Saturday, 7 June 2014

Spanked by the book

Hi everyone, I hope you’re all well. I’m just popping in to bring an interesting Pennyish post (and a lovely act of kindness) to your attention: the beautiful and brilliant Emily Tilton has written a piece for Celeste Jones’s Spanking Stories Book Club about ‘The Magic Book’, one of my short stories.

If you’re unfamiliar with the story, the magic book it centres around is – naturellement – a spanking collection, and the girl who reads it finds herself transported inside its pages and treated to a jolly good thrashing. (Some folks get all the luck).

Do pop over and read Emily’s perceptive take on my scribbles (and on far more besides). And do please share your own thoughts: Emily and Celeste will be delighted to see you, and I will be fascinated to hear your responses to Emily’s interesting questions. You don’t have to have read the story to contribute!

P.S. I’m sorry to have been so quiet and I’ll try to write again soon. I’m alive and well and I miss you all. Thank you to everyone who has sent messages. Hugs, Penny xx

P.P.S. Here is a cupcake for Emily for being so lovely. An e-cupcake, no calories!

Friday, 28 March 2014

Hush my heart from its waking pain

Hi everyone. I’m sorry to have gone quiet suddenly, and I’m sorrier to say that I will be quiet for some time to come. My personal life is in a very bad place right now and I’m just not up to writing or having fun. My little blog is going to hibernate for a while.

On the upside there’s much, much more to the world of spanking than me so you won’t be short of sexy, kinky entertainment!

I hope that everyone who visits here is doing okay, and I miss you all. Stay safe and be naughty. xxx

Monday, 17 March 2014

The play’s the thing

Or the spanking story, in this case. Here’s an interesting idea for a blog hop: kinky creatives writing about their creative processes. You may already have read some of the luminaries taking part – none more luminous than the lovely lady who invited me, Kathryn R. Blake – and I’m proud to follow in such talented footsteps.

Okay, once more onto the couch (to answer questions)...

1) What am I working on?
Lots of things, which might help explain why it’s hard to get anything finished. Looming largest on my mental landscape is my F/F kink novella, Meeting Venus. Honestly, I will frolic when that thing is ready. Frolic.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?
Tricky question, as there is so much variation within the spanking fiction genre. Plus I don’t have a great deal of finished work to compare stuff to. Plus I like to think of my own style as varied and always evolving. But if I absolutely had to pick one thing... I’d say my writing has a bit of insanity in its DNA; an element of stylistic unpredictability. I hope to show more of my experimental nature as time goes on, free time and confidence allowing.

3) Why do I write what I do?
Because I have always been a spankee. Because I enjoy reading and fantasising about sexy things. Because I want to turn people on and communicate with their kinks.

4) How does my writing process work?
My process is overwhelmingly organic. Chaotic, might be another way of describing it. I don’t really plan anything in detail before starting; I like to keep ideas as ‘pure’ or fresh as possible and let things kind of come to me and evolve of their own accord. It’s like a dialogue between me and the text. But, within that fluid framework, once something is down on paper I work and rework it obsessively.

I flit between sections and entirely different pieces of work all the time: I just work on whatever feels right in that moment. I’m very much a ‘feeling’ writer. Which doesn’t always lead to writing fast. I rationalise my lack of output by telling myself that whatever text does come from the process will have an energy and a freshness to it that more rigidly planned writing might not have. I guess I imagine it as expressionist or maybe ‘action’ painting versus painting in a more traditional mode.

That’s quite an apposite metaphor, actually, given the spanky creative I am passing the torch to next: the super-talented erotic artist RedRump! Be sure to pop over to his blog a week from now for an insight into his naughty method.

On second thoughts, pop over right now and check out his amazing new F/M drawing!

Saturday, 15 March 2014

Penny Does a Runner: Part XI

It was in something of a daze that Penny was led back to the circus tent. Before she knew quite what was happening she stood backstage amongst half a dozen young women dressed in blue leotards just like hers.

“Ah, you must be the stand-in for Josephine!” a brunette girl said to her. “What luck – I had thought we would be one down this evening.”

“Thirty seconds!” a man said.

“B-but... I’m not...” Penny said to nobody in particular, turning on the spot in bewilderment as the girls chatted and fussed distractedly. “I shouldn’t really be...”

Just then the vast red curtains behind her parted and the noise from the ring beyond came flooding in like a cacophony: the roar of the crowd; the deafening music; the amplified baritone of the ringmaster.

“They will dazzle and amaze you!” he cried. “Thrill and astound you! The most fearless females this side of the Amazon, each and every one of them ready to risk DEATH as they fly through the air!”

Penny’s stomach did a death-defying somersault as she was taken by the hands and led by a pair of skipping girls through the curtains and into the ring.

If her senses weren’t quite overwhelmed already, they were when a pair of blinding spotlights were turned onto her and the rest of the acrobat troupe. Blinking in the glare, Penny wondered – not for the first time that day – quite how she had got herself into such a spot.

As her sight returned she realised that the view from the sawdust-covered floor of the ring was quite different to the one she had enjoyed not half an hour earlier from the safety of the stands: all around her was colour and motion, jugglers tossing clubs with dizzying speed and skill; exotically tattooed fire-breathers sending bursts of flame skyward; the ringmaster under a spotlight of his own, resplendent and fantastical. And, all around, up to the roof of the tent itself it seemed, hundreds upon hundreds of faces keenly trained on the acrobats about to perform.

Two girls set off on gymnastic floor routines, extravagantly toppling and somersaulting around the ring, while two more began their ascent to the pair of tiny trapeze platforms high above. Penny watched with as much wonder as any child in the towering circus tent as the pair climbed the narrow ladders with disarming insouciance. In no time at all they had reached the top of them and, without so much as a pause, took hold of a trapeze and leapt.

The audience oohed and ahhed as the girls swung and flew and flipped with breathtaking grace, and gasped in unison when they swapped trapezes mid-air. Far below, unnoticed by all, young Penny Hasler gasped for quite a different reason, as she was shepherded to the foot of a ladder.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Penny gets ready to run again

There are many things I should be spanked for, but the most egregious is leaving my schoolgirl serial Penny Does a Runner hanging at part ten. It’s been six whole months!

I apologise as profusely as a girl strapped to a bench with a sex-crazed DisciplineBot whirring ominously into life behind her would. And I promise to write and post the next part before this week is out!

Before I do so, I think a recap is in order. Penny Hasler*, fifth former at strict boarding school St Spankem’s, is caught in a naughty act and sent to the headmistress’s office for an almighty thrashing. She escapes en route and flees the school grounds, only to realise once free that she is penniless (the irony) and homeless. By happy chance a travelling circus is in town: Penny meets the owner and is hired as an usherette to replace an elephant squashee. Horrified on her first night to see one of her schoolteachers sitting in the audience, she sneaks into a circus performer’s trailer to borrow a disguise... and is immediately mistaken for an acrobat and led back towards the big top.

What will become of poor, silly Penny? Find out in the next instalment!

*no relation.

Sunday, 2 March 2014

Spanked by a machine, or life imitating art

One of the stories in the outrageously popular Spank! 2 centres around something I have long been fascinated by (and had lots of delicious fantasies about): the spanking machine. Needless to say, the haughty and deserving female protagonist in my story finds herself strapped securely onto the machine and beaten mercilessly by it, her dignity stripped from her as completely as her skirt and panties are. It’s all very Kafkaesque, as she owns the company that manufactures the machine... I figured that would make for a fun reversal!

Happily for fans of such things, there seems to be no shortage of erotic artwork featuring spanking machines of all kinds:

Oh, the envy... I think the woman in the ultra-naughty Kami Tora pic wins the Luckiest Spankee prize (and is the one I would most ecstatically swap places with), but it’s really a case of win-win-win with all of them and with spanking machine art in general.

Given their popularity, it has always surprised me that spanking machines don’t seem to feature much in spanking fiction. I suppose a big reason is that the dynamic between a person and a machine is different to that between two (or more) people, and the lack of intimacy and human connection doesn’t lend itself to romance or emotional interplay. And perhaps what works well in picture form doesn’t always work so well in text. Which is a shame, as I think the cold, dispassionate nature of machines is fascinating when transplanted into a sexual and/or disciplinary context, and I would love to explore the area further. Maybe I will...

Anyway. To the ‘life imitating art’ part of this post! While I was writing my story I limited my research to drawings such as the ones above, and of course used my awesome imagination to envisage what a spanking machine might be like; how it would be built and operate. And I gave it what I thought an amusingly descriptive and corporate-sounding name: the Spank-o-Matic 8000. (Confession. I watch shopping channels on TV sometimes, just for fun. The ‘before and after’ bits are always so funny. “Tired of struggling with tangled-up hoses?” LOL).

Imagine my surprise, then, when I happened some time after finishing my story – during the course of an entirely innocent internet meander – upon the real thing! There really is a Spank-O-Matic, lookit!

“The Spank-O-Matic is an automated, powered spanking machine capable of delivering a very wide range of sensations,” says the blurb. (Now I’m picturing this thing on a shopping channel: that would be awesome!)

“So you say the Spank-O-Matic can OW! go from feather-soft to OOH! blisteringly severe, Brad?”

“That’s right, Lacey! It can give even the most troublesome brat just what she needs and more!” (big smile to camera as Lacey’s bottom is paddled relentlessly)

And this ain’t the only spanking machine on the market, neither. From what I can gather there are two principal manufacturers and models: the Spank-O-Matic’s rival is the Robospanker, from the good people at DD Machinery:

Definitely the sort of thing dreams are made of!

I have yet to try a spanking machine, but I have absolutely no doubt that they are great fun and I do someday hope to experience their thrillingly remorseless attentions. And, I have to say, I rather think that should I ever be fortunate enough to own one, I will leave the house a good deal less often. And invent many excuses for what I’m staying in to do. And not answer the phone while I’m doing it.

So, am I alone in my fascination? Do any of you get hot at the thought of being mounted on a bench and left to be spanked while your partner/disciplinarian pops out for a relaxing shopping trip? Do any of you own a spanking machine? Please comment if so! :D

In the meanwhile I’ll leave the last word to poor Ms Sheely from ‘A Day in Court’ (available from Amazon in the bargainly-priced Spank! 2: don’t delay, buy today!), extolling the virtues of the Spank-o-Matic 8000 as it toasts her naughty buns:

“The Spank-o-Matic can of course be used for-- ooh! d-disciplinary purposes, but our market research shows that eighty p-percent of owners purchase it for-- ow! recreation.”

Thursday, 27 February 2014

With love to Bonnie

My online kinky-community activity has been very much reduced so far this year, which has meant I haven’t been able to post as much on my blog as I would like. But far more importantly I haven’t been able to visit other blogs and comment and interact with the lovely people who make up this community. And I’m very sorry to learn that one of the best people I have ever met through this medium – Bonnie of My Bottom Smarts – has hung up her blogging hat.

Bonnie was the first popular blogger to link to me and bring my scribblings to a wider audience, an act of kindness that I will always be grateful to her for. And more fundamentally I will always remember her as a wonderfully warm and giving person: truly the queen of this little community.

Thank you for everything, Bonnie. I hope your bottom smarts today and you have many happy years of love and fun to come. I’ll miss you.

As an aside, it’s my birthday tomorrow: I’ll be 26 whole years old. Might have to start counting backwards if this carries on...

(Older but no wiser! Might translate that into Latin and adopt it as a motto).

Monday, 24 February 2014

A little light relief

Have I fallen off the world? No, not quite, but I am experiencing turbulence in my personal life so spanky stuff has been kinda beyond me lately. Sorry for the lack of fun – I’ve missed you all and I hope you’re doing okay.

A place I like to go when I’m feeling down is the land of silliness and humour, with a leaning toward the sorts of jokes that Little Penny enjoys. So I’d like to share a few puns and make you groan :)

And to do so I shall employ a neat (and geeky) little thing that I used in my Love Spanks post: a ‘peekaboo button’. This reveals text when you click on it, thanks to the magic of Science. I’m sure there are lots of interesting ways to use such a thing, but the one that occurred to me was the telling of (terrible) jokes... click at your own risk!

Oh my... those are some seriously bad jokes. As a reward for enduring them, and if you’re not all clicked out, I’d like to share a very neat picture that a dear friend drew for me.

Little Penny is hooting with laughter right now (or perhaps honking)... please imagine a teadressed poppet rolling about in a most undignified fashion, in imminent danger of wetting herself. And we all know what happens to little girls who do that, don’t we?

If you have any jokes (child-friendly or otherwise) that you’d like to share, please do so in the comments!

Sunday, 16 February 2014

My beautiful princess

Here’s my flash fiction piece from this contest, in case you didn’t get to see it in its original home. It’s not naughty or sexy, but I hope you like it anyway.


The starkness of the sunlight through the window. The coldness of that little white sink.

Day, night. High, low. None of it matters. Spiralling downward; losing myself piece by piece.

How strange those days seem now,
how distant, how empty,
now that you are in my life.

“I’m a dragon and I’m going to eat you all up!” I roar at the foot of your castle. “You better just come down the slide and into my big hungry mouth – there’s no other way out!”

You squeak your royal disdain, the sound so full of life and magic: no silly old dragon is going to eat Princess Becca!

Scurrying to and fro like a mouse, your pretty blonde head popping out of this hole then that, your little face glowing with such glee that my heart wants to burst. Oh! That silly old dragon! Racing round to meet you every time!

Round and round we dash, laughing in the sunshine, happy in our own little world.

And then I’m not a dragon any more, and you come into my arms, and I hold you to myself like the precious gift you are.

My beautiful princess.

Friday, 14 February 2014

The hundred-dime question

Time to announce the winner of my Love Spanks prize!

(I’m not sure how to insert the kind of suspenseful but heavily-scripted pause that you get at things like the Oscars, so I’ll just waffle here for a bit and hope that serves). It rained pretty much all day Wednesday, but it’s been alright since. Still cold, but then it is February. Hm... better pop into the supermarket on the way home and get some rice. Making chilli for dinner! Hope it’s better than last time: that was a bit bland. My cooking’s quite hit and miss like that.

More? Erm... isn’t it strange when your fingers forget how to type? I was transpositioning left, right and centre for a while this morning. Mainly left and right. The really weird thing was swapping whole words round – think I holiday a need!

Enough? Okay. *fiddles with envelope*

And the winner is... OLIVIA STARKE!

Congrats, Olivia – your gift certificate will be with you just as quickly as the internet can carry it. (I’ve learned from last time... flying monkeys really aren’t the best way to get stuff to people. The bloody things can’t read maps, for a start. And Mrs Harper across the street didn’t speak to me for weeks after what happened to her lawn).

Thanks again to everyone who visited, read, and commented – I really appreciate it xx

Remember to pop over to Ana’s blog for the grand prize announcements!

Monday, 10 February 2014

We came, we loved, we spanked

Wow, that was fun :D I hope you enjoyed Love Spanks as much as I did! A big thank you to everyone who commented on my story: I really appreciate you sharing your time and thoughts and will reply to every single one.

Look out for the prize announcements on Friday, here and on the other LS blogs!

Guess what else your glamorous hostess found time to do over the weekend? Only to be whisked over to Emily Tilton’s luxurious abode (by first class post, so A-list) for an exclusive and deeply searching interview! Oh, but that woman can make a canapé.

Want to know what my desert island fantasy is? Pop over to Emily’s blog and see!

P.S. Bring jelly tots.

Friday, 7 February 2014

Love Spanks 2014: You know you need this

Love Spanks 2014 is here! You’ve tasted us, and now you get to sample free stories from top F/F authors. Please visit Governing Ana for the prize list, sign-up sheet, and free books. You can win from a prize pool valued at over $1,000, including a Kindle Fire or Nook HD, just for commenting!

Many authors will also offer a contest on their individual blogs. Your comment on their blogs automatically enters you in both the main contest and the individual contests!

What’s the catch? Absolutely nothing! We love writing for you and want to thank you for your readership. Perhaps someone might get a spanking or two for reading such naughty blogs, but that’s a reward rather than a catch, right?

Like these events? Want to support your friendly F/F authors? Become a Love Spanks Ambassador! In exchange for promoting this event, you will receive one extra prize entry, AND you are still eligible to participate and win prizes! To find out the details, send an email to, with the subject line “Love Spanks Ambassador.”

Like Love Spanks on Facebook!
Tweet #lovespanks on Twitter!
Visit Saturday Spankings for more snippets!


Hi! I am so proud to be part of this wonderful event, and I hope you’re having a great time reading so much F/F fiction :) My contribution is an extract from my WIP spanking romance, Meeting Venus. Emily is a talented artist, but she doubts herself and doesn’t make the most of her ability. Her lover Charlotte introduces her to spanking as an erotic pleasure and as a motivating tool. In this chapter Emily is at a party hosted by Charlotte, having promised (but failed) to enter an art contest.


Charlotte was her usual dazzling self, gliding round the room with effortless grace, lighting the place up and lightening the hearts of everyone she spoke to. But I knew that things would be different once the party was over and she had me to herself.

Sure enough, as soon as the last guest was gone the atmosphere changed, as if a winter chill had swept through the room.

“So,” she said, her voice cool, “suppose you tell me exactly why you skipped that contest? I thought we had discussed that it was a great opportunity. I was under the impression that you were all set.”

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling childish, and resentful for being made to feel that way. I didn’t want to be having this conversation. I wanted to be wrapped in Charlotte’s arms, thrilling at her closeness. I wanted to bathe in her smile, that beautiful starburst that lit my senses. I wanted her to be proud of me. Anything but this. “I’ve been too busy...” I muttered into my chest.

“You’ve had plenty of time and opportunity. Try again.”


A long, defeated sigh.

“It’s too hard. I’m... just not as good as you think I am.”

Charlotte strode towards me. As she approached I fiddled with a wine glass on the little table next to me, running my index finger to and fro on its rim, wishing foolishly that a guest would return and take her attention off me.

“That’s just another excuse, and one I’m getting sick of,” she said, taking my wrist and lifting my hand from the glass. “I’ll tell you what the problem is, Emily. You are lazy. You want reward without the effort. You are a lazy girl, just as surely as a girl who skips her chores around the house, and you use a lack of confidence as a cover.”

Stung by Charlotte’s slight, my eyes flashed up to meet hers. “It’s not like that!” I snapped. “I just... I can’t do it.”

“You can do it, Emily. You just need to discipline yourself to do it. Creative people still have to work hard like anyone else. If you were a writer you would have to draft things. Even Shakespeare’s stuff wouldn’t have come out perfect first time, would it?”

I gave a little shrug. “It might have.”

“No,” she said. “It wouldn’t have. And you shouldn’t expect your art to be perfect first time either. Is that what they taught you at art school? That you didn’t have to try? That inspiration would just hit like a bolt of lightning and move the brush around for you?”

“No...” I answered sullenly, sounding the part of a child for good measure. I had a very strong urge to kick my toe on the floor. Or at least kick off the strap heels I had worn all evening. Get out of that dress, take off my makeup. I didn’t feel like being glamorous. I lowered my gaze and spoke to Charlotte’s chest. “They taught us... that you have to struggle with a piece. That you have to work on it, through good and bad, until it’s resolved.”

Charlotte, I had learned, had a way of saying a great deal with a nod. She gave one of those nods, then strolled over to the sofa.

“I think you had better fetch me the hairbrush and get over my knee.”

My stomach did a swan dive to somewhere near my feet. The hairbrush… I had only been given it once before but that had been plenty enough to make me dread its return. That I didn’t want to fetch it – that everything inside of me demanded I didn’t – seemed, in the glare of Charlotte’s anger, as irrelevant as the temperature on Saturn. And so I brought it to her and clambered mutely into position across her lap. Before I had settled, and without a word, she yanked my dress up round my waist with a disarming roughness. Oh, this was too real and too awful. The feeling I had as a ten-year-old when I put a ball through the kitchen window and was bawled out by my parents as the stupidest girl in the world? I would have rather lived that moment a hundred times over than feel this.

“On the bare from the start this time,” and she slipped her thumbs under the waistband of my knickers and eased them down to my thighs. “This is going to be a very direct and, I imagine, a very unenjoyable reminder that the decisions we make have consequences.”

“Please...” I whined, knowing that it was too late to avert the inevitable but unable to help myself from trying. I didn’t want a spanking. Not one like this. I wanted to climb into bed and bury myself under the covers; to hide from everything and just be left alone.

The back of the hairbrush was smoothed over my bottom cheeks, its coldness like a threat. I closed my eyes in anticipation and clutched a cushion tightly to myself, wishing to the pit of my aching stomach that I had just worked on that stupid painting, entered that stupid contest.

Time, I learned in the first few seconds of the spanking, had dimmed the memory of my last taste of the hairbrush. The reality of the experience – the scorching, all-consuming physicality of it – was brought emphatically back to me as Charlotte pounded the brush against my bottom with a quickness and intensity that spoke of controlled fury. I gasped, my eyes thrown wide open in shock; I yelped, I bucked; and all the resentment and frustration that had built up inside came bursting out in screamed, half-insensible oaths.

“You’ve earned this, Emily,” she coolly scolded, her cut-glass accent impeccable even as she breathed heavy with effort. “And you’re damned well going to be sorry when I’m done giving it to you. You might not care about your career, but I do.”

Somehow Charlotte’s composure made it all worse. I wished she would shout at me, call me a naughty girl, lose her temper. But no matter how angrily she snapped the hairbrush down her voice remained infuriatingly measured, and the litany of chastisements she reeled off made me feel all the more ridiculous as I kicked and bawled like a child.

And then for the longest time there was nothing but the awful, repetitive clap of the hairbrush, the pain that coursed through me, the hot tears that ran down my face. And, most powerfully of all, the most bitter, heartfelt regret. Charlotte, I knew deep down, was right to be punishing me. She believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. She wanted me to become what I was capable of becoming. And now she was giving of herself, just as she always did: she was giving me something I needed, as an act of love.

Afterward, when I lay cradled in her arms, I cried still, but these tears were different to the violent ones that came during the spanking. I wanted to speak, to express how I felt, but I didn’t trust myself to use the right words. As if she could read my mind, Charlotte stroked my hair and whispered sweet little things about her beautiful girl.


Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it, and I’d love to hear what you think. If you’d like to answer a question, I have one: would you go to get the hairbrush, like Emily did, even though you really didn’t want a spanking?

Thursday, 6 February 2014

Penny goes flashing

Here’s a cool thing! I’m taking part in a ‘flash fiction’ competition today as part of the build-up to the super-sexy Love Spanks (ONE day to go! Squeee!) :D

Should be interesting, as there’s a time limit and my usual pace of writing is akin to a sleepy dormouse turning over in his teeny mouse bed. Nervous already and it hasn’t even started yet!

The contest is hosted by Siobhan Muir: do drop by and see how I get on (and by all means join in yourself if you fancy the challenge) :)

P.S. Here’s another cool thing, just to make your day extra cool. Tiny knitted animals! (via Look at this Little Thing).

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

Miss Hasler's English Class: 7

Settle down everyone! Timmy, that includes you. Back at your own desk now, there’s a good boy. You’ll have plenty of time to play doctors with Sophie later.

Today’s lesson, you’ll all be happy to hear, is another on poetry. Do you remember our last lesson? When we learned that lines in poems are made up of feet, and that the rhythm in a poem is called meter? Good. I do like it when you remember things.

Today we are going to look at a particular type of poem: a type called a limerick.

Limericks are very short. Yes, Natasha? Yes, dear, short like your skirt. Does anyone know how many lines a limerick contains? No, not ninety-three. Stop giggling back there, Ana! It’s quite a small number. You can count it on one hand.

That’s right, Andrea – the answer is five! Good girl. ANA! SIT STILL! I won’t tell you again.

Limericks have five lines, and they use rhyme at the end of each line. The rhyme scheme goes:


This means that lines one, two and five rhyme with each other, and lines three and four rhyme with each other.

So we know how many lines we have and the way they rhyme. But what about the length of the lines? How many syllables do they contain?

A traditional limerick has lines of nine and six syllables, with the pattern matching that of the rhyme scheme: nine, nine, six, six, nine. But we know that there is more to poetic meter than the number of syllables, don’t we? The rhythm of the lines – the places where the emphasis, or stress, is placed – is just as important.

Do you remember the funny word we learned in the last class, to describe a metrical foot that went da-dum? That type of foot is called an iamb. There are lots of other funny words for other types of feet, and limericks often use one called an anapest. Emily, stop smirking. The anapest has three syllables rather than two, and goes da-da-dum.

If we apply this to our traditional limerick, that has lines of nine and six syllables, we get:

da-da-dum da-da-dum da-da-dum
da-da-dum da-da-dum da-da-dum
da-da-dum da-da-dum
da-da-dum da-da-dum
da-da-dum da-da-dum da-da-dum

That’s a lot of da-da-dums, isn’t it! This pattern tells us exactly how a traditional limerick is structured, and gives us a basis for writing our own.

Now. I’ve used the word ‘traditional’ several times today, and that is because there is more than one way to write a limerick. I personally prefer to write them with shorter lines – containing eight and five syllables – and to use a meter that goes:

da-dum-da da-dum-da da-dum
da-dum-da da-dum

I call these poems Pennylicks, because my name is Penny, and because it’s a funny word to use. Yes, Daniel... even teachers have first names.

These lines use another type of foot, one with a very strange name: the amphibrach. Sounds like a dinosaur, doesn’t it? This foot goes da-dum-da. And we see that, long or short, the lines all end with an iamb: da-dum.

Emma, you look confused. It’s alright, dear. The names of feet don’t really matter, and lines can be broken down in a variety of ways. Think of a line in terms of a cake: the cake might be twelve inches across but you can cut it into however many slices you like. Look at the patterns on the board again and you’ll see what I did to make a limerick a Pennylick. I simply snipped the opening syllable off each line: the rest of the line is identical.

Shall we write a Pennylick? Let’s try.

There once was a beautiful girl
Who ran everywhere in a whirl.
She dashed home for tea
Bounded in with “yippee!”
And fell off her chair with a twirl.

What a silly girl! I’m glad I don’t have any silly girls in my class.

Do you see and hear how the rhythm works? It’s easiest to write lines that have short words, but if you’re careful and listen to the word in your head you can use longer words like ‘beautiful’. Just think about where the stress is placed in the word and you’ll put it into your line at the right place.

One more thing. Look at line four. Do you notice anything different about it? That’s right: it has six syllables instead of five. I added a syllable at the start of the line to demonstrate that it’s all right to vary things in poetry. I know that I’ve described the structure of limericks in quite a rigid way, but that is just to give you a general starting point. You are free to experiment and bend the rules. Unlike, of course, in school.

Now children, would you like to try writing a limerick (or a Pennylick)?

Saturday, 1 February 2014

The wrong day to throw a chopstick

It’s the Lunar New Year and my good friend Anastasia Vitsky has been celebrating with a wonderful series of posts:

Day 1 has a fascinating piece on the celebrations in the Chinese Malaysian community...

Day 2 has the characters from Ana’s awesome story Mira’s Miracle celebrating in their own kinky little way...

And I am honoured to say that Day 3’s post – a sweet and perfectly petite tale of a naughty girl bratting her dear and beautiful friend one time too many – stars the ever-mischievous Pao and... Miss Penelope Hasler! Squeak! Excitement! :D

Go and read and see just how naughty little Pao earns herself a spanking! (Clue: it involves a chopstick).

Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Taste me, love me, taste me again

As part of the build-up to the forthcoming (and AWESOME) Love Spanks 2014, Ana Vitsky is showcasing the participating authors in a series of interviews. And today the showcased author is meee! :D

Please drop by and ask me a question – Ana has snacks and comfy sofas :)

(I didn’t realise at the time just how succinct my answers to Ana’s probing questions were... I know brevity is meant to be the soul of wit, but wow! All the more reason to pop over to Ana’s and quiz the dazzling enigma that is la Hasler. I’m particularly receptive to questions about jelly tots).

P.S. no laughing at my so-simple-it’s-hardly-a-recipe recipe. Or I’ll scweam an scweam and make a frightful scene. And Ana will give me a jolly good spanking and never invite me to stay again.

Monday, 27 January 2014

It’s a schoolgirl’s life

Hello! Lingerie model and part-time scribbler Pennybird here. (I have a lot of nicknames, don’t I? This latest one is courtesy of the lovely Emily Tilton, a charming and exquisitely talented young lady. Read her books – they’re hot).

Anyway. I know I say this a lot, but sorry for the lack of blog activity of late: I’m working like a well-spanked schoolgirl behind the scenes to try and make my Love Spanks contribution as good as it can be. It’s my first time in such an event and I’m anxious to repay the organisers’ faith in me.

Did I say like a well-spanked schoolgirl? Let’s run with that for a minute.


Poor Penny. It was all Stacey’s fault, not hers, just like she had tried to explain... Stacey was the one who had put her up to it; she was just the one caught with the spraycan in her hand. That it was red paint only made things worse. And stupid Imogen! Some lookout she turned out to be!

And so poor Penny, surprised mid-prank and unexpectedly friendless, had been marched to the headmistress’s office, red-handed and red-faced... and – subsequent to a very severe telling-off from that lady, a prim tirade including threats of public thrashings and letters home to her parents – had her tight, pristinely white school knickers taken down to her knees and her bottom paddled until it was the reddest Penny part of all. If any of the wretched girl’s so-called friends had been listening at the door their hearts would surely have broken at the pained wails coming from inside. Or perhaps each would simply have been thankful that it wasn’t their own bottom on the receiving end.

And now the disgraced Miss Hasler sits on that sore little bottom, gulping back tears as she writes, and writes, and writes, all alone in that cold, drab classroom...

...and under that wooden school desk, unseen by all, she rubs her thighs together, feeling a wicked, filthy little tingle between her naughty little legs.

Saturday, 25 January 2014

Her delicacy, her softness, her nobility

One of the nicest things about being a spanking fiction scribbler and blogger is that I get to count so many creative and downright nice people as friends.

They don’t come much more creative or nice than the lady I have as a guest today: the one and only Renee Rose! And it’s my real pleasure to showcase Renee’s hot new story, a beautifully-written historical romance with spankings galore... Humbled.

Over to Renee :)

Hi Penelope!

Thank you so much for having me on your blog today to pimp my new spanking romance, Humbled. It is about a blacksmith who rescues and tames a lovely young aristocrat during the French Revolution. They travel to New Orleans, where they negotiate the idea of a long-term future together. Here’s one such discussion...

He kissed her again, then tipped her head to the side to speak low in her ear. “I should punish you for coming to see me when I forbade it.”
She promptly stomped on his foot.
“Ow!” he cried, releasing her. “You will require taming, will you not?”
She stepped back, her hands at her hips, color high on her cheeks.
“I cannot believe you wish to be spanked here, in the middle of my workshop, with Madame Montpelier’s carriage driver sitting out front.”
She looked uncertain, still backing away.
He could not help but smile, the thought of a lifetime of battling wills with Corinne too great a joy to play stern. “Do you, Corinne?”
“Of course I do not!”
“Then apologize and I shall forgive it this time.” He walked forward, slowly, giving her time to think.
She held her ground, though her chest heaved with breath. Taking hold of her shoulders, he walked her backward, then turned her around and placed her palms on his workbench.
“No,” she said.
“I require your obedience, Corinne,” he said, dragging up her skirts. “Is this not how we began?”
“If you have a switch, I shall stomp on your foot again,” she said, though her demeanor lacked confidence.
He ran his hand over her bared bottom. “I shall think of many ways to punish you, Corinne. We will explore them all. And sometimes you will find yourself over my knee for no reason other than that I want you there, and you must obey.”
Corinne looked over her shoulder and he saw heat in her eyes. He gave her bottom a pat. “Apologize, dearest.”
“I am sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what?”
“Stomping on your foot.”
“Good girl,” he said, smoothing her skirts back down. “Now go, before you become too much of a temptation and I take you right here on the workbench.”

Sentenced to die at age eleven for stealing a pig, Jean-Claude receives an unexpected reprieve when a young aristocrat girl takes the blame instead. When the mobs of the French Revolution fall upon her château years later, Jean-Claude knows he must save her and repay his debt, but as they begin their long flight to safety he makes it clear he is not her servant and he will deal firmly with any disobedience. Though he initially intends to send her off by ship, the beautiful, feisty Corinne inspires a fierce protectiveness in Jean-Claude that makes it hard to say goodbye.

Corinne is alternately infuriated and attracted to the handsome peasant who has no qualms about turning her over his knee and spanking her bare bottom when she steps out of line. When he ends up joining her on a ship to New Orleans, their futures become inextricably intertwined, but can a common-born blacksmith and the daughter of a lord find enough common ground to make a permanent match?

Buy now on Amazon Amazon UK Barnes & Noble

Renee Rose is a modern dance teacher, Feldenkrais Practitioner(R), energy worker and kinkster. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around her favorite kink: spanking.

Follow her on: Blog, Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, Pinterest, Instagram, Google Plus

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Here come the girls

I mentioned a very important and exciting thing in my last post-ette. And I can’t keep it in any longer! I am honoured (and more than a little thrilled) to be invited to take part in...

A unique collaboration of writers over a sizzling Valentines weekend, Love Spanks 2014 is set to be a SPANKING hot festival of F/F talent. Here’s Ana with the science:


When two grown-ups love each other, someone might get a spanking!

How would you like a brand-new Kindle Fire or Nook HD or another prize from a pool valued at over $1,000?

How about free stories from award-winning authors?

This Valentine’s Day, you can participate in a short story extravaganza! F/F authors will showcase romance, paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy and spanking fiction for your enjoyment. Chat with your favorite authors, meet new-to-you authors, find great new books, and meet new friends! Even better, participation could earn you a GRAND PRIZE!

• Kindle Fire or Nook HD (winner’s choice)! (donated by Blushing Books)

• Book cover plus author promotional package for one F/F book
(donated by Fantasia Frog Designs)
• Custom social media package for a F/F author (donated by The Cover Artisan)
• Pre-publication consultation of a F/F manuscript up to 15K
(donated by Wizards in Publishing)

• Beginning Domestic Discipline Boot Camp package: 2 books and a 6-month online couple membership (donated by Learning Domestic Discipline)
• Three-month membership to Discipline and Desire

• $50 gift certificate to Amazon (donated by Beachwalk Press)
• $25 gift certificate to Evernight Publishing (donated by the same)
• $10 gift certificate to Amazon (donated by Read the Rainbow)
• $10 gift certificate to All Romance Ebooks (donated by the same)
• Custom-made wooden paddle* (donated by Blondie’s Place)
• Author spotlight feature (donated by VC Erotica)
• Author feature (donated by Fallen Over Book Reviews)
• Author spotlight feature (donated by Erzabet’s Enchantments)

*Available to US and Canada participants only

• Book Bundles from: Bold Strokes Books, Coming Together, Decadent Publishing, JMS Books, Library of Spanking Fiction, Loose Id, Phaze Books, Ylva Publishing

• Free book for all Love Spankers! Vampire’s Bard by Kate Richards

Plus, the first 50 Love Spankers will receive a copy of The Bodyguard by Saranna DeWylde!

Many authors also will offer a contest on their individual blogs. Your comment on their blogs automatically enters you in both the main contest and the individual contests!

What’s the catch? Absolutely nothing! We love writing for you and want to thank you for your readership. Perhaps someone might get a spanking or two, but that’s a reward rather than a catch, right? ;)

Here are the rules:
1. Visit each blog between Friday, February 7 and Sunday, February 9 to read the posted stories and excerpts.
2. Leave a comment answering the story question on each blog. You will receive one entry per blog for the grand prize drawing. You will also be automatically entered in that author’s individual contest, if she has one.
3. If you have visited all of the blogs, visit Ana’s blog to sign up for FIVE bonus entries to the grand prize.
Deadline is midnight EST (UTC -5) on February 9!!
4. If you successfully completed a previous challenge (Spank or Treat 2013, Spankee Doodle 2013, Love Spanks 2013, or Spank or Treat 2012), you may add "VIP" to your comments. You will earn THREE bonus entries toward the grand prize. (Yes, we will be doing this again. Yes, if you successfully complete the Love Spanks 2014 challenge you can become a VIP for our next activity!)
5. If you are a F/F author or thinking of becoming one, please add “FF” to your comments. That way, your name will be entered in the special F/F author prize drawings.
6. Visit any of the participating blogs on Friday, February 14 to find out the lucky winners. Will it be you?

Like these events? Want to support your friendly F/F authors? Become a Love Spanks 2014 Ambassador! In exchange for promoting this event, you will receive one extra prize entry, AND you are still eligible to participate and win prizes!

For details contact Head Ambassador Tara Finnegan at tarafinneganromance at gmail dot com, with the subject line “Love Spanks Ambassador.”

For more information and updates on Love Spanks 2014, visit:
Like us on Facebook!
Twitter hashtag: #lovespanks

Reality bites

That’ll teach me to be all high falutin’ about fantasy and reality… the reality side of things bit me firmly on the ass on Friday evening when my faithful old computer went phut once and for all. Major bummer as weekends are the best time for scribbling and I have a very important and exciting thing coming up.

But hurrah! My shiny new computer (let’s call it Snowball II) is now all set up and ready to rock. Time to get scribbling :D

Friday, 17 January 2014

Round Table Discussion: Fantasy vs reality

One of the most fascinating aspects of TTWD – and one that has been on my to-write-about list forever – is that of fantasy versus reality. And now it’s the subject of a round table discussion!

Of course, the nature of the things we term ‘reality’ and ‘fantasy’ and the relationship between them is an enormous question, one central to the human condition and one that has exercised minds since before TFD was born. I will spare you my amateur thinks about such matters (picture a stoned girl stargazing with her friends) and focus on the issue in as much of a purely kinky context as I can. Which is just as complex, layered and rewarding a thing to think about. Plus it’s hotter :D

As a reader and a writer I slip between realities each and every day. A lot of my blog material is explicitly reality-bending by design, whether it’s a letter to Santa from Little Penny or a note about my stay at an institute for errant girls (complete with a photograph of my rear during a uniform inspection). But you don’t need to write a blog to blur the boundary between reality and fantasy: each of us do it, each time we curl up with a book or read a story online. We do it when we watch a film (or a spanking video); we do it when we look at a photo or a piece of artwork. When we engage with these things we are, in a variety of ways, escaping our lived reality and entering a world of imagination.

In the case of erotica (and our favourite sub-genre, spanking erotica), this space is one in which all kinds of emotions and sexual sensations are evoked and heightened. The people and the events portrayed in, for example, a non-consensual spanking story might be fictitious but the sensations the story arouses in the reader are quite real. It is a measure of the writer’s skill (and the reader’s tastes and imagination) just how affecting these sensations are. Speaking personally, I find I react to ‘institution’ stories in a profoundly visceral way: my heart literally thumps in my chest as I read of women stripped of their liberty and dignity and subjected to merciless punishments in a potentially endless incarceration. As I read about these poor women’s ordeals I identify with them, I empathise; in a sense I become them, and the fictional world they inhabit becomes (for a time at least) my world, even though I am safely tucked up in bed at home. And it doesn’t seem to matter if the things I read are unlikely or downright fantastical: the suspension of disbelief involved in the reading process – allowing myself to think and feel ‘what if?’ – allows the reality of the textual world to seep into my own life. And to arouse and terrify me in equal measure.

But then this is the power of fantasy; the power of the imagination.

The blurring of fantasy and reality also takes place in other, more physical contexts, something that persons of kink understand better than most. I wrote about the topic of kinksexual roleplay in an earlier round table post and a great deal of those issues are relevant here. Perhaps the most important of these – and one that explicitly links the practice of roleplay with e.g. the act of reading – is the suspension of disbelief. To take an example from my own life, when my partner and I play ‘school’ the action most often takes place in our bedroom. I am fully aware that, even in the most unconventional of educational establishments, a lesson or detention is unlikely to be conducted in such a space. And, verisimilitude of the location aside, however wholeheartedly my partner and I might enter the roles of teacher and schoolgirl, I know that in reality we are simply two adults playing. In other words I always have an awareness of the fictionality of what we do, though that awareness is itself part of its erotic power, part of the fun.

Having said that, it’s tempting, I think, to wish sometimes that the play of fantasy/reality could be 100% reality. The things we fantasise about are things we enjoy, after all, and it’s only natural to want those experiences to be more authentic and enveloping. Whether they would be quite as satisfying as we had hoped – whether we would actually enjoy them when they became our reality, displacing the existing one – is another matter.

Quite aside from the desirability of making the imaginary real, fantasy is much more achievable than reality. One of my most cherished desires is to be a permanent pupil at a strict school, with spankings and canings an ordinary part of everyday life. My imagination allows me to transport myself to such a place, that is just as I wish it to be, in an instant. I can explore it and write about it (and in so doing give my fantasy an existence in the world and share it with others). Yet making my dream-school a physical, lived reality for myself would involve so much that it is to all intents and purposes impossible. Even if I sold a million books and was free to become a full-time lady of leisure, how could I enrol at such a school, as no such place exists? And even if it did, I myself do not correspond with the Schoolgirl Penny of my imagination. I am twenty-five and five sixths, not fourteen; I can’t unexperience my life and adult experiences. It’s the exact same issue that occurs when I play school in my bedroom, and transplanting the action to a St Trinians-esque environment wouldn’t change that.

All of these factors point to something we all recognise: that the exploration of fantasies is inevitably a negotiation; a compromise. But then this goes to the heart of the issue: because what we do when we roleplay is not reality, it is by definition something different, something other, a unique experience that has elements of fantasy and reality but is not fully one or the other. And that unique experience has a value, and a beauty, all of its own.

Okay, those are (some of) my thoughts! I hope they made some sense :) and I would love to hear yours. You can of course respond in any way you feel, but here are some potential questions for inspiration: do you find that you identify with the protagonist of a spanking story, and feel a naughty tingle when s/he is punished? Do you wish that your fantasies could be reality? Do you have a cool word for the fantasy/reality experience? (Personally, I think ‘honkifying’ would be a good one).

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Penny watch

Where’s that damn Hasler woman?

Is she... melting at the Australian Open, like poor Maria (and poor Jelena Jankovic, who burned her bottom on a red-hot seat)?

An unrelated pic of Miss Jankovic from 2008: just thought you might like it.

Is she... living it up in the world’s hottest nightspots, having gone multi-platinum with her literary tours de force?

No. No, no. She’s incarcerated staying in the Whipwell Institute for Wayward Young Females, where she is being treated to a daily routine of spankings, cold showers, spankings, manual labour, spankings, maid training, and spankings. And strict schooling.

So the week hasn’t been a total loss.

Here is a photograph from the wicked Miss Hasler’s stay, taken and recorded as part of a uniform inspection. She of course had her naughty cheeks slapped good and hard beforehand. And during. And afterward.

What humiliation! What indignity! What do you think should happen to a girl with such a shamefully creased skirt? ;)

Wednesday, 8 January 2014

Maria watch

Good news for every tennis fan (with taste)! Maria Sharapova is fully recovered from her shoulder injury and is gracing the court once again. Here she is in action in a warm-up tournament for the Australian Open:


Do pictures like this make anyone else envious of tennis balls, or is that just me? Such grace and power; such intensity... oh, to be on the receiving end of Maria’s shrieking displeasure; to be a misbehaving maid, walloped pitilessly and sent on her tearful, chastised way. The stuff (very hot) dreams are made of.

On an entirely related note, I was lucky enough to be sent not one but two stories by kind readers as Christmas gifts, both of which star Maria and myself! My heartfelt thanks to you both. Please know that your tales touched me in a very special place.

Just to show that she has a softer side – the side, perhaps, that a well-punished maidservant might be treated to later on in her mistress’s bedchamber – here’s Maria cuddling a puppy.

Now I’m envious of a tennis ball and a puppy. Wail!

Sunday, 5 January 2014

Winter winner

Thank you to everyone who entered my Winter Spanks contest; it was great fun reading all your comments!

Okay. Prize announcement time. Drumroll please... the lucky winner of $20 of books from the good people at Blushing is...

Ed Caddydlr!

Ed’s comment in response to my question, “Have you ever been spanked outdoors?” was “Recently, where someone could have driven up and seen us. I got very hard.”

Naughty! :D

Well done, Ed – I hope you enjoy your books and that they give you lots of fun ideas for naughty things to do. Though by the sound of it, you don’t need any tips.

More excitement! The Winter Spanks grand prize winners have been announced!

Thursday, 2 January 2014

Spankings are snow fun

Happy new year! I hope you all had a lovely Christmas filled with love, fun and kinkiness.

What better way to welcome 2014 than with a fun and naughty blog hop? Those clever chicks at Spanking Romance Reviews and Saturday Spankings have come up with an event guaranteed to warm you in all the right places: Winter Spanks!

There are dozens of blogs taking part and prizes galore to be won, and my little blog is one of them :)

And so to my contribution. A story starring a naughty girl called Penny (plus ça change)... thank you to the lovely Emily Tilton for helping me with it!


It had been a spur of the moment thing; a surprise weekend trip to a place he hoped his overworked girlfriend would find beautiful and relaxing: Loch Lomond.

The place was indeed beautiful, in a wild, wintry way: the clear blue water of the loch was a mirror image of the clear blue sky; snow lay on the ground, all around them and over the rugged hills that stretched into the distance; the air was bright, cold and crisp. A little too cold for Penny’s liking, truth be told. She was very glad she had worn her thick leggings, but still she wondered how long it would be before they were back indoors, snug and warm. She hugged her cuddly toy – a small, pink creature called Mr Pink – to herself as she walked with her boyfriend along the edge of the loch.

As it often seemed to when walking, Penny’s mind began to wander. After a quick dalliance with the idea of being a swan on the water, it wandered to a place far from the starkly beautiful scenery that surrounded her and to an impressionistic, visceral place of feeling. Of sexuality.

She didn’t know quite why, and she didn’t quite understand the feelings the idea gave her, but she had always wanted to be spanked. She always felt a strange thrill when she saw someone being spanked in a film, or on TV, and she imagined herself in the person’s place. She loved that BH was the man he was – funny, considerate, kind – but she wanted him, just sometimes, to be commanding... to be firm with her... to be mean... to manhandle her; to overpower her; to slap her bottom and call her a bad girl.

Lost in her thoughts, Penny had hardly noticed that she and BH had left the footpath along the edge of the water and entered a kind of fortress. She was brought back to the moment when BH pointed at a huge black cannon and excitedly cried “Wow, look at these!”

There were six identical cannons all lined up, facing the water. Penny raced up to the nearest and smiled for a photo, then sat Mr Pink on top of it for another. She took a few photos of BH posing beside it, one with her toy in shot as if it was Godzilla, and was suddenly struck by a mischievous impulse.

She skipped to the fortress wall and leaned over the side, kicking a leg up and looking at BH with a naughty grin.

“Hey, Penny... want to come away from the edge?” BH said, a fair degree of worry in his voice. But his request went quite unheeded: instead of coming back from the parapet, Penny leaned further over it. “Ooh...” she teased, rocking forward provocatively, “I think I might fall..!”

BH, no fan of heights at the best of times, had seen enough. He raced to Penny, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to safety.

“DON’T do that again!” he snapped down at her, genuine anger in his voice and his expression. “You really are stupid sometimes!”

Penny felt a strange shiver of trepidation at her placid boyfriend’s unusual reaction. She hadn’t really meant to annoy him...

She slipped an arm round him and looked up into his face with a sweet smile. “I was only kidding,” she purred, hoping to see her smile reflected in his handsome face.

She gasped as, instead, she was unceremoniously lifted off her feet and draped face down over a cannon, her bottom pointing inelegantly towards the sky. She gasped again as a terrible thought hit her like a snowball to the face – was BH going to spank her?

“No! You can’t! You wouldn’t!” she cried, colour rushing to her panic-stricken face, feet kicking comically. And, to Penny’s relief, it seemed that he indeed couldn’t: after letting her squirm for a moment he took her by the waist and lifted her back down to the ground. But no sooner had he done so – and just as Penny parted her lips to call him a big, mean tease – he took hold of the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down, right down to her ankles, leaving her bare legs trembling in the cold Scottish breeze.

“OH!” Penny cried in shock, putting her hands to herself in embarrassment.

“I can and I will!” BH said, the unfamiliar commanding note in his voice making Penny’s legs feel a little weaker. “And without these to protect that naughty little bottom!”

Before she could say the words that flashed across her mind – “You’re not really going to spank me, are you?” – she was turned by the shoulder to face the cannon and smartly placed over it once more. Oh, the metal was so cold against her bare skin! “Help! No! Wait!” she stammered, tossing her head and wriggling in an ineffective attempt to get herself down from the improvised spanking bench she found herself draped over. But BH’s firm hand – the firm hand that she had fantasised about so often – held her in place.

Penny was unaccustomed to being in such an inelegant position full stop, let alone outdoors, and she was naturally worried that someone might see her. But for some reason the only thing she could think of to say was “N-not in front of Mr Pink!”

BH stifled a laugh and countered Penny’s protest in the same strict tone he had employed a moment earlier. “If you didn’t want Mr Pink to see you like this, you should have behaved yourself!”

And with that he raised his hand and snapped it down against his girlfriend’s bottom with a satisfying slap, as crisp as the air. Satisfying to his eye and ear, at least; Penny seemed altogether less pleased with the sensation. “Ooh!” she yelped at the sting. She yelped again when a second smack landed across the base of her buttocks, and again when a third quickly followed to the back of her left thigh. The pink panties she wore squirmed enticingly and were soon outdone in colour by the soft curves they hugged.

The strange, hot, stinging feeling that the spanking brought forth was uncomfortable enough – a sensation that quickly grew very intense, with BH’s rapid, hard smacks – but worse was the sense of humiliation that overwhelmed her. She felt like a naughty little girl; like a misbehaving child being publicly taken in hand; like a very foolish and deserving young woman. And, in stark contrast to her outward display, she felt so turned on that she inwardly hoped the spanking would go on forever. She also stopped worrying that someone might witness her comeuppance. Rather, she imagined being seen and guiltily relished the feeling it gave her. “Spank me harder!” she wanted to scream, but didn’t. “Ow! Ouch!” she yelped instead, and the wonderful tingling feeling between her legs grew more intense with every painful slap to her behind and every undignified exclamation that flew from her lips.


On the walk back to the chalet Penny held Mr Pink under one arm rather than in both. Her other hand was on her sore bottom the entire time, soothing the sting. She was glad that her black leggings hid her red bottom, though a part of her – the same part, no doubt, that had long fantasised about being spanked – felt a delicious pleasure at her naughty secret.

It would be fair to say that she had not expected the day to turn out the way it had; she had not in her wildest dreams imagined that her desire to be spanked would be met in such emphatic fashion. She felt a guilty smile cross her lips as she began to think about how she might earn a spanking the next day.


Hope you liked my story :) Now for the contest bit!

RULES: Follow the links to read the blogs – comment on the blog to prove you were there (or answer the participant’s specific question, if they have one). COPY AND PASTE COMMENTS WILL BE DISQUALIFIED! Each comment earns you one entry for the grand prize. You must provide your email address for your entry to count. Individual pages may also have their own form of entry (Rafflecopter, etc) for additional chances to win prizes. Enjoy all the free stories, posts, and fun!

My question(s): have you ever been spanked outdoors? If so, want to tell me about it? If not, have you ever fantasised about it?

Post a comment for a chance of winning a $20 gift certificate to Blushing Books (and of course a Winter Spanks Grand Prize!)

N.B. I can’t reply to comments as the WS organisers tell me it’s easier to collate contest entries if I don’t. Hugs and thanks to you all for commenting xx

Here are all the Winter Spanks blogs (this thing is big!):