Is Sunday the day of rest?

Maybe for you; not so much for me though.

What Sunday is though is the day of not being bothered to blog. Well, not properly anyway.

I can't even be bothered to add a picture to take your mind off the disappointing lack of entertaining (or otherwise) words.

I'm afraid that you have had a wasted trip my friend.

Oh bollocks. I can't be that hard hearted. Clearly I have a flaccid heart (and they don't make viagra for that!). 

Here are 4 shots unashamedly knicked from The Spank Statement; they're from one of their "In the Photographer's Studio" articles from a few weeks ago - go check them out, 'cos there's lots more to see.

Cool eh? Poison Ivy spanks Harley Quinn.

All the best

Tim

What? You really expect me to post on a weekend?

What are you doing here? It's Saturday. I take the weekend off. That's right - I spend a couple of days with me lazy arse in bed, not wandering around the internet trying to find fun stuff for you lot.

Still and all, I suppose you've made the effort; it might have taken you as much as three mouse clicks to get here. I bet you're exhausted. Perhaps you deserve some small reward.

Okay then - next week I'm planning on doing a site review of The Institute of Discipline, for your delight and delectation. And information, I guess. 

But look at you champing at the bit - you don't want to wait until next week for some tasty pictures of pretty girls getting their bottoms soundly spanked, do you? Hell, I wouldn't if it were me - you clearly need something to occupy your minds (and, just possibly, one of your hands).

As a small thank you for keeping coming back this week (yay, 5 posts in 5 days!) I'll just throw up a couple of preview snaps I've grabbed from IoD videos. Shush though - don't tell anyone. This is just between you and me. A little gift.

So here they are - enjoy them and hurry back next week for more disciplinary mayhem. And the occasional awkward joke.

Katie Strickland spanks Vicki Carter

Miss Strickland canes Michelle Monroe (you may remember that I reviewed Michelle's site Strict English CP a couple of years ago)

Kim Harrison gets soundly spanked

Sophie over the knee of the wonderful Miss Lisa Bircham

The stunning Paris gets spanked (although that's not what they call her on IoD)

The beautiful Miranda (aka Scarlett Rose) over the knee of Miss Strickland (you'll see her face next week when I publish my review)

I love to see spanked girls rubbing their sore bottoms

My favourite female top on the receiving end; ladies and gentlemen, Miss Tamara Kenworthy

Trinny gets the slipper

Oh yes, Tamara as we're much more used to seeing her - delivering a sound spanking.

Well, hopefully you'll like some of those snaps; as mentioned they're all taken from The Institute of Discipline, and you could do far worse things than checking it out ahead of my comprehensive review.

All the best

Tim

Why on earth aren't you reading....The Spank Statement?

Welcome, welcome. Wipe your feet on the mat; no, no, there's no need to take off your shoes - I'll vacuum tomorrow. Treat the place like it's your own.

But keep your thieving hands off my whiskey!

So, take a seat. The cold, dark evenings are drawing in, and there's a nasty biting wind outside. The heating's on, and the kettle's boiled. Relax, why don't you, and embark on a new voyage with Uncle Tum. Erm, I mean Tim.

This then is intended to be the first of a series of little articles about my favourite spanking sites. There'll be no pay sites, and we won't mention Chross ('cos he's far too obvious) but otherwise it'll just be what catches my attention.

Firstly then, the delightful The Spank Statement. 

This is a blog that's been running for at least seven years (the archive goes back to February 2007, so that's not a wild guess).

It's mission statement is...well, why don't I hand you over to the site itself and it's entertaining "about" page:-

• The Spank Statement is a selection of news stories, photos, drawings, quotes, video, fiction, novel extracts, play scripts and more. It’s written and curated by Valdor with contributions fromHarry (theatre, media and FEMEN) Murray Roberts (fiction),Martyn (British television and history) JS666 (American film and history) Michael Gray (early cinema, theatre) Karl Friedrich Gauss (philosophy), Chross (loads of incoming visitors) Dave(loads of comments) Aga (Scandinavian affairs) and not forgettingEric (Film, vintage pornography, opera and cricket reports!)
• The Spank Statement has been at the forefront of the trend towards celebrating the classic curvy hour-glass figure and the fuller bottom ever since it began publishing in 2007.
• The Spank Statement welcomes contributions from readers. If you’d like to have a go at writing a guest post or just have something to bring to our attention please email the address at the top of the left navigation bar.
• The Spank Statement welcomes comments from everyone especially the wider blogging community not just spanking enthusiasts.
• The Spank Statement is redhead friendly.

Well, that's all very clear isn't it? I particularly like the Redhead comment; my wife is a redhead, and I've loved them all of my life. Can't argue with that.

The blog is exceptionally well organised, with clear headings across the top, and a list of categories, which link to the various categories.

The site has been one I've visited over the years, but posts were a bit occasional for a long while. Recently though it has been reinvigorated, with a series of regular updates on several themes, all of which I enjoy. In particular the site has brought to my attention a large number of mainstream spanking pictures that I hadn't previously seen.

At present the two main type of posts relate to spanking photos taken by mainstream photographers, and long well written and incredibly deeply researched articles on theatre spankings.

All of the articles are copiously illustrated with photographs, many of which will be new to you.

If you enjoy Richard Windsor's picture blog you'll love the Spank Statement, which of late has added pictures very frequently and in huge numbers - no single weekly shot for them!

You really should be a regular reader, and if you have a few spare hours to waste on some kinky entertainment you can do far worse than to trawl the archive. 

And that's it; quick, concise and over before you know it. Now, now, no sex jokes please. 

All the best

Tim

PS just a couple of quick piccies from The Spank Statement this time around.

PPS someone emailed to ask if I planned to update my blog every day from now on. Nope. No way. And especially not at weekends, but come back next week for more spanking fun. Oh yes, and lots more lovely pictures. 

And Kiss Me Caroline

So, do you remember a few days ago I said that I'd get around to posting some new spanking stories in a little while? Actually maybe I hinted at it.

Either way I intended to put some new stories up here, in order to reaffirm my original intent for the blog.

So then, this isn't one of them. Strictly speaking this isn't a spanking story at all, although it is a story about a spanking. In fact it's simply a record of a role play that I performed with my dear spanking friend, the lovely Cherri, a few months back.

I suppose it's a little disingenuous to say it's not a story, as of course I have embellished a bit. The scenario (and a chunk of the dialogue) is still what happened in the play session. As you can imagine I had a great time.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this offering, to tide you over until I get around to putting some proper spanking fiction up here. 

Please let me know if you enjoy this.

And Kiss Me Caroline

I heard a commotion from the reception area, and the raised voice of my secretary.

“No, hang on! He's not free!”

The door to my office slammed open, bouncing off the wall. I was being honoured with a visit from Caroline Victoria Davenport.

My body shot to it's feet as my spirits travelled in quite the other direction.

Caroline was a tall women in her early thirties (my files revealed several different birth dates that she had offered), and undeniably attractive. As ever she was smartly dressed in a rather tiny and very tight skirt atop legs that appeared to reach to Heaven.

She fixed me with a hostile glare.

“It's just not good enough.”

She was not my favourite client.

“Ah, Caroline. My favourite client.” So sue me; agents tell lies sometimes.

“It's not good enough, I tell you. When are you going to get me some work?”

“Well, times are hard. People aren't spending as much on the theatre as they did.”

Caroline was a competent actress who had appeared in a couple of soaps a few years before, but now considered television below her. She was determined to pursue her muse on the stage. Her muse was less keen, and her pursuit of it was becoming tiresome.

Ambition is nice but I had my doubts. Mainly because, for all of her other qualities, Caroline herself wasn't nice.

“That's rubbish! You never send me out for any good roles.”

“I send you out for everything that I can. No one's working at the moment.”

“Crap! Tina and Sonia are both working. I wouldn't have minded the roles they got. Why didn't I?”

“Well, Tina and Sonia are both very well liked. In the business.”

“They're well liked? Those two little cows? I'm beloved.”

I looked at the ground. It showed no willingness to swallow me whole. What an entirely unreliable floor it was.

I shook my head, sorrowfully.

“Well, not altogether. You do have a teensy reputation for being, well, demanding?”

I was rewarded for this gem with a moment's silence. Caroline looked me up and down with a glare that suggested I was a cockroach found in her crunchie nut cornflakes.

“Demanding? Me? I'm a goddamn pleasure to work with. Ask anyone.”

“Um. Yes. Well. I'm very sorry, but not every one shares that view.”

“What on Earth are you talking about, you silly little man? Who are you talking about?”

“Hmm, just...people.”

“I am lovely to everyone I meet, you senile old fart! Name one thing anyone has ever said against me.”

I sighed, and straightened my shoulders. Turning, I reached behind me and lifted an often read piece of paper from my desk.

“Well, I have this list....”

“A list? A list? Who makes a list, for God's sake?”

“Remember that audition you did for the Desperate Housewives musical? You didn't get it....”

“That casting director was such a bitch!” Caroline roared over my sentence, and then threw herself into the chair that crouched terrified in front of my desk.

“Well, she certainly wasn't your biggest fan. She said you were late, rude, awkward, abusive, impossible to direct, resistant to suggestions and that you, erm, attempted violence.”

“That stupid women wouldn't know talent if it bit her arse. I was lovely, amenable and thoughtful. She has it in for me. She was a mousy little thing; probably jealous of my looks.”

“It's not just her though.”

Caroline screeched. In distant jungles startled birds took to the air.

“Who else dared....?”

“Well.” This wasn't going to go down well. “She had the note signed by...well, most of the casting directors in town. They'd really rather not see you for anything.”

Caroline swore, bitterly and foully. I resisted the urge to cover my ears; I had been in the Navy as a lad, and half of the phrases she used were new to me. I made an impressed mental note of the best of them.

“You know Caroline, that shade of red is rather unattractive on you.” I had ensured that my desk was firmly between us before hurling this grenade.

This time the windows shook as she displayed a quite credible falsetto squeal.

“That's it! You are fired! I will let you know my new representation shortly.” She stood and turned to leave my office.

“If you ask Denise in Reception she has a list of agents you might like to try out.”

Caroline spun around again.

“Are you so keen to get rid of me then?” Damn it. Never try to be helpful. I had shot myself in the foot. “I'm not so easily put off. Why don't you just do your job, you vile little man?”

I confess that by this time I was getting just a little tired of the constant abuse.

“This is no fun for me either, you know. If you're not working I'm not getting paid either. I send you out for everything you ask me about. Even when it costs me with the casting directors.”

“Now I know that's rubbish. I haven't been seen in three months.”

“You auditioned for McLintock – The Musical three weeks ago. And you slapped the director of that one.” I'm pretty even tempered but I didn't appreciate being called a liar. Well, not when I had been doing my best for her.

“Oh, I didn't care for him at all.”

“Yes, I know. You slapped him.”

“Well, the filthy minded little sod asked me to show him my bottom. Said it was a feature of the show.”

I was exasperated.

“Did you not even read the script? You were supposed to be chased around the stage in your underwear and then spanked. Eight times every week. With matinees.”

“What? Certainly not. How undignified.”

“It's a shame too. A daily spanking would do you the world of good.” I had advanced around my desk; all that stood between us now was an office chair.

I suspect that the look on my face was rather reminiscent of that glimpsed by the generals travelling with Hannibal as he advanced through the Alps.

Caroline backed up a step or two. She actually looked a little taken aback. I relished the change in her demeanour.

“Well, good meeting. I'm sure you'll have something wonderful for me soon.” She gabbled, chin on her chest as she warily watched my approach.

“I don't suppose that I can spank you every day, but a really good one now would be a decent start, I think.”

“Now Tim, there's no need to get carried away.”

I seized her wrist, and tugged her towards the waiting chair.

She made a noise somewhere between a squeal and a howl as I sat, her momentum causing her to fall face down across my lap.

“Tim, don't you bloody dare! Ow!”

The rather pleasing end to that particular line was elicited by my large rather hard skinned hand splatting against her raised bottom. The tight little skirt she wore flattened; it gave little protection against the smack.

Wriggling, she turned her head and looked back at me, my hand raised, about to provide the second of what I felt would need to be very many smacks.

“Now Tim, we can talk about this! Ow! There's really no need..Ow! This isn't..Ow! No! Stop! Youch!”

Caroline was never one to be easily silenced, and she kept up a stream of pointless conversation, regularly punctuated by cries of pain as my hand thoroughly spanked the whole surface of her rear end.

I remembered the delights and satisfactions of manual labour (as I mentioned, I spent several years in the Navy in my youth) as the muscles in my arm thrummed with each echoing spank. My hand alternated it's targets, ensuring that each buttock received its fair share of slaps.

With one particularly firm spank I paused, my hand resting lightly on the stretched surface of her skirt. It seemed to me that I was forgetting something.

“OW! Let me up! That's quite enough! You've made your point!” Caroline gasped, and tried to tip herself off my knee.

My left arm lay across the small of her back, and it refused to let her up.

“Well, I think that's a decent start. But I'm sure that this lesson would be more effective with a bit less padding.” It had come back to me after all.

“Padding! Do you mean my arse is fat?!” It certainly wasn't. “What the Hell are you doing?”

I had an answer to that. I had gripped the hem of her skirt and was forcing it up over the firmly fleshed mounds of her behind. Her efforts to wriggle away actually helped me in my endeavours.

“I don't suppose I'll ever have the chance to do this again, so I'm going to make sure the lesson is one that you'll remember. A good bare bottomed spanking is exactly what's called for!”

“You dirty old sod! Leave me alone. Don't you dare...OW!”

Her skirt raised Caroline's bottom lay revealed. She wore the briefest of thongs to preserve a modicum of her modesty but it did nothing to shelter her rapidly reddening cheeks from the meaty slaps of my right hand.

I smacked away at the taut surface, enjoying the feeling of elasticity as my hand rebounded time and again. There's nothing like flesh on flesh, and while I normally enjoy caressing a lady's bottom in this case punishing one felt just right.

“You've had this coming for a long time, my girl. And I'm just the man to give it to you.” I'll never make it as a writer with corny dialogue like that, but somehow it felt appropriate to the circumstances.

The vague blush that had initially dawned on Caroline's nicely tanned cheeks had grown rather deeper in colour; her struggles had peaked and now grew less, and her gasps had turned to rather pathetic sobs.

I gave a last few soul satisfying smacks; my hand rebounding from her bruised flesh even as the cracks of contact rebounded from the walls of my office.

Caroline lay limp across my lap. Perhaps I had broken her spirit.

“All done now.” I said, as I eased her back onto her designer heels. Caroline gave me a look that I found hard to interpret; it seemed both a little regretful and perhaps slightly respectful. I didn't believe that I'd seen either emotion on Caroline before.

I had pulled her skirt back into place, and her hands both crept around to cuddle her battered bottom. She rubbed at it gently, and the air hissed from between her pursed lips.

She seemed to be struggling for words. I felt it must fall to me to carry the burden of conversation.

“Okay then. That'll do. Go. Leave. I'll send a letter formally terminating our agency relationship.”

Caroline sighed, and, for the first time in a few minutes, her eyes met mine.

“No, no. Let's not be hasty.” she sighed. “Um. I may have...deserved that.”

It took a genuine effort of will not to fall from my chair. Shock can have some strange effects.

“You want to stay with me?”

“Yes. I think so. I'll...go now. I'll be in touch.”

With which rather surprising words Caroline turned and meekly limped from the office, gently pulling the door shut behind her.

I admit that I was rather perplexed. Whilst spanking Caroline was satisfying for the sheer joy of punishing her bratty behaviour, I had expected that it would finally force her to dump me in favour of an agent less likely to give her a sound spanking. Her demeanour did not suggest that I had been successful.

Actresses! They're a breed apart.

I turned to my computer. I supposed I'd better check the casting notices to see if there was anything I could convince someone to see Caroline for. Bugger!

Ta ta for now.

All the best

Tim

PS all pictures are from the wonderful (as I may have mentioned) Real Life Spanking and have absolutely no relevance to the story whatsoever! Nice though, aren't they?

Rave On...It's a Crazy Feeling - or why I love RLS so much

So then, RLS. Or Real Life Spanking, as it's more formally known. It's the Dutch king of spanking video websites.

First of all, let's get one thing straight. This is not a website review (I did one of those a couple of years ago). No, this is a love letter to a site that continues to give me hours of simple but slightly sordid pleasure.

RLS is a site based around a simple proposition; there are naughty ladies out there, and Mike (the webmaster and principal spanker) is happy to punish them in an effort to keep them on the straight and narrow. And across his knee.

The plots in the videos are not complex; there isn't masses of build up to the punishments. The girls are told what they have done wrong, and how they will be punished, and away we go, amid gasps, sighs and very satisfying wriggling.

As I recall my review of the website was immensely positive; I think that the only possible negatives are that there is little variety in spankers, and the scenes aren't terribly distinctive, with the same basic story just recycled with a different girl.

Ah, but the girls! Mike has a real knack of locating spanking amateurs who cover pretty much all body types and racial divides, and all of whom look delightful over his knee. Another plus is that, while most of the spankees are in their twenties, they do range in age up to around 40, and I do appreciate seeing an older woman being spanked,

If you've read much of this blog you'll probably know that I'm not generally a fan of the male spankers who abound it video clips, but Mike is one of the rare exceptions. Whether it's because, being a little portly, he reminds me of a slimmer version of myself, or whether it's because he always seems to treat even the naughtiest of girls with genuine respect, I find him a joy to watch.

I have spoken to two or three of the ladies that he has spanked and all of them show real affection for him. He seems to form a lasting bond with everyone that works with him.

This is obvious if you take even a cursory glance at the site; there are masses of videos to watch! At present their appear to be 1315 of them, each of around 10 minutes in length. And there are 134 different bottoms getting smacked!

I appreciate the straightforward nature of these films, and, as they are generally titled after the names of the girls in them, they are easy to browse once downloaded.

The specific things that I like are, in no particular order:-

1. lots of over the knee spankings
2. firm but reasonable punishments
3. lots of progression, from over clothing down to bare bottomed spanking
4. faces; I love to see the face of a girl as the pain from her punishment builds
5. that magic shot from an angle in front of the young lady, which both captures her face and also her bottom as she lies over Mike's lap. You can see both buttocks, and Mike's hand. And a little of the redness. Love that shot. Like this one here:-

And this one.

Just one more.

6. A variety of implements but still a firm emphasis on a firm hand (hey, why doesn't someone create a web site called that?!!).

I'm not going to list the girls I like best, because, frankly, I'd still be writing this in two days time, and I do have a life outside of spanking. Admittedly it's dull, boring, humdrum and just kind of grey, but it exists. Proof is available on request.

In conclusion I can, hand on heart, say that, if you only wish to subscribe to one spanking video website, then this is the one. Or Northern Spanking. Or Spanked in Uniform. Or Triple AAA spanking. Or Dreams of Spanking. Or Punished Brats. Or one of the other great sites out there.

Damn. We really are spoilt for choice. Just have a look around, read a few reviews perhaps, and see what best fits your version of our kink. 

But I think that this is my personal favourite. At the moment, at any rate.

Enough for now; I'm off to bully my son into grilling me some nice meaty bacon for a sandwich. Got to keep my strength up, and my stomach filled.

All the best

Tim the Tum

PS in case you're just looking at the pictures, they all came from Real Life Spanking, but, hey, I'm sure you worked that out, dear reader. Oh, and to avoid any confusion, these are my own screen grabs - the image quality offered by Mike is much higher.

PPS don't confuse RLS with Real Spankings; they're very different sites (although I quite like the latter as well, although for different reasons; we may have to discuss them one day!)

Whys, wherefores and other....y'know, stuff

So nice to be back; I checked this blog's stats yesterday, and was pleased to see that, in my absence, I was still getting around 250 hits each day.

Yesterday after just one post this increased by over 300. I'm quite flattered to be honest. Very many thanks to each and everyone one of you who hung around, or rushed back. Tell your friends - Tim the tum is back in business!

Blogs tend to make you greedy. When you start out it's just a forum for your thoughts. Maybe some one else will be interested enough to squint at it from time to time but that's not the reason that you create it.

Then you start to get an increasing number of page views; you become hooked on checking the number of daily visitors. The overall page view number starts to increase more quickly.

If you're lucky, and you write a spanking blog, you get Chrossed, and your page views rockets up. It falls back but maybe you keep a few more regulars each time. You begin to think that you're important.

Readers, a few at least, may comment on what you write. They may ask questions, as though you are now an expert on something. The attention is flattering.

Then you start to wonder why less than 1 percent of your readers bother to comment. Resentment builds - I'm slaving away trying to be interesting and entertaining, and you can't be bothered to add the odd fucking line? Well, goddamn you!

Stop. Take a breath. Stand back and look at what you're doing.

This is all rather perverse (no, not the fun kinky stuff). You created a blog for your own satisfaction, and now you're pissed off because not enough (in your mind) readers bother to comment. When you started off one comment would have amazed and delighted you.

I've had masses of fun with this blog over the last few years. I've been granted access to spanking websites that would have cost me significant money to join otherwise. I've chatted by email with most of the current legends of the spanking field. I've had the opportunity to get an overview of our thing as is slowly trundles a bit closer to mainstream acceptance.

Honestly, I have no right to expect more than I've gotten.

I was talking to Dani Hunt a while ago (and yes, the blog has given me the opportunity to name drop quite a few spanking professionals) and she asked me why I started this blog. I was totally stumped - I couldn't get close to remembering.

I've looked back to the early posts (still there, should anyone care to check them out); this blog was intended to offer my spanking fiction to a different audience. I'd written quite a few stories that appeared on The Spanking Library, and a whole bunch that were on Fan Fiction, but I was greedy for more readers, and I thought that this approach might get me a few more.

I dunno if it did. I like to think so.

It's been years (almost literally) since I last posted a spanking story here - I'll try to rectify that soon. I've had a traumatic and trying couple of years, and just haven't been able to force myself to sit down and create.

Don't get me wrong; I don't have writer's block. I never have writer's block but, as I've commented previously, I do tend to suffer from writer's "can't be fucking bothered". I'm lazy. Writing requires concentration. Ah, just watch another RLS video and then play a couple of games of Freecell. 

And maybe have a nap.

So, I promise to try to do better. Not for the first time, I appreciate. But, hey, what do you have to lose by giving me a chance - a couple of key clicks everyone now and then, and maybe I'll entertain you!

All the best

Tim

PS pictures liberally sprinkled around were borrowed from the wonderful Spank Statement, of whom I will say more in a shortly pending post

Political correctness and spanking

Oh I know, months and months with barely a whisper and then I return with, of all things, a goddamn serious post! The nerve!

Still, I think that some of this deserves to be said. Or written. And, if I'm particularly lucky, actually read. You never know. Well, you do, if you're reading this. I suppose I never know.

And then he reaches up and manages to snag the trailing edge of the topic as it floats gracefully past him.

I don't know how many of you saw the Yahoo thing about a professional basketball player who, to end an interview with a pretty blond reporter, kissed the side of her head as he exited, stage left. It was certainly inappropriate, even though I got the sense that she had interviewed him before so they weren't exactly strangers, but was it more?

The reporter reacted professionally, laughed it off and nothing more.

A writer on Yahoo wrote a scathing article claiming that it was "straight up sexual harassment".

Um.

Look, firstly, I'm not one of the knee jerk anti-political correctness brigade. PC, as a thing, exists because there were, and still are, abuses of minorities, sexual and racial. that sometimes are passed as just banter or conversation, or such like. As a white heterosexual male I'm acutely conscious that many of these excesses originate with people who look like me.

The problem with PC is that sometimes it's taken to ridiculous extremes. Like, in my opinion, it was by the Yahoo contributor. Incidentally Yahoo then reported on their own writer's article, and sought comments. At time of writing this there were 400 odd, and, on a quick skim, I didn't see a single one that supported her position.

The problem is, though, that this is how I see things. The issue is how the reporter who was kissed felt about it. If she felt demeaned or intimidated then she was certainly harassed, although to claim any discomfort is of a sexual nature seems extreme.

This brings us to the crux of the issue; sexual harassment (and the politically correct reaction to it) is ultimately in the eye of the harassee. Ugh. that's clumsy. Let me rephrase; if you feel you were sexually harassed then you  probably were. If you don't, well, you weren't.

Not every one will agree with this. For some any suggestion relating to a woman's appearance, for instance, would always be inappropriate, unless from her partner.

There's an episode of The West Wing in which White House lawyer Ainsley Hayes (played by Emily Proctor) is called back into work from a date, whilst wearing a particularly attractive dress. Her boss, Sam Seaborn (Rob Lowe), makes a comment about how good she looks, and a temporary assistant in the office takes offence. Even when Ainsley insists that it is just office banter and that, far from being offended, she was gratified that her outfit had the effect that she intended, the temp insists she is letting down her sex by accepting it.

Obviously I don't agree with this point of view, but still, whilst being a bit parochial, I can see that it is possible to receive inappropriate comments without realising what they are. 

As a male spanker, when I put a lady over my knee and spank her, am I abusing her, despite her consent?

There was a long thread on the ITC Spanking forum recently, after a gentleman advertiser offered £500 to a non-professional spankee who would take a hard caning (although not of a judicial level). This excited speculation that he was looking for an inexperienced girl, maybe short of money, who could be compelled to take an excessive punishment by her desperation. In short, that he was looking to exploit her.

This was all bollocks, of course. In the end he was defended by Tara Red, an experienced spanking professional who had referred a friend of hers to him, and whom he had treated respectfully and generously.

Some would say that he still abused her, that consent isn't the crucial issue. That the level of punishment is more important.

I'm a switch, and relatively inexperienced at taking punishment. I like a firm hand spanking that leaves me red and sore, and I adore the deep feeling of bruised muscles that tend to last a couple of days.

To some of you who love to be spanked I'm a wimp. Those of you who pay professional ladies to administer 60 or so firm strokes of the cane certainly are entitled to feel so.

Ask anyone outside of our scene and they would, I'm sure, be horrified at the idea. Surely that would be abuse? 

Most of us, it seems, are opposed to the use of corporal punishment in the raising of children, largely because of the possibilities that the system is open to abuse. I'm sure that, except in the most unusual and excessive cases, school children have never been subjected to the levels of punishment that we not only crave but often pay to receive!

So are we being abused, despite our willing acquiescence? 

Say I pay a professional spankee £125 for an hour session. We have a little role play, I put her across my knee, lift her skirt, take down her knickers and spend the next 20 minutes smacking her bottom with increasing force.

By the time I'm finished her cheeks have a healthy red glow; she is wriggling each time I spank her, and she utters the occasional gasp. When I let her up she rubs at her bottom.

Have I abused her? If I did this to my wife (who isn't really into spanking) I could certainly be convicted of wife beating.

Does the smile on her face as she hugs me preclude my actions from being abusive?

Returning, for a moment, to the beginning of this rant, I question whether the sportsman's action could be considered sexual. My mother kisses my head whenever I take my leave from her. I kiss my daughter on the forehead or hand when I wish her good night.

I can't see the act as sexual.

However, I am reminded of the various lengthy debates I have read about exactly how much of a sexual act spanking is. As a group we have no consensus on this fairly fundamental issue.

I don't think spanking is always sexual, as such; I rarely get aroused during spanking sessions, somewhat to my surprise, as watching spanking videos always gets me up and ready. When I pat my wife on her bottom I always feel a stirring, When I plan a session I certainly get sexually excited.

My wife, as a non-spanker, cannot understand that a spanking is entirely satisfactory to me of itself. I don't need it to be foreplay. I don't feel cheated if I don't get a happy ending. I really don't need it; my reaction to spanking seems, to me, to be something deeper than a sexual one.

Mind you, I have, since before I was a teenager, used spanking fantasies to become aroused.

Could be that I'm just emotionally and sexually fucked up. 

Might be it's not just me though.

My wife is aware that I occasionally session with spanking people; it's a compromise we have come to, so that she doesn't feel she needs to submit to my spanking desires. For years though she did put up with me spanking her periodically, albeit very mildly and generally as a lead up to sex. Was I abusing her?

A few years ago when I developed an interest in being spanked, mush to her discomfort, was she being abused when I pushed her to smack me?

I don't have an answer to any of this; it occurs to me that we should be careful in hurling around accusations of abuse or harassment, but equally, it's difficult to say that someone hasn't been abused unless you know exactly how they feel about what has happened.

Things were easier when I was young; I slapped a lot of bottoms, without giving a lot of thought as to whether my actions were welcomed or not. I believe they were in general, as many of the girls involved stayed good friends with me (and several invited me to take matters further) but, with the benefit of hindsight, I have done things I'm not proud of, that I would never do now.

Certainly I committed acts that would now be considered sexual harassment, at least, and quite possibly abuse.

The thing is, while I don't like political correctness when taken too far, it's hard to argue that things aren't better for young women now than they were 35 years ago. I have a 16 year old daughter, and I sleep easier for knowing that, in some areas, she won't have to worry about things we took for granted.

Humans, it seems to me, are designed to overreact. Extremes don't force us to become moderate; they shove us, pendulum like, to the far end of our tether. We've always been this way, and I see no signs of our changing in the near future.

Of course it can be argued that these extremes have produced some of out greatest achievements. From the horrors of the Second World War, the ultimate example of man's inhumanity, came the creation here in Britain, of the Welfare State and the National Health Service, my country's finest attempt to support those in society who are struggling, to ensure that no one is left behind.

So, no conclusions, but a lot of questions. Any thoughts?

I'll try not to leave so long next time.

All the best

Tim