET BACK DOWN THIS INSTANT."

I fearfully bent over once more and stood tremblingly anticipating the remainder of my punishment. As I hadn't counted it, I was given the ninth stroke again, and two more extras were added to the end. Strokes ten, eleven and twelve were delivered lower than the preceding ones, across the lowest extent of my buttocks, and they stung terribly. But the four extras were even worse. The cane was placed against my bottom for a moment. Silence. Then it was suddenly drawn back and fiercely applied to the exact same latitude four times in quick succession. "OOH! OW! OWW! OWWW!!" I howled.

"Now, into the corner with you," ordered my stern teacher, quite unmoved by my discomfort. "And you had better believe that, should your behaviour fail to improve, you will feel the cane many times in the future!"

Mmmmm! I LOVE it! x

Swish!

The cane arrived today. My naughty little bottom has yet to feel its sting, but as BH and I will be spending tomorrow evening playing 'detention', with me in the role of a schoolgirl and he as a strict teacher, I can safely predict that I will be sitting less comfortably on Sunday.

How dreadfully humiliating it will be... me, a grown woman, dressed in my school uniform and scolded for misbehaviour...

...then made to write lines...

...then bent over, skirt up and knickers down, for a good thrashing with the cane...

SWISH! "Oooh!"

SWISH! "Oww!"

SWISH! "OW! Oh, please, Sir!"

"I won't tell you again, girl – get back down into position! Now, for your impertinence we will begin again, with two extra. Dare to lose position again and believe me you'll be sorry."

SWISH! *sob*

SWISH! *howl*

SWISH! *whimper*

...then put into the corner, hands on head, my sore, striped bare bottom on display...

...then thrown onto the bed and fucked silly...

YUM!!! Is it Saturday yet? :-D

Ooh, not the cane, Sir!

My naughty bottom has been punished with many things, but never, to date, with the cane. That, though, is soon to change, as my better half has just ordered one.

I'm a little afraid – as any girl facing the prospect of a caning should be – but I'm far, far more excited. I've seen plenty of videos where girls are caned, and it looks wonderful. It's been ordered now, and it's simply a matter of waiting for it to arrive. The wait itself is a turn-on. It's as if I'm sitting outside the Headmaster's office, acutely aware that strict punishment for my misbehaviour is inevitable... my skirt will be going up and my knickers coming down, and the fearsome rattan will be applied to my bare bottom, whether I like it or not...

I can't wait!

If it's not one thing…

…it’s another. After being kept away from you by work and travel, I’ve spent the last few days tucked up in bed with a terrible cold. I’m much better now, though, so normal naughty service is now (finally) resumed!

Naughty little reader

A nice little thing Cara Bristol has on her blog is a reading list where she catalogues books she has read. I'm not above pinching good ideas, so I thought it might be nice to write now and then about things I've read myself. I can't (as far as I know) have a separate page like Cara does, so I'll just post them here.

I'm quite an eclectic reader, which you will no doubt deduce from the ten books I'm listing (in no particular order) for starters...

Philippa Gregory, The Virgin's Lover
Clare Dudman, 98 Reasons for Being
Philip Kemp, Blushing at Both Ends
Jeanette Winterson, The PowerBook
Enid Blyton, The Naughtiest Girl in the School
Judy Parkinson, Spilling the Beans on the Cat's Pyjamas
Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber
Umberto Eco, Serendipities
Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
James Lipton, An Exaltation of Larks

Have any devoted Hasler-watchers read any of these? If you have, I'd love to hear what you made of them.

Oh, and incidentally (courtesy of the last book on the list), did you know that the collective term for sadomasochists is a 'rack'? :-)

Naughty thought... I'll have to list ten very naughty books next time; books that a good little girl like me shouldn't be reading...

...I wonder what you would do, for example, if you caught me reading this?

Zzz...

Hello my sweets, and sorry for the quietness. Work has been terribly demanding this past week or so and I've just had too little time and energy to post. I'll pen something soon, I promise, but I've just finished a thirteen-hour day and I'm ready for some Zs.

Sweet dreams xxx

It's back to school time!

The good folks at Neon have finished working their magic on the latest collaboration between Becky and myself, so Kindle owners with a kinky bent now have a new choice of guilty pleasure. The stories all involve adults being treated like naughty schoolchildren, so painful humiliation is very much to the fore.

Isn’t the cover great, by the way? Monica really is a clever girl. She’s captured that sense of fearful anticipation perfectly: the naughty schoolgirl, ready in position for her punishment, glances back over her shoulder with a frown of timid anxiety on her pretty face. She squirms with the sure knowledge that her strict teacher is soon to wallop her pert little bottom a deep, sore red, and leave her a very tearful, very sorry little miscreant. Ooohh! :-) The only thing is, I don’t know which I want more: to spank the girl or to be her!

The book includes M/F, F/M and F/F discipline, and it’s all very, very naughty. So if you like the sound of going on a trip back to school – uniforms and detentions and spankings included – check out the free sample on Amazon to get a flavour of the escapist treats on offer. But be warned: reading in dorms after lights out is against school rules...

Report to Miss Hasler's office

 

Hello! Apologies for the week-ish-long break in posting; I was away for work (as I also was at the beginning of October). And, hard as it may be to believe nowadays, I was in a place with no internet access!

Anyway, I’m back now. I hope you’re all in rude health and that you’ve all been good little girls and boys.

What’s that? You’ve been naughty? Well, that won’t do. It won’t do at all. Now – stop playing with your fingers; only naughty little brats do that – I think you need to put your hands on your head and confess all the naughty things you’ve done while I’ve been away. Yes, every last one. If I find out later that you’ve kept something from me you’ll be very, very sorry.

Excuse me? You don’t want to sit with your hands on your head? I have never heard such insolence! Hands on your head. NOW. If they come down again without my permission they’ll feel my ruler on them. Yes, you do look foolish. I hope you feel it. I can assure you that you will feel far more foolish when you are over my knee having your bare bottom deservedly tanned.

Now, I believe you were going to tell me exactly what you have been doing with yourself in my absence.

I beg your pardon?! Touching yourself where? Whilst looking at pictures of what?

You NAUGHTY child! You know perfectly well that you are strictly forbidden to do those wicked things.

It’s no good making excuses. I am VERY cross with you, and I am going to give you exactly what you deserve – a punishment that leaves you unable to sit for a long time. After a long, hard hand spanking on the bare, you will receive fifty good, hard swats with the paddle. Thirty for your filthy activities, and twenty for your insolence. If you dare speak out of turn whilst over my knee you’ll receive a further twenty. Once your naughty bottom has been satisfactorily warmed with the paddle you will ask me very nicely to bend you over and give you twelve of the best with the cane. Yes, you will count each stroke and thank me for it. And be warned: one word of protest at any point and we will begin your punishment all over again. Is that clear? Good. I have far better things to do with my time than tarry with silly little brats like you.

Now, I think a good long spell in the corner is called for. I want you to think about the thrashing you have in store, and to reflect upon the misbehaviour that has earned it. It's no use whimpering – you only have yourself to blame!

Get that nose in the corner, you miserable wretch! Any more dawdling and you'll do it with your knickers round your ankles!

Image copyright the wonderful School Mistress Fantasy.

You know you’re kinky when…

Now, I know that kink is a many-splendoured thing, with as many facets and forms of expression as there are stars in the sky...

...but I was lying in bed the other night, and I started thinking about things that my own kink made me see just a little bit differently to a non-kinky person. A few are listed below; I’ll no doubt jot others down as and when they pop into my naughty little mind.

You know you’re kinky when...

• Somebody says they’re ‘all tied up’ and you automatically think of something else entirely.
• You evaluate an item’s potential for spanking, bondage and/or fucking purposes when shopping for furniture.
• Innocuous household objects like spatulas, hairbrushes, clothes pegs and slippers give you a giddy little feeling inside.
• School uniform shops always catch your eye even though you don’t have kids at school.
• You wonder about people who talk about being degraded, humiliated and beaten as if they were exclusively bad things.

Readers are of course welcome to share their thoughts on the above, or to provide any other naughty examples they can think of xxx

Legs kicking futilely

I was given a good hiding last night. Whilst that may not be especially unusual in itself, the position I received it in was new and very nice indeed.

I was on the bed, on all fours, having just pleasured the cock of my better half who stood beside the bed. Without warning I was pushed down onto my front and ordered to bend over the end of the bed, as if I was looking for something underneath it. BH then yanked my knickers down to my knees, climbed onto the bed, knelt on top of my legs and thrashed my bare, wriggling cheeks with the riding crop. It was so sexy to be so completely trapped and helpless – I wasn’t going anywhere! The crop was delivered very firmly and at considerable length, and I was a very sorry little madam by the end, with a glowing and very sore behind.

I was then, of course, given a very good seeing-to.

My bottom is still sore today, and the little sting I feel each time I sit down brings the whole punishment rushing back to the forefront of my mind. Just as it should for naughty girls!

“And just WHAT is going on in here?!”

“That’s quite enough wallowing in nostalgia (for a day or two, at least) for a bygone age of schooling…” Oh, who am I kidding? Here’s another lovely piece of old-fashioned school imagery for you to enjoy.

And what naughty schoolgirls it depicts! Fooling around in class like that – one can only imagine the punishment such behaviour will earn them.

So let’s go ahead and imagine...

Such a commotion as that in Room 4B would undoubtedly attract the attention of the Headmistress. And sure enough that formidable lady soon enters. A petrified hush immediately falls across the previously chaotic classroom.

The girls are of course severely reprimanded for their unspeakable behaviour, and informed in no uncertain terms that they will be made sorry for it. To that end they are instructed to bend over their desks, skirts raised, and each and every girl is given six of the best. Poor Libby Turner, who took no part in the pandemonium, is given two extra for protesting that she doesn’t deserve the cane.

The teacher, Miss Allenby, also receives a stinging rebuke for failing so egregiously to maintain order in her class. And, to her dismay, she is herself treated to a dose of the cane as a badly-needed reminder of her duties. Just like the girls in her class, she is made to raise her skirt and bend over her desk. "Th-thank you, Headmistress," she sniffs after each searing stroke. Once suitably disciplined she pulls her tight pencil skirt back down over her plump, welted bottom and timorously obeys the Headmistress's command to stand in the corner.

The girls spend the remainder of the lesson writing lines under the stern gaze of the Headmistress. When dismissed, they file out in silence. They will, however, return to Room 4B that evening for more of the same, for each girl is given a detention and a thousand lines.

The star-sown sky spread cloudless

Okay. That’s quite enough wallowing in nostalgia (for a day or two, at least) for a bygone age of schooling I wasn’t actually alive during – time to write about something else.

How about Gothic literature, and its commonalities with spanking fiction? Sound interesting? Of course it does! Then gather round and I’ll begin.

When someone mentions ‘Gothic literature’, what do you think of? Vampires, werewolves and ghosts? Twilight? Fair enough if so, for the supernatural has always been an element within the Gothic (going right back to The Castle of Otranto), but it is not the case that it is all that the genre is about. Interpretations offered by various literary theorists on what the Gothic novel might represent include: a critique of the social position of women; a subversive commentary on the constructed nature of society itself; an exploration of the concept of identity, the relationship between literature and reality, and the border between the conscious and unconscious mind… there are probably as many possible readings as there are Gothic texts.

But, as fascinating as these things may be, I’m going to focus on those elements that resonate most strongly with our favourite little genre and its tales of smacked bottoms and sexual domination.

First and foremost, both genres are – like the ‘romance’ genre that overlaps with each – primarily forms of escapism that foreground the sensational (i.e. emotion, feeling, the sensations) rather than externalities such as scientific facts or historical events. In the Gothic, this generally takes the form of terror; in BDSM fiction it might be sexual desire and satisfaction, the effects of punishment (such as the physical pain and the humiliation and/or pleasure of a spanking), or the psychological and emotional aspects of subservience.

Both genres (typically) have a female protagonist. In the Gothic, this female protagonist is taken from her normative, everyday starting point and dropped into a strange and potentially threatening situation (in early Gothic texts, this would involve the heroine physically travelling to a strange foreign land, or a mysterious old castle, but it could just as effectively be a journey of the mind). She is young, innocent and vulnerable, and is subjected to all manner of beastly, frightening things (cue the supernatural) during her spell within the nightmarish Gothic world. She eventually returns to her home, changed for her experiences.

Any of that sound familiar? It should! Just as in the Gothic, in BDSM fiction the central character undergoes a process of transformation, whether that be a full-blown rite of passage from innocence to sexual experience, a straightforward change in attitude as the result of a punishment, a journey into or through a sub/dom relationship, or any other form of development or change induced by his/her experiences.

Here's an extract from Ann Radcliffe's The Italian that exemplifies some of the things I've described: "Some strange mystery seemed to lurk in the narrative she had just heard, which she wished, yet dreaded to develope; and when, at length, Ellena appeared with the miniature, she took it in trembling eagerness, and having gazed upon it for an instant, her complexion faded and she fainted."

And here's a remarkably similar snippet from The Story of O: "Whatever courage, or whatever surge of overwhelming desire she may have had, she felt herself suddenly grow so weak as she was about to reply that she slipped to the floor, her dress in full bloom around her, and in the silence Sir Stephen's hollow voice remarked that fear was becoming to her too."

One more key commonality is that, within both the Gothic space and the BDSM space, the rules of the ‘outside world’ are changed in some way or simply don’t apply. Crucially, this means that, for the heroine (and through her, the reader), reality becomes subjective: she can’t trust her senses. She can’t rely on her knowledge of the outside world. She must instead negotiate an altered reality; one constructed and controlled by a person or force that has nefarious or libidinous designs on her. If that means that she has to adjust to being forced into the role of a maid/plaything/sex toy who is thrashed for the slightest infringement of her captor’s rules, then that’s too bad!

Combine this twisted reality with a focus on the sensational and you have two genres that are a) basically free from the constraints of everyday life and propriety (in short, anything goes!) and b) geared towards evoking a suitably sensational, vicarious response in the reader.

I love them both, but then I love to imagine being a helpless little waif at the mercy of a lustful, dominating He or She (and being chased round a castle in a gorgeous frock like the one Hazel Court wears above)...

Jolly hockey sticks

Just a picture post today. But isn’t this a wonderful picture? It perfectly captures the era I would love to have gone to school in.

Maybe if I make a wish before closing my eyes in bed tonight...

Seven sevens are forty-nine...

I love school. To be more specific, I love the kinky fantasy of attending a school where the atmosphere is repressive, learning is via old-fashioned teaching methods, discipline is unremittingly severe and badly-behaved young ladies (and/or young men) can expect the dunce’s cap and very sore bottoms. Me and three million others, I know, but hey. The whole thing is just really sexy to me.

I love the idea of dressing (compulsorily) in a dull, breast-flattening pinafore, sitting at a heavy wooden desk* in a drab, draughty classroom, gazing up at the chalky blackboard (flanked by canes) at the front of the room, knowing at all times that the strict teacher (with mortar board) conducting the lesson will not hesitate to give any girl foolish enough to misbehave exactly what she deserves**...

...and the only sounds during each and every long, cheerless class are the teacher’s voice, the scratching of chalk on the board and pen nibs on exercise books, the grating of chair legs on the wooden floor, and the slow, monotonous ticking of the old clock on the wall...

YUM! :-)

But I have a confession to make. I’m actually too young to have attended (senior) school when it was anything like that. Corporal punishment wasn’t a possibility, so I never received it. No pinafores either. Yet despite never having ‘lived’ it, the thought of attending such a school – for real, as a pupil, day after day, year after year – is one of my heart’s fondest desires, and funnily enough it was even when I was at school. I'm so envious of those people who got to experience ‘old-school’ schooling for real!

So if any readers happen to have an age-reducing machine and/or a time machine, do write in.

*We did have these at my primary school: ancient desks with inkwells and heavy wooden lids. I would dearly love to have one of them at home now.

**Not that that necessarily has to be a spanking, though the ever-present possibility of one (or any other strict, humiliating punishment) is an important part of the old-fashioned school's overall appeal. More important, to me, is the thought of being irrevocably situated within an immersive, all-pervading social reality in which all of the above is just normal and taken quite for granted: a day-to-day suffused with the “repressive atmosphere” I mentioned in opening. I would have LOVED to have had a school life like that, rather than the bland one I did. Don’t know I’m born, do I? ;-)

Spanking little Harriet

I was introduced to a new toy yesterday. Wordle is a clever website that creates word clouds (as in the image above) from any text you feed it. The more often a word occurs in the text, the larger it appears in the cloud. The above is a word cloud of one of my new stories. Isn't it pretty?

As well as being visually pleasing (to my eye, at least), word clouds also make for an interesting form of instant textual representation, reminiscent of concrete poetry: it's almost as if they turn prose into such via a transformative distillation. And while they won't reveal the plot of a story, they certainly provide a hint as to its themes and concerns. I wonder if the Harriet mentioned above is naughty and receives a spanking? It certainly looks like it. And quite possibly in uniform, too...

By way of comparison (but not literary comparison!) here's a word cloud of Jane Eyre:

Ooh, lots of 'now' there. And 'must', too. So peremptory! *swoon*

Further reading

I've added a new blog to my list (over there, on the right, just below the schoolgirl being spanked) called SEXUELLE: it's the blog of erotic author Elizabeth Forster and I recommend it highly. Elizabeth sounds like a very naughty girl, and I'm sure she would appreciate advice from readers on just how she should be punished.

Just like me, in fact! x

It's too late for sorry, my girl!

Well, that’s that. I’ve tweaked all I can tweak. I’m all tweaked out. And I’ve sent my stories to the publisher, too.

If I may, I will share some more musings while we wait for them to do their thing and Kindleify my scribblings.

Devoted Hasler-watchers may be interested to hear that one of my new stories marks a slight departure in that it is written in the first person, rather than my usual third-person, and that the first person in question is a married man (who takes his naughty wife in hand, naturellement). It was really interesting to place myself in his shoes – as per my last post on characterisation – and to try to imagine and represent his thoughts and feelings as he dominated his partner; particularly as he had never spanked her before. I imagine that the process (even allowing for the gender-hopping!) is not entirely dissimilar to the mental and emotional shift required of a BDSM ‘switch’ when he or she changes role.

The naughty wife in question is a teacher by profession, by the way, so she can also be said to undergo a switch in authority, albeit in the other direction… :-) I personally love this dynamic; the ‘taken down a peg or two’ discipline scenario. I think a lot of its kinky sting comes from the distance between the spankee’s starting point and the point to which they are brought, with the inevitable humiliation that they feel at being so diminished. “You can’t do this to me! Ooh! Oww!”

Yummy!

Present, Sir

Apologies for the radio silence: I've been working like a well-spanked schoolgirl on my new stories. I'm nearly finished, so I thought I'd come up for air and share a few thoughts.

It's really interesting and fun writing a number of pieces with a common theme, both from a writerly point of view and, given the theme in question, as an enthusiast of kink. It's allowed me to thoroughly immerse myself in the (kinky) school milieu, and all the lovely connotations and mental images that come with it (hockey sticks, chalky blackboards, pigtails, pleated skirts, white socks and knickers... I'm sure you have your own favourites!)

Within that thematic space the most enjoyable thing has been getting into the minds of my characters. My writing is largely character-driven – i.e. the inner lives of the characters are generally the core of the piece – and so I have to step into the characters' shoes as part of the process, in order to make for resonance in motivation and reaction. It's great fun, and similar to real-life roleplay: the thrill of putting oneself in the place of a schoolgirl, caught misbehaving and fearfully anticipating her punishment... it's almost like going back to school myself!

As I mentioned above, the stories are nearly ready for submission. All that remains is to edit and tweak and to try to make them as good as they can be. They share the theme of 'back to school' but they're quite individual, and I hope that as a collection they have something for everyone.

Needless to say, punished bottoms feature prominently in them all.

P.S. Isn't the photo above this post lovely? I scanned it from an old spanking magazine and cropped it to focus closely on the girl's feet under the desk. The black and white graininess and scuffed, heavy wooden chair really help evoke a repressive, old-fashioned school environment. Lovely legs and socks, too. The only thing wrong with it is the footwear the 'schoolgirl' is wearing. Strappy heels? Tut tut!

Bak 2 skool

My publisher has just told me that their next short story collection is to be a school-themed one, rather than a general collection of spanking tales. So it's onto the back burner with a few stories intended for Spank! 2 and on with my school hat (as it were).

Oh well, it gives me an excuse to wear my uniform more often. It helps me to get in the mood, you see...

...not that my uniform resembles the rather stylised number modelled by the young lady above. Mine is a collection of all-too authentic items, bought in person from various school uniform emporia, with my better half in the role of the no-nonsense parent and me in that of the reluctant and uncooperative brat. Being made to try things on to check that they fit (and being ordered to come out from the privacy of the changing room whilst wearing them) is greatly blush-inducing, if you've never experienced it. It's also a massive turn-on, of course :-)

Trimming

I'm in edit mode. One of my short stories isn't so short, and I need to cut it down to size. I always find this a slightly strange, though enjoyable, writing task: deconstructing your own work; unwriting what you have previously written. I'm not sure if there is a direct analogy outside writing. It's like removing bricks from a house, or tiers from a cake.

I'll do my best to keep the number of spanks the same.

Brat attack

I'm in something of a bratty mood today. Well, okay, a very bratty mood.

I feel like putting my hair in pigtails, dressing in a short skirt, long socks and a tight top, and really acting up just to get into trouble. I can't explain it – it's just a really powerful impulse. I'm sure mighty brains (and sociologists) have spent years investigating just what it is that turns grown women into brats. Me, I'm just going to enjoy it... and find out how much bratting I can get away with before my better half takes me firmly in hand!

Smack!

Onomatopoeia. A fancy word with an easy enough meaning. Put simply, it describes words that resemble sounds. Or, more properly, words formed by the imitation of sounds associated with their referents. Bang! Crash! Plop! Fizz!

Onomatopoeic words in a spanking story might include 'smack' or 'slap' or 'swish', for example.

My question to you, dear reader, is this: do you like onomatopoeia in your spanking fiction? Do you like smack! to pop* up now and again? Do you think (like me) that it adds a certain immediacy to representations of spankings; that it provides a nice contrast to more descriptive passages? Or do you dislike it?

I'm sure you know that I use it quite a bit in my stories. I try not to overuse it, but the same could be said for any literary technique. It's (as far as I see it) a matter of achieving a satisfying balance. Do I succeed?

I'd be interested to hear from you.

*There's another one. Pop!

Now pay attention, girls

More fun with the schoolgirls of St Abelard’s as the second in the series is now out on Kindle. I have read it (thanks Becky) and can confirm that it features schoolroom pranks, catfights, gym knickers, strict teachers and lots of spanking.

What more could anyone ask for?

Thanks! Danke vielmals! Bedankt!

I just wanted to pen a little thank you to all the kind souls who read this little blog. I appreciate every single one of you dropping by, and I hope that your days are brightened, even if just a little, by reading my scribbles. Naughtiness, horniness and kink are wonderful things, and if I can evoke or enhance any or all of these in just one person then I've done something worthwhile.

I'd also like to offer an apology for my posts being so few and far between. Offline life has been demanding of late, but most people's are and I will endeavour to write more frequently.

As a little gift to the imagination (and as I seemingly can't do anything without sneaking a little bit of kink into it), I would like you to picture the scene that will take place tonight. I will sit at my desk, in my blue summer school dress, white cotton panties round my ankles, my bottom quite naked against the cold, hard plastic of my 'school' chair. And I will write the following, one hundred times:

'I will post on my naughty little blog more often'.

xxx

Sunday evening spanking

Readers may like to know that I was given an overdue and very thorough spanking on Sunday evening. Led to the bedroom by my ear, I was given a good talking-to (with lots of yummy finger wagging) and made to confess my various misdeeds from the past fortnight. Needless to say, I felt very small and foolish, squirming on the spot, my jeans round my ankles.

The dreadful litany of crimes duly listed, BH leaned in close and said, in his best authoritative tone, “There’s only one thing to do with naughty little girls like you, isn’t there?”

Head bowed, I whimpered a sorry little “Yes, Sir,” in response.

Without saying another word, BH sat upon the bed and I lay across his lap. He gave me a long warm-up hand spanking, taking my knickers down midway through. (I love that bit!) As my defenceless cheeks were smacked an ever deeper shade of pink, I was told off for kicking my legs (yum), told off again for answering back (mmm) and told that I was grounded for a week (ohhh!)

I already knew that I was in for a good deal more, but I made it a certainty by responding to a scolding remark with a very bratty raspberry. The naughty grin was quickly wiped off my face with the dreaded words, “That does it. It’s the wooden spoon for you, young lady!”

I squirmed and pleaded and bucked and wailed, but I was held firm and the spoon was applied to my bottom just as I deserved it: hard, fast and at great length. My poor cheeks were burning long before the end, and I was a very, very sorry little girl.

My bottom is still a little sore as I type this today. I had better make sure I’m on my best behaviour for a while, hadn’t I?

Image copyright punishedbrats.com.

Late again, Hasler - see me after class

Hello, my little naughties! Sorry for the long break in posting; I haven't forgotten about you (or your naughty little bottoms).

You'll be glad to hear that work continues on the follow-up to Spank! – two stories are completely finished and three more are in progress. Becky and I thought that five short stories made for a nice little book, so Spank! 2 will follow the same template.

As a sorry for the long wait and a thank you for reading my little blog, here are a couple of extracts from one of my forthcoming stories (a first for me, a school-based story):

Miss Miller took up a wooden ruler from her desk and gripped it tightly in her podgy little hand. “Twelve on the hand, young lady. If you take your hand away, we will start over. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss,” replied Pamela.

Though she knew to expect the blow, and had been warned not to move her hand, when the ruler landed across her palm with a stinging WHACK! she couldn’t help but yank her hand back to soothe it.

“PUT THAT HAND BACK AT ONCE!” cried the outraged schoolmistress.

Timidly, Pamela held her hand out again. She swiftly received a second stroke across the same latitude as the first; this one stung even more, making her want to not only retrieve her hand but to bolt for the door, away from this place. But she fought the urge, and bit her lip stoically.

“Now, don’t move your hand again, girl!” warned Miss Miller.

“Yes, Miss, sorry, Miss!” Pamela sheepishly answered.

THWACK! went the ruler on Pamela’s soft palm once more. This stroke was laid across the bottom of her fingers, too, stinging them awfully.

Ten more times Pamela’s trembling hand felt the sting of the ruler. By the end, tears had welled in her eyes. When she was sent back to her seat, she rubbed her burning palm sorrowfully.

“Now, I don’t want any more nonsense from you, Miss Burrows,” warned Miss Miller. “I have better things to do than punish silly little girls like you!”

* * * * *

Pamela scarcely had time to think before a second firm swat stung her left cheek, making the tender flesh of her buttock ripple. A third swiftly followed to her right, then a fourth to her left. She bucked and yelped as her defenceless, bouncing curves were fairly tanned with a furious succession of hard swats.

WHACK! “Ooh!”
WHACK! “Oww!”
WHACK! “Oww! Ohh, Miss!”

The punishment rules stipulated that a girl should receive at least sixty on the bare for forgetting her homework, and Miss Preston took the ‘at least’ part of this guideline very literally in poor Pamela’s case. She walloped the howling child seventy-five times in total, with the final dozen counted out loud by the miserable offender.

When the last swat had been delivered, Miss Preston immediately ordered Pamela to stand up. Pamela did so quickly, despite her discomfort. Miss Preston pulled the tearful schoolgirl’s knickers back up and smoothed her skirt back down.

“I hope that this has taught you a lesson, Charlotte,” she said. “And to reinforce that lesson, you will see me for the next five school evenings for detention. Now, what do you say?”

“Th-thank you, Miss,” Pamela whimpered, wiping away a tear, her little face a picture of hurt.

There's lots more yummy punishment like that in the story. Hope you like the sound of it!

Summer school

Summer is (nearly) here, and my kind 'teacher' is buying me a lovely new school dress to wear to lessons. Just like the one in the picture above, in fact, but in sky blue gingham rather than pink.

This will be my very first summer school dress and I can't wait to wear it as I know it will make me feel very sexy and naughty. I also know that it won't be very long after I put it on before I'm over my teacher's knee, dress raised, knickers down, having my bottom deservedly spanked.

Having another choice of schoolwear outfit (especially one so associated with younger schoolgirls – the delicious humiliation!) is great in itself, but this one in particular will let us play an extra game: if wearing a pretty dress to school is a privilege, then being put back into my boring old uniform can serve as a punishment. I think I'd better behave myself, or I might earn a spanking in my dress then corner time and lines in my dull grey pinafore...

Ooh, I can't wait for it to arrive! I'm even getting a nice new pair of long white socks to go with it. All the better for kicking my legs like a naughty little brat!

Photo copyright onlytease.com.

As if that would ever happen...

Apologies for the lack of posting: I've been a busy little bee. (And some of that busyness has even involved working on stories...)

Anyway, here's a second post about writing. Actually, it's as much about reading as writing, because it centres on a facet of fiction that I personally find important to an enjoyable reading experience. Take a bow, narrative consistency. (Woo!)

I say consistency rather than plausibility, as plausibility in and of itself (in terms of closeness to our own experiences of the world) isn't essential: there's nothing at all wrong with flights of fancy and/or narratives based in fantastical or illogical worlds. What matters is that, once a fictitious world has been created, the rules of that fictitious world aren't arbitrarily broken.

Stories that drive me nuts are ones that set themselves up as 'realistic' (in terms of setting, characters, dialogue) only to abruptly discard that realism as and when the plot demands. Such sudden jumps stand out like a sore thumb; they grate.

This applies to spanking fiction as much as any other type of fiction as it is essentially a character-based genre. The motivations of the characters are central to the thing as a whole, so actions and reactions have to feel believable for the piece to work overall. If a departure has to be made from the logical or psychological bases previously established in the text, it's vital that the author provides a compelling justification for such departure(s). Or, in other words, that he or she does it well. Without such justification, the story is weakened, the characterisation of the figures involved is weakened, the reader’s belief in the world of the story is jolted and the overall reading experience is made less enjoyable.

I try to ensure that my own spanking stories pass the consistency test. Do I succeed? You tell me...

Schoolgirls and pigtails and spanking, oh my!

Fans of schoolroom discipline take note: the first in Becky Sharpe's new series of stories set in a strict boarding school for girls has just been published for the Kindle.

The Girls of St Abelard's: Caught Red-Handed centres around two pupils caught sneaking into the detention room after hours. Severely punished female bottoms guaranteed!

Writing about writing

I thought it would be nice to post every now and then with a little bit about my writing approach and to outline some of the things I'm interested in (in a literary sense).

First up we have 'self-reflexive' fiction, or metafiction. This is quite an appropriate subject for my first post on writing, actually, as metafiction can be thought of, amongst other things, as 'writing about writing'. In contrast with the 'traditional' fictional text, the metafictional text is self-aware; self-conscious. What I mean by this is that, whereas traditional fiction typically conceals its status as a made object, metafiction makes its status as such explicit. It breaks the illusion, as it were, and reminds the reader that what he or she is reading is just a collection of words composed by a writer sometime, somewhere.

I'm fascinated by the potentiality of this type of writing and the effect(s) that it can create; even when that effect is nothing more profound than a little added 'zing' (though it can often be much more than that, of course). I sprinkled self-reflexive snippets into a couple of my stories in Spank! – just subtle moments, not anything that interrupts the narrative to the extent of, e.g., the narrator's interjection in The French Lieutenant's Woman – to give the stories a touch more texture, and to make the reading experience a little bit different.

What sort of moments do I mean? Well, in 'A New Dimension', spankee James, when told by his newly-dominant wife just what he has in store, thinks to himself:

"Surely this kind of thing only happens in spanking stories?"

This line not only conveys James' excited disbelief at the imminent realisation of a long-cherished fantasy; it also serves as a knowing wink to the reader that the narrative James inhabits is aware of its own status as escapist spanking fiction.

I go a little further in 'The Magic Book', a tale explicitly about the blurring of boundaries between reality and fiction. Georgina, freshly transported into the position of a maid in a BDSM story, reels as the reality of her situation dawns on her:

"One minute I'm reading a spanking story, and the next I'm in the bloody story! This is impossible!"

In so articulating her predicament – from within a spanking story that is itself within a spanking story – she calls attention to the ordinarily backgrounded conventions of realist fiction and the unconsciously-accepted demarcation between reader and fictional text, and (unwittingly) invites the reader of her story to share in the dizzying sense of wonderment she feels at their transgression.

That both Georgina and James are identified as readers of spanking fiction is no accident: this detail creates an immediate and overt commonality between them and the readers of their stories. This bond, I hope, helps strengthen the reader's identification with them and intensifies the vicarious thrill of their spankings.

I should probably point out here that a story doesn't necessarily have to have a metafictional dimension in order to be innovative or enjoyable (something hopefully proven by the other stories in Spank!): at the end of the day it's just another technique to be used. I guess its appeal to me is that it's a kind of bringing-to-the-surface of things that normally remain unsaid; a naughty little bending of the rules. And so, of course, it's fun!

N.B. If anyone finds themselves magically transported into one of the stories in Spank! (and has their bottom vigorously tanned as a result), do write and let me know. Personally, I'd love to find myself in Eleanor DeBauchert's unfortunate position...

Spanks a lot

I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who has bought a copy of Spank!

It makes me glad that people read and enjoy my writing, and I know Becky feels the same. It's great as a writer to know that people are interested in what you are writing. And if we've made just one person's day better via our efforts, then we've done something worthwhile.

So, thank you.

P.S. Readers might like to know that I'm going to get a walloping tonight, from my dear better half and a wooden spoon. One for each copy sold this year. My poor little bottom is going to be very, very sore, thanks to you lot...

... can't wait!

Aren't I a clever girl?

I figured my little blog could do with a brightening touch, so I've just added a banner image to the top of the page. I considered using a picture of a spanked bottom (perhaps even my own), but decided that a fountain pen would make for a more urbane effect. Writer, pen, si?

And I did it all by myself! (With a little help from Blogger, that is).

I will not misbehave in class...

I got my detention last night as promised, and it was painful, humiliating, and thoroughly sexy.

Ready laid out on the bed was the uniform I was to wear, as selected by my 'teacher' (I have quite a range of schoolwear to choose from): a knee-length grey pleated skirt, long grey socks, white blouse, blue and yellow striped tie, maroon blazer (complete with school crest). All genuine schoolwear, as worn by genuine schoolgirls in genuine English schools, and all the more humiliating for it.

On my teacher's command I stripped out of my regular clothes, down to my bra and knickers, and dressed in my uniform.

Once suitably attired, I was given a good five minute telling-off, with all my (invented) scholarly misdeeds reeled off in a deeply disapproving tone. I'm afraid to say I managed to get myself into even more trouble with my sassy attitude during this part...

... so when I was taken over his knee for a hand spanking, the scolding continued in the same strict, belittling tone. I was spanked over my skirt, quite hard, perhaps fifty times. Any smack to my bottom is a good smack, but there are certain areas of my behind that just feel extra wonderful, and they weren't neglected.

My skirt was flipped up and I received many more spanks over my panties, and, at the bottom of my cheeks where my panties don't reach, several to my bare skin. By this point I was squirming and beginning to whimper that I was sorry, but my teacher (love him) was having none of it. After all, I was a bad, bad girl who deserved a good, sore bottom, and I was going to get one.

When the warm-up spanking was over, and I lay helpless across my teacher's knee, my bottom and legs were caressed for a few long, blissful minutes. And a loving hand slipped between my legs, and lightly teased my shamefully wet pussy through the thin cotton of my panties. Ohhhhh....

...and then I was put into the corner. No fair!

I'll spare you the rest of the details, save for mentioning that later on a wooden spoon was applied at length to my bare bottom. And that I was made to take my teacher's throbbing cock in my sweet little mouth. And that I was tied to the bed and taken hard from behind...

Sitting here the next day, my bottom still a little tender, I can say with confidence that I will definitely not be a naughty girl in class in future...

Facebook

Hello, dear reader. Just a note re that awfully popular social networking site, Facebook. I'm sure you've heard of it.

Point is, I am not on it. Nope. Uh-uh.

There is a Penelope Hasler on there, but she is not me, and I am not she.

Just thought I'd make that clear so my namesake doesn't get inundated with saucy messages from spankophiles. (Any that she doesn't already know, that is).

Detention for Miss Hasler

I write about spanking and, for want of a better term, 'kinky' sex, and I also enjoy both in my personal life. My partner and I continually explore new things - new roleplay scenarios, new implements, new positions - which seems perfectly natural to me, as we are always in a process of exploring each other's sexuality and each other as people.

That said, we do have a few favourite scenarios that we tend to return to again and again. One is the classic 'naughty schoolgirl and strict teacher', where the schoolgirl (me), dressed in authentic uniform, is verbally disciplined (I love a good scolding), punished with lines and/or corner time, and given a spanking (the severity depends on just how naughty I've been in our fantasy, and/or just how horny I'm feeling). Suitably chastised, I am then 'forced' into sexual subservience: made to worship my partner's cock; stripped, bound and teased; worked up into a frenzy of longing, then fucked long and hard.

Bliss!

I just thought I'd share this, and let my reader know that I will be playing this game tonight. I just never seem to learn my lesson, so it's detention once again...

P.S. My better half doesn't actually look like Peter Griffin.
P.P.S. Family Guy © Fox Broadcasting Company. I don't particularly want a spanking from their IP lawyers.

How hard is it to get your book reviewed?

Pretty hard, it would seem. My publisher, Neon, has sent out copies of Spank! to a goodly number of specialist (romance/erotica/BDSM) review sites in the months since the book's release. Number of reviews to date? Zero.

Was it something they said? Is it the cartoon cover? Is it because the words "vampire" or "wolf" don't appear in the title?

Whatever the reason, it's a shame, as reviews (good or bad) are helpful to readers.

I therefore make the following plea: if anyone has read the book and wants to write a few lines about it on Amazon, be my guest! There is a single, solitary review there at present – many thanks to that kind person – but more would be great, as that would give people a more rounded picture of my little book and help them decide whether it is worth bothering with or not.

And of course suggestions/criticism can help make the next book better...

A Naughty Little Writer writes

Hello and welcome to my blog! I hope to post the occasional interesting thing here*, and I hope that you will enjoy reading.

As the blog title suggests, I am an author of that naughtiest of genres, spanking fiction. It's a great little genre and lots of fun to write in. And it's hot. Even the words themselves – spanking fiction – give me a guilty little frisson of excitement, so I think I am in the right field.

I had my first work (Spank!, written with the delectable Becky Sharpe) published on the Kindle in 2010 and I have lots of ideas for new stories that I am working on right now. I'll do my best to keep you up to date with any new developments, and I promise not to post about boring things like the variety of coffee I had this morning or my cat's unique and charming proclivities.

All are welcome to comment freely. If you've read any of my stories I'd love your feedback (good or bad), and if you haven't I'd like to hear from you anyway. (That, after all, is the whole beauty of the internet: rather than a one-way broadcast stream, it's a multi-directional communication medium). If you're into reading about spanking, or into spanking itself, then I hope you'll pop in and say hello from time to time.

Okay, that's my first post written – see you soon, and be naughty!

*You never know.