There was a very nice email from a reader called Sam wondering if since TipTopper contributed some very good vintage stuff would we be interested in any from his collection taken mainly from ‘party pics’ and 1970s and early 1980s magazines?

There were some very eclectic images, some purporting to be ‘real spankings’, and very few of them had I seen before. I have decided to keep a couple back and frankly for various reasons, such as unhappy candid’s with faces etc, some are probably unpublishable at this time.

Here is a random selection with thanks to Sam for your delectation and entertainment.

The top one looks like one sent by TipTopper and the other drawing is probably a variation on a Benson. But we also have a stylised and stylish magazine OTK pose, a ‘realistic’ woodshed shot and finally a movie screenshot from a film I don’t know.

Incidentally the last picture was dubbed ‘real.’ No disrespect, but I doubt it, but then who knows, the nuns look real enough.

Here is a little anecdote that I pulled off the Experience Project; an account by Day Doc who reports on the spanking of a sorority pledge back in the 1970s.

He writes:

This is a true story that happened in the late 70′s. In my first year of college I had a girlfriend that I’d been dating for several months. I was in fraternity and she was in a sorority.

We had a large party the night before with about 200 people there and of course a band and lots of booze. I remembered late during the party a young girl getting up on the stage while the band was playing and she slipped her dress off and was only wearing bikini panties now.

She danced for several songs before someone got her off the stage. I don’t think any of us minded the show as a lot of our parties got pretty wild. The next afternoon I was sitting in girlfriend’s apartment with her and her roommate (Pam).

I heard a knock on the door and saw Pam get up and let two girls in. The three girls were all sorority sisters and the fourth I didn’t recognize at first but she was one of their pledges.

She (the girl) apologised for her behaviour the night before; then I realized she was the one dancing on the stage.

I said, “That’s okay, nobody minded”.

Pam said yes they did mind.

The girl apologised again seemed sincere, but Pam said, “I don’t think you are sorry enough yet,” and then looked at the third girl and my girlfriend. With that she got up and left the room quickly returning her sorority paddle in hand.

This paddle was about 18″ long, 4″ wide and 1″ thick. It was nicely finished and varnished. Meanwhile the pledge was sitting in an arm chair and I saw her eyes get wide as she saw the paddle.

Pam walked up to her and told her to stand up. By now I was trying my best to conceal a huge hard-on. Pam told the girl to turn around and put her hands on armrests of the chair. She did this.

She was wearing sweat pants and top at the time. The other girl got up and walked over behind her. My girlfriend and I were still sitting on the loveseat about four feet away and behind the pledge, at an angle. Without saying a word the girl who just walked reached her thumbs into the side waistband of the sweats and quickly pulled them and her panties down to her ankles.

She had a small firm pale behind that was quite nice. The pledge didn’t move and the sight was making my cock strain against my jeans. Pam stood the pledges side and placed the paddle against her bare bottom rubbing it back and forth slowly.

Then see pulled the paddle way back and swung it as hard as she could. It hit the pledges ass so hard I saw them flatten and spring back. The smack was so loud it almost sounded like a gunshot.

The pledge let out a loud ouch and Pam told her to keep quiet and stay in that position, before she followed with a second and third lick taking maybe 30 seconds between licks. Each time the pledges hair flew back and see let out an ‘oh’ or something like that.

After the third lick Pam stood back and the pledge stood up and rubbed her already red bottom. Then Pam handed the paddle to the other girl and told the pledge to bend back over, which she did and the third girl stood beside her, swung the paddle back then let it fly to the girls backside.

This sounded even louder than Pam’s licks so I knew it was hitting her harder. With the girls next lick the pledge stood straight up grabbing her bottom and yelled out.

“Okay,” the third girl said, “Now we start over, bend back down.”

The pledge looked back at the girl and I could see the pain in her face and could tell she was sobbing quietly with tears running down her cheeks.

By now I was seriously afraid I would cum in my pants at any moment and tried not to move for that reason.

The third girl proceeded to give the pledge three very hard licks. Each time the paddle hit her bottom her hair would fly back and she would let out a muffled sound. Then my girlfriend stood up and walked over and took the paddle.

The pledge was standing up again rubbing her extremely red bottom. She looked back at my girlfriend and said, “Please.”

My girlfriend told her to spread her legs as wide as she could (she still had the sweat pants around her ankles) and she did spreading her feet about shoulder wide or wider. She told the pledge step back three big steps and she did. Then my girlfriend told her to grab her ankles and keep her legs straight.

The pledge grabbed her ankles which stuck her butt way out and gave me a clear right at her pussy.

My girlfriend then drew back and swung. When the paddle hit it knocked the girl over and she fell on the floor.

“Get up and back into position,” my girlfriend said.

The girl did giving me a great look at the front of her trimmed little brown bush. With the second lick the girl fell to her hands and knees. My girlfriend said, “Put your head down on the floor and spread your legs.”

After the third lick the girl jumped but was told to get back down. Then the third girl told her to take her pants and panties all the way off. They told her to go stand in the corner which she did. By now her bottom was bruising up and as she stood there it got worse.

The girls continued to talk for a while and the pledge had stopped crying after about 30 minutes but was still standing there. Then the third girl said, “okay put your pants back on we need to go.”

They all left and as the pledge walked past me she looked at me her was about as red as her butt had been, but from embarrassment. Just as they left Pam said she was going to go lie down in her room for a bit and hurried away.

I took my girlfriend to her room and we were naked in heartbeat and screwed our eyes out for about an hour.

Afterward she said “you really liked watching that girl get paddled didn’t you?”

I said I did and that it was a great turn-on.

She just said, “hmm, let me think about this for a while.”

This is another of the pictures sent in by Sam. I have obscured the faces in case it is the real life picture of a college spanking that is claimed.

The back-story is (or is claimed to be) a 20-year-old woman is being spanked at her Christian community college witnessed by a friend (the photographer) and a female member of staff. The picture was later published by the girl herself (on Facebook it was suggested) in either a spirit of bravado or as a protest.

It may equally be a set-up, an elaborate birthday spanking or a scene from a movie. As ever, you decide.

Now here is the thing, any fool can chain the willing or even unwilling up and have her at his mercy, but sending a girl to the corner is just as restrictive and carries with it the added element of it being voluntary on both sides.

Okay so it’s a given that few girls will go voluntarily to the corner, but that makes it all the better, since their cooperation strips away all pretence and renders denial of submission pointless.

Now just to remind everyone there are two basic concepts around corner time.

The first being anticipation: ‘you’re gonna get it so wait there until I am ready.’ This plays on a girl’s nerves and helps build tension and expectation and makes a spanking more effective when it comes.

The second is corner time after the fact, which gives a girl a chance to recover and reflect on her punishment to makes sure it sinks in. It also gives the spanker a chance to admire the effects of his work and revel in the ascetics of it.

Of course both can be used together and often are, but usually only for the reasons given above.

Now some girls go meekly and willing to the corner and will stay there until they are told to move, but others are given to fidgeting, rubbing, looking over their shoulders, complaining and asking if they can come out yet, and some will even abandon the corner altogether when nobody is looking.

There is even a game called ‘Russian Roulette’ where a girl in the corner will constructively fidget to see how far she can get before her Top/Dom notices and gives her another spanking or some other sanction.

We will come back to techniques to counter this in a moment.

There is one more situation to consider that can augment a corner situation and significantly ups the stakes. This is the matter of public corner time.

Now this is not that common in a sub/Dom relationship (except where it is part of play) as most couples do not want to embarrass or involve outsiders in their lifestyle. Although it does form a central theme in much spanking literature and it does happen in earnest in some situations.

One of the Yahoo groups carried this post by Carrie in a forum:

“I’m 19 and at college and not only do I get spanked, but I have to do at least 30 minutes in the corner before and after a spanking. It’s usually much worse before as all I can do is think about what I have got coming. Afterwards I am just happy to cry and get over it. But towards the end of the second corner time I start to get nervous in case someone comes and sees me standing there. It is so embarrassing, especially as I have to turn around and explain why to whoever is there.”

Another is from a 27-year-old who has an open spanking relationship with boyfriend.

“Spanking is one thing, but I really hate corner time, especially as all get is a t-shirt. Most of our friends know about us and if any of them come around they get to see me standing there with a very red-bottom and by then a red face.”

Corner time techniques are many and varied. The most common is to have a girl put her hands on her head or sometimes to kneel. Either and both of these make it much more difficult to get in and out of position if you don’t want to watch her all the time.

The situation can be augmented by putting talcum or an easily disturbed object around their feet.

Once in BDSM implement shop in Islington (London) a salesman tried to sell a device to attach to a submissive that either rings an alarm if they move or alternately gives them an electric shock. What is wrong with an old fashioned penny? He was asked.

The guy had genuinely never heard of it and was pleased to be told.

The theory is that you tie the girl’s thumbs behind her back with easily broken paper tape or a ribbon and then make her hold a penny to the wall with her nose.

In actual fact it is hard to keep a penny there and more often a larger coin is used and held in place with the girl’s forehead. But that depends if one wants her to fail or not.

Here is a literary reference for its use.

“Even as a great girl on the point of coming out I was rebellious and whenever I was spanked, would do my upmost to avoid corner time. To this end my governess would place me in the corner with a penny against my nose which I was required to hold there lest I receive another spanking. I must confess it worked a treat and was funny to watch when others were so restrained. I especially loved seeing the nursery maid spanked and put thusly in the corner.”

The point about corner time is that ultimately the submissive cooperates and cannot deny that she does. A line is crossed and the power in the relationship transcends throw-down or overmatching more than just a spanking ever can.

Here is another from the batch sent in by Sam labelled ‘real.’ Its claimed source is a vanilla Tumblr that captioned it ‘Aunt B_ spanks big Sis ‘ The faces were clearly visible before I blurred them. Aunt B looked determined and Bis Sis uncomfortable.

I have nothing else on this and it could be a movie (they usually are) or Face Book birthday spanking.

I know some of you out there like to puzzle these things in the hopes of genuine spanking find and here your guess is as good as mine.

I recently had a great letter from 74-year-old Ged who gave permission to publish this anecdote from his life as a publican.

*

I have just found your excellent blog A Voice in the Corner. I have a short true story from circa 1974.

My then wife and I took over a Pub in a north of England town. It proved very successful, and we generated a good lunch time trade, doing snacks and meals. We hired a local girl, in her mid-20’s, to help out in the busy bar, during week day lunch time.

She was called Janet, and had a young child from a previous relationship. Evidently the father did a runner as soon as he found she was pregnant. Her mother looked after the child, so she could work for us. She was a great asset to the pub, and was popular with all the regulars.

One day I had gone into town to replenish some stock, and on returning, noticed that Janet was still around although it was after closing time. I also sensed that an atmosphere was present between her and my wife. I asked what was wrong, and my wife informed me that she had seen Janet take some money out of the tip box. This money was shared out every month between all who worked behind the bar. I asked Janet why she had done it, and she explained she had received a bill that had to be paid instantly, and she thought she could take some money and repay it later. I explained that what she had done was wrong, but my wife interjected, saying we should dismiss her. I took her to one side telling her how popular Janet was, and what a good worker she had been. We agreed that we should try to make some allowance.

We sat Janet down and explained that we could dismiss her there and then, but were reluctant to do so, and asked her what she thought we should do. Before she could respond, my wife just blurted out, “that if Janet had been one of our daughters, she would have received a monumental spanking, and that would have been the end of it.”

Janet’s replied, “If that means I keep my job, please do it now.”

We were both stunned at her reply, as my wife’s comment had only been a spur of the moment comment. But there was no going back, and my wife said OK and told me to carry out the punishment there and then.

Janet nodded her agreement. I stood and moved an upright chair in the centre of the room, and asked Janet to come over my knee. She did this willingly, and her fingers were on the floor one side, and her toes on the floor at the other. She was wearing a summer dress, with no tights or stockings.

I began to spank slowly over her dress, and then lifted it to begin over her knickers, which were a royal blue lace.  After a couple of minutes, my wife said that I should remove the knickers, and concentrate on her bare bottom. Without prompting Janet eased herself up and removed them down to her ankles herself.

I continued spanking her cheeks alternately for about three or four minutes until her bottom became very red and then I stopped and told Janet it was over.

She rose slowly, pulled her knickers up and adjusted her dress. We told her the matter was now settled, and that if in future she needed money, she should mention it to us. My wife suggested I should run Janet home in the car.

Janet did not say much during the short five minute journey, but when I stopped at her house, she turned to me looked me in the eye and said “I am sorry for what I did, and thank you for punishing me for it.”

She then moved forward and gave me a kiss on the lips, and got out of the car.

A few weeks later, her mother was in the bar one evening and called me over. I thought she was going to give me a rollicking, but just the opposite. She told me that Janet had told her what had happened and had showed her the red bottom. Her mother said I had done the right thing, and should not hesitate to do likewise if she stepped out of line again. I told her I would, and bought her another drink.

Janet continued to work for us for over five years, and the spanking was referred to occasionally, usually in fun, but I never got another opportunity.

*

Thanks Ged for that little slice of social history.

Picture courtesy of Chelsea Pfeiffer Entertainment

These were found on EP and were published as true accounts. One or two of these don’t entirely ring true though, but as usual you can decide. I know some you appreciate this sort of thing and some of the accounts that follow are better than others.

Jenny wrote:

Even when we were in college Mom was a big one for making me and my sisters stand in the corner after she’d spanked our bottoms. She was an over the knee spanker and her usual weapon of choice was her hairbrush. Most spankings were given in our own bedrooms or in hers but sometimes downstairs as well. Regardless of the location we’d be made to stand in the corner for a period of time afterwards. Usually this would be for five minutes but sometimes it was “Until I tell you you can come out.” If it was in my room or hers it was not too horrible but to be made to stand like that in the kitchen or living room and have my sisters or my Dad see me like that was humiliating in the extreme.

She would spank us bare bottom and then say “Get up and go stand in the corner…keep your panties down and think about what you’ve done to get yourself in this position. You are to keep your hands at your sides. You are not to move or to rub your bottom or you’ll find yourself back over my knee for more understood? Now move!”

We would stand there sniffling and sobbing and Mom would either watch us or else check back every minute or so and we wouldn’t dare try to rub our butts for fear she’d make good on her promise to give additional spanks.

When the sentence was over we were told to pull up our pants and that we could go. We would have to apologize to Mom first for whatever we did (or hadn’t done) and were forgiven but warned that we’d get the exact same thing again if we did not heed her words.

Nem wrote:

I’m 21 and I’m still spanked by mom, by my older sister and my boyfriend.

I am in the same college as my boyfriend and he spanks me since the 1st year in college, because I was almost was thrown out. He knew that I’m spanked by mom, once he witnessed one spanking, but he didn’t know the way of it till he told mom that he spanked me, and he also told her why (sometimes he is too honest).

Then mom explained him how my punishments are delivered. First of all spankings are given on the bare at any place even if in public and if we are in private I must bare myself for the spanking and then I have to kneel in the corner my hands behind my back. I can’t rub or even touch my bottom because if I do so the punishment starts again.

Once at 18 after she learned that I was and will be spanked by my boyfriend I asked mom if she doesn’t think that I’m too old for spankings but her answer solved all my questions. She said that she knows that at 18 legally I am an adult, but if I behave myself like a child I am treated like a child. She also added that she would spank me even at 30 or 40 or 50 if I won’t change my comportment, and I won’t become a “responsible adult.” She also said that she don’t mind if I’m spanked by my boyfriend.

Patsy wrote:

Even when I was home from college I knew as soon as my name was changed to Patricia from Patsy, or my whole named used I was in trouble. I was made to stand in the corner not only after having my bare bottom smacked but before as well.

I know we have talked a lot about the discipline itself, but one thing that I would love to hear your feelings on is what we feel after it is all over. I always have found this to be a very personal and introspective time. Quite frankly, if I was in the corner I really wasn’t feeling much of anything outside of the throbbing in my butt and trying to get myself composed again. If I really felt anything, it was pity for myself and in some senses a real relief, both physical and mental, that it was all over.

When I finally was able to get back to my room the first thing I always did was check the “damage” to my backside. I had a full length mirror on the back of my door and I would bend over and look at my bruised backside in the mirror. I always wanted to rub some cream or something on it, but I knew that I would get in big trouble for that. My sister once put sunburn cream on her backside and when my mother smelled it she scrubbed it off with a bath brush and gave her second spanking on her already sore and wet bottom.

Generally, I would lie on my bed on my tummy with my head buried in my pillow, occasionally sobbing. I would go through a period of hating my mother for spanking me. I mean, how could she so totally bruise my backside if she loved me? Doesn’t she know that it hurts (and hurts like heck)! As my bottom throbbed, I would then start to remember her lecture. When I was standing there half naked, all I really heard from her was blah blah blah, and I would be thinking to myself, “God woman, can’t you just spank me and get it over with?”

But when I was back in my room, I would remember everything that she said and think about it. And basically over a period of time, I would come to the realisation that she was right. If I would have just done what she said or whatever, I wouldn’t be in the position of laying on my bed on my tummy with deep red butt sticking up in the air would I? That would most likely start me sobbing again because I was so stupid to get into trouble in the first place and I would go through a period of really feeling sorry for myself.

At some point I would fall asleep. I found my discipline to be mentally and physically draining. When I woke up I would check my backside again, as if some miracle had occurred to make it all go away, but I usually would have a sore backside for about a day or perhaps a little longer and would have some bruising for about a week.

One thing I have to give my mother credit for is that after it was all over she really tried to make sure I got back on track. I was terrible at getting my assignments in on time and that would result in swats at school and the hairbrush when I got home. But after I survived it all, she would make me sit down and make a schedule of what I needed to do and when I needed to do it and she would monitor it for a while. The problem was that when she left me off to my own for a while, I would drift back into delaying things end up with a sore backside again. Anyway, don’t know if any of this makes sense, but wanted to give it a try.

Carol1940 wrote:

I am surprised that still goes on. My college days date back to 1960 when we still had to write home at least once a week and show our reports to our parents. In those days we were even spanked by our housemothers.

I was once spanked by my housemother for leaving the dorm without my gloves. She always spanked over the knee on our bare bottoms with a hairbrush until we hollered for shame. On that occasion I had to stand in the corner so long that I missed my date anyway, and all over a pair of gloves.

Another time I was out past curfew with a boy and got my behind blistered so hard that I couldn’t sit down for days.

When my mother asked me if I had been spanked that semester I didn’t lie, but I only told her about the gloves.

“Yes and I bet you sassed her as well,” was my mother’s verdict.

She spanked me cross-eyed but the worst part was being sent to the corner with my behind hanging in the breeze at 20-years-old. My sister came home from high school and told the world. I was teased for years after.

Then mom saw the report letter that didn’t mention the gloves but did say I had been with boys after curfew.

My mother spanked me long, long and hard after washing my mouth out with soap and little sister saw it all. Worst still when my father found out I got an excruciating lecture about my reputation until I was so ashamed that I practically asked for another good whaling form him.

The ‘woodshed’ was more of a lean-to out back and I am sure half the neighbourhood heard us. Not that I cared at the time, five minutes of dad’s belt and I was one sorry girl I can tell you.

I was also grounded for a month with corner time and chores for most of the first week.

That wasn’t my last spanking, it wasn’t even my last spanking that vacation, but I guess you get the picture. But I do agree the firm hand did me no harm in the end and my dad was right about my reputation.

Sometime ago I was told that there was a spanking tradition at rodeos that dated back at least to the 1930s. Apparently rodeo clowns would select a pretty girl from the audience and give them an impromptu public spanking.

Mostly this was for fun, but depending on what part of the country (in the US) it was, then the amount of roughhousing varied.

I was told that sometimes these clowns (or sometimes cowboys) were bribed to get some payback and maybe then these spankings might be given more in earnest. But I can’t imagine that even if this was true it would be all that common.

I don’t know much more about this other than what I have seen in the movies, where a slap-stick is usually used and rarely on women. I think their maybe a brief scene to this effect in a Clint Eastwood movie, but I may misremember.

Anyway, I have never been able to find out any more about this custom until I chanced on the above picture which comes from an Americana memorabilia website that had a section on rodeo. The girl doesn’t look too distressed, maybe because she drew cowboys and not clowns.

In the wake of the college spanking post I heard from Linda. She is in her 30s and now married. She sent in this personal account.

In her own words she says: “time might have polished my memory of these events and better shaped them for style. And some events may have happened out of sequence, but essentially this is a true story. I have been a reader for some time and particularly like your stories. Oddly enough I was motivated to write after I read about (and read) Lizzie Baines, but it was the Zen thing and then the college accounts that finally pushed me into doing so.”

*

I think it is relevant to say I am adopted. I was a late adoptee (almost 13) and for a long time I never felt I was really theirs. For the record my parents were and are great and I owe them so much but it wasn’t until I met Ben and his mother and sister that I really understood family or appreciated my own. Not that this is a story of normal family life, anything but, I would say, and I definitely wouldn’t champion or evangelise this as a lifestyle. But it all worked out for me.

I was not yet 20 when I met Ben at college and I didn’t meet his mother and sister until Christmas of my second year. But things didn’t really get interesting until Easter.

Ben was 22 by then and his sister Tamsin is my age give or take. His father had died four years before and I gather things had been pretty difficult, which was why Ben was still at college.

Helen, Ben’s mother, is witty and when I first met her I thought she was too young and glamorous to be a mum. In fact I was fairly intimidated by all of them, they seemed so together. Tamsin in particular was very mature and made me feel quite gauche.

To start with, it seemed that Tamsin could do what she liked and always came home late having been drinking without the least raised eyebrow from Helen. My own mother would have done her nut if I had just done half the stuff Tamsin was doing. But then, as I said, Tamsin was very mature and always seemed sensible.

The weekend after Easter Helen was put out on Sunday morning because Tamsin hadn’t come home the night before after borrowing the car. It was the first time I noticed the least displeasure displayed by Helen towards her daughter.

Even then Tamsin had phoned to explain the night before.

It turned out that Tamsin had drunk too much and could not drive home, which was sensible and at first pleased Helen. But later that day after Helen came home they talked again and then Helen had asked how Tamsin had got the car back so early that morning.

The atmosphere changed immediately. The usually bright and confident Tamsin became closed-mouth and evasive until Helen showed her hard side.

My first hint that something was going to happen was when Ben said, “Uh-oh its crazy time.”

He looked really uncomfortable, embarrassed even.

It turned out that Tamsin had driven more than 10 miles from wherever she had been before deciding she was too drunk to drive.

Helen gave out a huge sigh of disappointment and folded her arms. I remember her body language was scary.

Then she said, “Young lady, you know what happens now.”

Tamsin suddenly looked her age and went red in the face and squirmed about on the settee. Up until then she had been really kind and friendly towards me, but now she was looking at me with irritation like I was unwelcome or an intruder even.

“I’m sorry Mum, look can’t we…” she started to mumble and kept looking at me.

Helen said in a cross but reasonable voice, “But we talked about this. We agreed didn’t we? Don’t make it worse for yourself,” that kind of thing. Then she said, “Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”

Tamsin glared at me and got a bit stroppy. Then she got up and stormed out of the room and up the stairs to her room.

I looked at Ben who looked really uptight.

He said, “Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just something Mum and Tam worked out after Dad died. I told you things were crazy back then.”

I waited until Helen followed Tamsin up the stairs and then curiosity got the better of me and I went after her. She saw me on the stairs, but didn’t say anything and went into Tamsin’s room.

In the house is a sort of open area at the top of the stairs that has two soft seats and bookshelves. It wasn’t unusual for me to sit there reading while I waited to use the bathroom or just to put some distance between me and the family. I guess I thought I was being casual, but I grabbed a book and sat down.

In her room Tamsin was obviously being told off and it didn’t sound like she was answering back much. Then there was dull clap sound followed by another. It took me a moment to get what was happening and by then Tamsin had started yelling.

I couldn’t believe that Tamsin was getting a spanking, but at the same time I realised that part of me had already guessed. I was shocked, embarrassed and sort of excited.

The slap-cracking sound went on for ages. I remember thinking it would stop any moment, but it didn’t. The swats were regular and quite fast, maybe one every second or two. No slower than that. Tamsin didn’t yell all the way through, but sometimes she made muffled groaning sounds like she was trying to keep quite. Then after a while she started apologising and I could tell she was crying.

Once it stopped I could hear Helen talking in a quiet voice for little while. When the door finally opened Helen came out with a man’s slipper in her hand, but didn’t come out with it. She tossed back inside before leaving. I remember thinking that it must be kept there for that purpose and how did Tamsin feel about that.

Helen looked at me and sort of smiled, but didn’t say anything before she went back down stairs.

I pretended to read a book while I listened to Tamsin crying. I don’t know what I expected, but I wanted to be a part of it somehow.  I wanted to know more. I wanted to ask Tamsin about it.

Tamsin cried for a while and then it went quiet and then a bit later the door opened and Tamsin came out. I remember she was wearing a really short stripy shirt that she usually wore to bed. Only normally she would wear some baggy shorts with it. Maybe she didn’t expect to see me there or maybe she was past caring. But as she came out she glared at me and then went passed me into the bathroom.

I could see the tops of her thighs and lower part of her bottom as she disappeared and they were very red and swollen.

When she came out she said “Go away” and something that might have been swearing.

I didn’t hear but instead of taking the hint I asked what she had said.

She screamed at me, “Get lost can’t you,” but in a really angry way.

Helen came up the stairs in a hurry and went straight back into Tamsin’s room.

There was a short burst of spanking and Helen said something under her breath in an angry voice. Then Tamsin was practically frog-marched on to the landing.

“Sorry,” she said in a really miserable voice so that Helen smacked her on the bum.

So in a slightly softer voice she said sorry again.

Then Helen clamped her by the back of the neck and turned her about so that she was facing the wall outside her room, then she left her there.

I could see Tamsin’s red bottom under shirt and I knew that she was really embarrassed, but I wanted to make sense of it all so I stayed there pretending to read.

Tamsin cried for a bit and then seemed to settle down. She was there for ages. So long that she kept adjusting the weight on her hip and leaning against the wall. Eventually I went to watch some TV, but the atmosphere was a bit frosty and I went to bed shortly after Tamsin was allowed to.

The next day Tamsin came to see me.

She was really friendly and apologised for her attitude saying she understood why I was curious and that I must think they are crazy. We chatted for ages and although Tamsin was reluctant to say much, she told me that spanking was something that she and Helen had worked out between them in recent years to clear the air.

I was still dying to know more about it and listened out for every hint or clue about it, but Helen just smiled at me when I asked and said maybe she would explain one day.

Ben was no help. All he could say was that it was how his Mum had been brought up and it had never happened while his Dad was alive. He called it the craziness and said he stayed out of the way.

I was there a lot after that, every holiday and some weekends. I don’t think Tamsin was spanked very much, although occasionally I got a sense that she may have been just before I arrived. That I know of, during the rest of her time I went to visit she was spanked at total of three more times.

Once I stayed downstairs and another time I came back from shopping and went to show Tamsin what I had bought only to find her teary-eyed and in her night clothes on her bed. She even showed me her sore bottom, but I got the idea she didn’t want me to stick around.

There was one other time when Ben was out that I went to listen outside the door and found it ajar. I noticed that I could watch most of the spanking through the crack in the door jam. Although all I saw really was that Tamsin’s bottom was bare and over Helen’s lap and she was indeed spanked with a slipper. I couldn’t see either of their faces.

I was embarrassed when Helen came out and caught me watching, but like before she just gave a half smile and shrugged.

The only other fact I gleaned from Tamsin at the time was that she sometimes had to stand and face the wall after a spanking like the first time I saw her, only she did it downstairs.

As I said that was pretty much all there was to it as far as Tamsin was concerned until much later. But it didn’t stop my interest in what had happened and I spent a lot of time looking up spanking at the library and the internet for any references. As you can imagine I found a lot.

About 18 months later Ben and I were pretty much a definite item and started talking about getting married. He had a job and I went to live with his Mum and sister, both of whom I really got on with by then.

I think it was a big strain for Helen sometimes to have another adult daughter in the house, especially as Tamsin was usually away with her boyfriend for days at a time. And I was not really used to that kind of home life either.

After a couple of rows Helen and I had a talk about things. That’s when I saw an opportunity to ask about the spanking.

Helen told me that after a really tough time when Tamsin had really gone into melt down and done stuff which Helen wouldn’t tell me about, Tamsin had asked for some sort of help. The subject of Helen’s own upbringing had been raised and somehow the spanking agreement had come from that. Although Helen admitted that the first time had been more spontaneous and done out of frustration. But afterwards Tamsin said it had helped and she felt better.

I remember squirming and blushing my head off but I asked Helen if she thought it would help me.

Helen laughed and said she bet it would. But she thought I was joking.

“Maybe you should, spank me I mean,” I said, God it was awful.

Helen said, “I think Ben finds the whole thing a bit uncomfortable. I am not sure it is such a good idea.”

I said that she had already admitted that it would do me good and pointed out that it had worked well for her and Tamsin. She only said she would think about it.

It might have ended at that as there was no way I would ever find the courage to ask about it again, but about three weeks later I went to a party with some friends.

Ben and Tamsin weren’t around and I got carried away. I spent most of the next morning throwing up in the bathroom while Helen phoned the various credit card people for me because I had lost my bag.

That afternoon Helen came to my room and said, “You know maybe what we talked about would help. I am pretty mad with you and you’re still moping up here. Maybe it would clear the air a bit.”

I was all tingling and felt sick like I was before my finals.

“Maybe,” I said.

“It’s not an easy thing and once I start I’ll go through with it,” she said.

I nodded and she told me to get ready for bed.

I put on one of Ben’s t-shirts and waited until Helen came. I saw at once that she had the slipper in her hand, although as it turned out it was the left one from under the stairs. Tamsin had the right one in her room as a reminder and Helen wanted to leave it there. But I didn’t know this at the time, not until afterwards.

Helen gave me an expert telling-off and I was pretty close tears and genuinely sorry when she was done. I think this really helped put me in the right frame of mind.

It was strange and awkward going over Helen’s lap and I was really more embarrassed than I thought I would be when she pulled up the back of my t-shirt. Not that it covered much as I was also to find out.

The first spank was much harder than I expected and I started struggling and making a noise almost at once, but as promised Helen didn’t stop.

I have to say that it always seemed like such a long time when I heard Tamsin’s spankings, but to be on the receiving end myself was far worse and it felt like hours went by.

I was a sobbing mess by the time Helen stopped.

Then Helen said, “Now I am going to handle you as I was handled, I think you need it more than Tamsin does. I know Ben’s not here so it won’t matter but if Tamsin comes home I don’t want any fuss.”

I didn’t know what she meant but I didn’t argue.

Helen then made me come down stairs just as I was and stand and face the lounge wall with my hands on my head. With my bum showing and having been thoroughly spanked I was as meek as mush. I stood there for most of the evening, although I was eventually allowed to put my arms down. Then I was sent to bed like a kid.

I looked at my bum in the mirror and it was still very red with mauve splotches on the underside. I also saw that Helen had left the slipper on the floor as a future warning. I put it on my dressing table where I could see it. It only prompted a very brief comment from Ben about me “starting with that craziness.”

Tamsin thought it was really cool so when Helen asked me if we should resolve stuff that way I said we should and thanked her.

Between then and until about a year after we married when Ben and I got our own place I was spanked about a dozen times. Ben was only there once, which wasn’t an accident I think, but Tamsin saw me spanked and my time facing the wall about half of those times.

The main difference between my spankings and Tamsin’s was that I always had to come down stairs and face the wall for a good while. But in any case Tamsin must have only been spanked two or three times while I was living there anyway.

Ben has never asked much about it and although he knows I look at spanking blogs he doesn’t get involved much beyond the occasional spanking for fun thing. I have only been spanked once by Helen since we moved out and that was really soon afterwards.

It would be way too embarrassing now and I don’t think Helen would anyway. But I often think about it. Anyway, sorry to go on but I just wanted to ‘clear the air’ as Helen would say.

Bikers, motorcycle clubs and the whole female submission thing is something that I have come across off and on for years. It has always fascinated me, but at the same time the open sexism, occasional misogyny and even criminality has tempered my erotic curiosity somewhat.

Now it is important to stress that not all bikers (or even most) are sexist, misogynistic criminals. Nor do I believe do most motorcycle clubs endorse such lifestyles. Most countryside cafés (in the UK anyway) are overladen with often overweight bearded gentlemen and their fair ladies who are just weekend bikers with taxpaying jobs.

But these gentlefolks, (sorry guys) are not the ones that interest most people.

In 1947 the American Motorcyclist Association described 99 per cent of all bikers as being law-abiding citizens. Hence implying that one per cent of them were not and ever since some clubs on the fringes of society have often described themselves as ‘One Percenters.’

During my youth in the semi-rural English Home Counties (the populated rich bit that surrounds London) I had the fascinating if dubious honour of working with a biker from one of the more ‘adventurous’ chapters of a famous US-based motorcycle club. He had been given the choice of ‘get or job or go to gaol.’

Now these guys were often in prison a lot and not just for not paying their speeding fines.

They tended to colonise certain country pubs, the kind your Dad did not turn a blind eye to you visiting, but which were perfectly safe if you watched your Ps and Qs. Safer in fact than many town pubs full of Muppets looking for a fight.

I stumbled across my work mate in a Cider House on the Straight Mile. He was surrounded by big hairy blokes all at least 10 years older than me and all with at least two presentable girls each – if you overlooked the tattoos.

These were ‘maybe don’t look and definitely don’t touch sort’ of lassies. So we didn’t.

He acknowledged me with the sort cool nod that came right out of the movies and then made it clear that I shouldn’t join him by looking away. So I didn’t.

But I did have tacit approval to hang in the ‘club house’ rather than the ‘civilian’ lounge bar and check out the bikers without (much) fear of provoking an unwelcome response.

This was not quite Sons of Anarchy territory (not quite), but the clubs usual boss was serving at Her Majesty’s pleasure for murdering a rival club member. So it was probably more dangerous than I then realised.

‘My friend’ had already told me that during ‘meets’ girls were queuing up to be selected as temporary or second girlfriends for the guys. These were Gothic-haired creatures with jeans cut down to thongs and all curves, the kind of lady who turns a 17-year-old’s brain to mush.

I had been given some biker magazines that read more like porn than mechanics. They were full of letters and short stories that featured submissive women who got spanked. I mean more than one reference per magazine and more than one magazine.

I had trolled dozens of men’s magazines for just one spanking story before then.

I came across a girl who told a story about being ‘Owned and Operated’ by her man. It was the heading on a long letter where she expressed her ‘pride’ at having a man who knew how to handle her and admitted that she was spanked, belted and sometimes whipped by him. She even said that her and other biker’s girls traded stories and compared welts. Taking pride in how had the sorest behind.

The woman in the story had had ‘owned and operated’ tattooed down the crack of her arse ending at her anus with arrows pointing the way.

Whilst in this pub I saw a woman (maybe 30-years-old) who had this legend tattooed down her thigh. Of course all sorts of things were ignited in my brain; these were real girls. I had to ask.

The next day at work the biker told me that it was a term used by wives and permanent girlfriends. No other girl would dare have it with being entitled, so of course it was a source of pride.

I asked about the punishments. I was a bit coy about the S-word back then. After that there was some tension and I thought I had overstepped the mark somewhat. Then he realised I wasn’t interested in club activities as such.

“You mean when they get their arses tanned?” He thought I might mean something else more sinister.

He laughed and said that was just par for the course and all girls got that when they needed it.

I wish I could say that I was invited to a biker party where all the girls were spanked, but shortly afterwards he was sacked and I sussed that there were better places to hang out.

But some years later I was watching a late night documentary about American bikers and they interviewed a woman who had an Owned and Operated tattoo on her belly extended down and out of sight. She obliged the camera by showing most of it and then explained to the journalist what it meant.

She too used the word pride and explained that her home life was no different to nay one else’s. She talked about the virtues of domestic discipline and spanking as a tool for a happy life.

“And it can be sexy too sometimes,” she grinned.

I have no idea to this day whether this is a genuine universal custom or a random coincidence that plays upon the general preconceptions and prejudices around motorcycle clubs. But since then I have heard other stories about legal clubs and spanking, with initiations for girls and hints of spanking discipline. Sadly I have no further insight on this.

Incidentally the pictures above are genuine period biker pictures that display the defiant nature and alternative lifestyles of some bikers. You will note the tread marks and bruises on the bottom of the girl in the second photograph.

TipTopper sent in the above picture and it put me in mind of a couple of related, but unconnected snippets I had.

This was culled from a 1920s education review that I found on Google Reader some time ago.

Catherine C wrote:

“…An education revolution it has been said, but I can tell you our training was well grounded in the old world. Miss Marion P and I were well used to feeling the sting of a cane across our behinds in training college. However, I did not expect to be summoned to Mr Neville’s office to be dressed down over our leisure time activities. He even showed us the cane and reminded us that as we were not yet qualified awe were still subject to student discipline.”

One wonders if Marion and Catherine were ever caned as student teachers.

This next excerpt came from FemFirst.

Gwen wrote:

“In my early days as a teacher I was still living at home. This had its advantages and without the financial support I could never have afforded a car for instance. But it is strange to think that while I was writing out punishment slips for the Dean my own bottom often still smarted from a spanking I had gotten the night before. On one occasion I was in such discomfort that not only could I not sit down, but I was certain that some of the most observant of my class suspected the cause of my embarrassment.”

This article first appeared in Russian in The Siberian Times.

New method for addiction at a clinic in Russia

In the depths of Siberia, scientists claim to have discovered a revolutionary method of recovery from alcohol, dope and other addictions. Even workaholics or sex addict could be helped by the new method.

Most are shocked when they hear that the treatment applied by doctors and German Pilipenko Marina Chukhrova, includes a “wooden” rod. Just like the old masters this duo of experts, are swinging a stick across the bare bottoms of their patients.

“This is for purely medical purposes and is not some sadomasochistic game,” Ms Marina Chukhrova said in an interview.

The method appears to be based on scientific principles. The two scientists claim that the lack of endorphins, also known as the “hormone of happiness” is the main reason why their patients, most of them addicted to drugs, suffer. The two psychologists argue pain causes an increase in endorphin production.

“The controlled exposure to pain, addresses the lack of enthusiasm and interest in life, often hiding behind alcohol or dope. But that’s not all, the increase of endorphins through the pain can change the lives of people who have suicidal tendencies, depression or other psychosomatic disorders,” says Dr German Pilipenko.

This was demonstrated to journalists when young patient Natasha took 60 strokes across her bare bottom, which she does every time she meets with Dr German Pilipenko for treatment. (Pictured above)

“Every beating howl and clench of the bed is acute pain. My body is electrified by the shock and it is a really unpleasant experience. But after each session, I can see beneficial results. The pain helps me to understand the risks they expose myself,” the 22-year old Natasha told reporters.

From an early age she was addicted to drugs and hopes that this treatment will succeed where others have failed.

The revolutionary method of Pilipenko and Chukhrova, has sparked mixed reactions. Whilst some psychologists have accused them of charlatanism, there is answering testimony of the patients themselves, who declare publicly, that their pain saved their life.

The fact remains that thousands of patients from all over Russia, but also from abroad, eager to taste the painful and controversial this treatment modalities.

Having had several real life domestic accounts about young adults and college girls it occurred to me that there must be many, many more relationship accounts out there. So in a rare idle moment I ran some searches and checked out the usual suspects and found some.

What follows is the best of a selection chanced upon on Voy, EP and Fem1st.

Danielle wrote:

About what HKM said about spanking within marriage and being outted in a DD relationship or not. I think it is your own business.

I met my partner at a health spa on the South Coast. I had been sent there by my then current boyfriend as a treat and I think in an attempt to keep me. But I hadn’t been serious about him and the main attraction had been the spoiling and the escape from chattering boys (he was much older than me). I had always been drawn to older men but in those days didn’t know why.

John was also quite a bit older than me, although in much better shape than the guy I realised I was dumping.

We hit it off at once and I was absolutely captivated by his honesty. He told me right off he liked his women in their place and had no time for women’s equality, even if it was fair.

I told him that I didn’t believe in going Dutch, so what did I care.

“A bit of a spoilt bitch are you?” he teased or half-teased. “I would love to give you a good sound spanking on your bare bottom.”

Men had said that to me before. Apparently I have the arse for it. I laughed and maybe I said, “What else is new?”

He became serious and said it was no laughing matter and that I could definitely stand being taken in hand.

“If I spanked you it would hurt and you would do what you were told,” he said.

It scared me, but not enough to put me off. So when he called me a week later we went on a date.

Out of mischief I complained about the wine and sent it back and when I got my own way I played up like that all night. My recent ex had been amused by the game and had always paid the bill.

John didn’t say a word but when we got back to his place he told me he could call a cab and go or stay and see what happened. He was quite cross so I guessed what was coming, but I opted to stay.

He put me over his knee and bared my bottom quickly. Then as I expected he gave me a very smart spanking. It hurt more than I expected, but I thought it was fair enough. Then he sent me to the bathroom to fetch his bath brush.

“You can’t, it will bruise,” I told him.

He shrugged and told me it wasn’t a game and he could still call me a cab.

I apologised about my behaviour and asked to stay. Needless to say it didn’t get me out of a spanking.

The main event hurt worse than anything and I bawled like a kid all the way through. I was right, it did bruise and for days and days. And after he made go and stand in the corner in the nude.

The sex was great, but he played too rough for me, or so I thought but a dozen spankings later and half again as many dates I moved in.

I loved the way he stood up to me, but the spankings and other punishments were real. If I wasn’t a good girl, I got spanked and properly. He also loved giving me corner time, which was really embarrassing. It got so I really tried to behave.

Once or twice he sent me to the corner when friends were there. Nothing was said but they must have guessed I would be spanked once they were gone.

Finally a friend told me it was wrong and I should leave him. So after asking another friend, who agreed, I went home to my step-mother and told her everything.

Instead of support, Mum was absolutely furious. She said I was like a leaf in the wind and gave up on things too much. She told me that if I didn’t want a spanking from him, then I should not put up with it, but that if I didn’t mind then it was my own business and not my girlfriends who were probably jealous.

That night John phoned and sort of said the same thing. He told me he loved me and although it would be an issue, we could talk about it and maybe work something out. He was also genuinely concerned if I had felt at all coerced.

I had a good hard think about it and felt absolutely sick. I really had been a spoilt brat when he met me and I could not imagine life without him. It was odd, but when I was told off by Mum I felt my bottom clench like I would be spanked and it felt right.

I wrote a long note of apology and told John that any punishment he decided on was absolutely deserved. I didn’t say so but in my head I thought of a party where everyone came to see me spanked like a naughty girl.

Then when I got home I left the note on the table and dressed in only a top and put myself in the corner. I even drew back the curtains and made it really obvious.

I was there a long time before John got home and read the note.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I told him I was and when he said we should be more discreet, but I said we should be less discreet and that I was proud of being put in my place when I needed it. I also said I was really, really sorry.

The spanking I got was the worst ever and I could hardly sit down afterwards. I also had to go to the corner for a good cry. That was all I got for running away even though I asked for more.

But any discretion was over after that. It was so embarrassing doing bare bottom corner time in front of male and female friends and even my Mum and sister. But I absolutely never regretted it, well except maybe occasionally at the time.

So I say if it is right for you then work it out for yourself.

Tammy wrote:

I got my first ever proper adult spanking on a picnic. It started as a play fight. It was fairly intense and afterwards we made out with some heavy petting. In those days you didn’t have sex unless you were serious, but a spanking was something else. I was so embarrassed but kind of excited. I had hand sized marks on my bottom for days.

Nothing happened after that. Not even when we got engaged. But I did used to fantasise about it.

Then one day we had an argument as couples do. It was bad and I knew it was my fault.

Then the day after and we still had not made up I went for a walk. There was a paddle in a hardware store window with some joke words on it: ‘Family Attitude Adjuster’ and cartoon picture of a house wife bending over.

I waited until the male assistant went out back and then asked the woman behind the counter if the paddle worked or was it just a light ornamental piece that would break.

She took me seriously and asked me what I had in mind. I don’t know why, but I told her everything and she did not blink and we tested it out on our hands and some cushions.

Taking the paddle home I told Brian I was sorry and gave it him. His mother was there, so it was a bit embarrassing, but after a quiet word she went into the front room and I went into the wash house out back.

I decided to bare my own bottom and he told me to bend over an old washer.

It was a hard spanking as he really put it to me, but it cleared the air and we agreed to use it from then on.

The words and drawing got a bit worn over the years but in 1978 I gave it to my daughter, who as far as I know had it used on her own bare bottom right up until her own daughter wed.

I don’t know if it is still used but my granddaughter still has it hanging in the den of her house. Maybe it would not happen these days, but I love to think of it polishing bare bottoms in our family for generations to come.

Cassie D wrote:

I had had affairs with women before I got married so it was not that strange that I started again after my divorce. But mainly I threw myself into my realty work. I hadn’t up until then considered myself a lesbian and just assumed I would find another guy and do the happy family thing.

Then I met Wendy. She was older than me and totally in your face. We hit it off at once after she came looking at some property I had for viewing.

We had a couple of dates and then she didn’t call for a while. She was the first woman I had missed after.

Anyway a couple of weeks later she calls me about a property she wanted to see and suggested we combine it with dinner. I was a bit huffy with her on the phone but business was business. But I did turn up late for the viewing to make a point.

She was pissed at me and bawled me out.

I didn’t keep my cool and let her have it about not calling.

“I have been out of the country, I had a sudden deal, I called you,” she said angrily.

There had been one message, but it had been a bad line and I had deleted it without really listening.

“What you need little girl is a good sound spanking on your bare bottom,” she said or something like.

I don’t know how but a moment later I was face down over her knee with my suit pants and panties at my ankles getting my butt blistered. It must have been good and red before she asked, “You want to see me again or not?”

“Can we?” I said meekly, I was crying and totally jello over her lap.

She said fine but that I had to learn my manners first. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a hand brush. She gave me another very sound spanking and did not let up until I was a mess.

Later at dinner at her place I had to kneel on a stool, but it was the best night ever.

She didn’t buy that place but we bought another. At the viewing she spanked me again over and over for no reason other than to let me know who was boss. Between spankings I had to cool down in just about every corner in the house.

I was still there, mercifully just out of sight, when my colleague came to see how we liked it.

My bruised behind still graces some of those corners.

This unusual snippet was sent in by Karl Gauss so many thanks to him.

The women soldiers pictured above got in some seriously hot water after posing semi-naked and posting the pictures on the Internet.

As the New York Post reported:

Israeli military officials did not divulge the exact nature of the punishment they face but blasted their lack of professionalism stating, “The commanding officers disciplined the soldiers as they saw fitting,” the army said in a statement.

 In an effort to encourage female conscripts to stop stripping, the military instituted a series of lectures that stressed the importance of staying clothed while on duty.

 Apparently the lectures had little effect on the women because the group published three more photos after they were disciplined. In the new pictures, the women are seen wearing very skimpy underwear while they cover their breasts with rifles…. (second picture top)

Interestingly there appears to be some welt marks on the bottom of the girl in the first picture. Maybe she had been in trouble before and the commanding officer punished her as he or she “saw fitting” that time too.

Last Saturday and almost unnoticed this blog published its 1,000^th post. A quick calculation suggests that there have been around two million words and almost seven million visits.

Since I had nothing better to post I thought I would pause to consider that for a moment.

Above a few pictures previous published here.

The spanking blog war is still ramping it up it seems. The main targets seem to be monetised blogs or blogs promoting pay-sites. Some will be able to adjust; others are having their rasion d’etre undermined. Also I noticed that Warmglow has bitten the dust without explanation. That as far as I knew was the often vanilla and largely random insights of an individual with fairly modest and un-graphic illustrations. It is hard to see how this fitted the profile of a monetised blog or pornographic site.

Many blogs are moving host and going semi-pro to remain amateur (which is, shall we say, interesting). That is people are paying out for pro-sites and domains in order to reduce scrutiny. That means people are being generous with their money and not just their time.

A couple of concerned people have asked what they can do to help. Well probably very little but batten down the hatches and see who survives. Although you might buy e-books where sold from people running such blogs to help cover the costs. But that is up to you.

You can read more at the Spanking Blog and All Things Spanking.

It is not all doom and gloom. Only this week a new blog has been added to the blog roll. Acknowledging Imperfection is the exploration of TTTWD by a 20-something relative newcomer Kia.

She is not only new blogger. Bonnie has another list at My Bottom Smarts.

The pictures above are from All Things Spanking, Devlin O’Neil, Blossom & Thorn and Less Than Three.

Some of you can never get enough ‘never too old stories’ so here are a few allegedly true accounts from the EP.

Anon wrote:

I received my last spanking from my mother when I was 19. I got a speeding ticket in a school zone and didn’t have the money to pay it as a I was a poor college kid and had no choice but to ask my mother for help. She was furious about my irresponsible driving and told me that she was going to spank me. I argued and told her that I was too old to be spanked but she insisted that as long I was under her roof that I would be disciplined the way she saw fit. She took me by the arm and led me upstairs to her bedroom where she sat down in the high back chair that she always sat in to spank me as a child. Then she reached for my arm and pulled me over her lap. She then proceeded to lift my skirt and pull down my panties. She spanked my bare bottom with her hand and then picked up her hairbrush from the table beside her. I squalled like a little kid but I never sped again! My mother and I are very close and I have recently moved back in with her as I am now going through a divorce. I am certain that she would not hesitate to turn me over her knee and spank my bare bottom even today if she felt it necessary.

Another anon wrote

I have a daughter from my first husband. She is now married. I have helped care for and support a few of my nieces, including helping them in college.  Currently I am supporting a niece who is 18 years old.  She does not live with us, but does live here in town by me in an apartment our whole family (extended family) has had for years for kids going to school to be able to use.

I do think that spankings are a valid and useful discipline option for girls these ages.  My experience with my daughter, stepdaughter, and nieces, and my own experiences growing up, has convinced me that girls do not suddenly, magically become adults because of a birthday.  I hope not to offend anyone around the ages of 18-22 or so reading this, but I don’t think someone really starts to be an adult until around 25 or so.  And girls in the 18-22 range, especially 18-19, can be surprisingly immature and make poor choices.  Even pretty responsible girls can have this problem sometimes.  My niece and stepdaughter are still subject to the same kind of over the knee, bare butt spankings I used with my daughter until she was 22, and that I sometimes got until I was 19 by the stepmom and aunt who helped raise me.

It is not always aunts and mothers who do the spanking

SS wrote:

I can’t believe I’m writing this.

As you can see from my photo, I’m a girl in my 20′s. I was married to a lovely guy who was always away on business. I was bored and basically, I started cheating on him. And my father-in-law found out.

While my husband was away on business, my father-in-law came around to the house. He confronted me with the evidence ie photos. He said he was going to tell my husband and the marriage would be over. I was petrified of losing my nice home with the swimming pool, boat, etc. I begged him not to. I pleaded with him. Finally, he agreed not to. But on the condition that he treats me as though I was his daughter. And give me a severe spanking.

I won’t go into detail here. You can message me and I’ll tell you. But basically he put me across his knee and spanked me really hard. He pulled my dress up. And my panties down. As you can imagine, it was extremely humiliating.

But he kept his word.

Anon3 wrote

I’m 19, I’m in college , I live at home, and I still get spanked. A lot.

It started my freshman year of college. I had been home schooled growing up and even though I had a lot of friends I never had a whole lot of freedom. So going to college was a big deal, especially because I joined a sorority right away and got to live on campus. It was the most fun I had ever had.

The problems started with a boy. I won’t say his name but he was a couple years older than me and really dreamy. I think I would have done anything for him.

It’s a long story but I ended up going with him to New York over thanksgiving break after I told my parents it was a sorority trip. And I stopped going to class. And I was on birth control because we started sleeping together after just a few months. And I was drinking a whole, whole lot.

Anyway, I got caught drunk and underage with him at a party I wasn’t supposed to be at. When my parents came to pick me up, they found everything out. It was awful. They found my birth control prescription and pictures from New York and a bunch of other stuff. I have never seen them so mad. After I got home daddy announced that he was going to pull me out of college and take away my car and computer and phone. I begged and begged him but he wouldn’t budge.

I asked Daddy to just start spanking me again instead of pulling me out of college. I’ll never forget the look on his face; he told me he would think about it and left the room.

It seemed like hours before he came back, even though it was probably only a few minutes. He said that he’d made his decision. That I would receive a whipping that night no matter what and that I would be moving back home with them, but that the next thing was up to me. I still remember the options so clearly.

“If you want, this spanking will be the only one you get. We will pull you out of college tomorrow.

“Your next option is to get spanked tonight and once a week for the next month. You can stay in school but you will lose your car and computer and phone for a month. We will continue to spank you any time we feel it is necessary as long as you live in our home.

“Your final option is to receive a spanking every night this week. You can stay in school, and you will get your phone and computer and car back at the end of this week. You will continue to be spanked whenever necessary as long as you live here.”

Then he told me to change into pyjamas and get ready for my spanking that night. He said I could make my choice the next morning.

That’s when it started again.

This another account by a Christian Girl

My parents are very strict. I was raised in a Christian household where the rod was never spared, and my parents made it clear to me when I returned home at 22 (I just turned 23) that I would still be spanked for misbehaviour. At the time, I didn’t worry about it — I’m an adult now and much less likely to do stupid things that would get me spanked, plus I couldn’t imagine it would be as scary as my spankings when I was younger. Boy was I wrong. The spankings I have had, both from Mom and Dad, since I moved home last year have been way worse than anything I got when I was younger. Since they expect more from me, I’m punished more severely when I mess up. And for a repeat mess up, like missing curfew or drinking, it is way worse. Also, since my siblings no longer live at home and it’s just me, Mom and Dad, I often get spanked in the living room in front of both of them, which is embarrassing.

Tonight, I missed curfew and had a bit to drink. I hadn’t even closed the door behind me when Dad took off his belt and told me to get my pants down. He put me over the back of the couch and whipped my bare bottom until I was yowling with pain. Mom just sat there in her chair, arms crossed, looking smug, like I was getting just what I deserved and like she enjoyed watching me get punished. I wanted to slap the satisfied look off of her face and now I’m going to struggle with being respectful to her, which is another reason I get spanked. When it was over, I couldn’t even get my pants back up over my swollen bottom. I had to take them all the way off just so I could get to my room, sobbing and sniffling. It hurts so bad right now, and tomorrow is church which means sitting on hard pews and my dad will probably mention what I did to my pastor. I’m ashamed to get called in to see pastor, especially since he’ll know that I was drinking and that I was spanked.

I’m laying here feeling sorry for myself and really and truly hating the fact that I still get spanked. Most of the time it seems a small price to pay to live here and have my parents support me through school, but right after a spanking, I would agree to be homeless in order to avoid another one. It hurts so bad I can’t sleep. I’m on my tummy, using my laptop.

Marie1986 wrote:

I disagree with Clive, I know I was occasionally spanked until well into college, so big girls are spanked. But what I want to know has anyone ever been spanked by someone other than a family member or boyfriend?

After college my best friend Kate and I moved to the Big Apple after securing jobs at the same company. Neither of us were prepared for how expensive rents were, even when we planned to share a room if necessary. Luckily, Kate’s older sister already had an apartment with two spare rooms, so all we needed was contribution.

Now Kate like me had been spanked at home and I soon found out that big sister Kristen had sometimes had a hand in this. After two drunken-lates, an overfilled washer-drier incident and a blocked sink, Kristen lost patience with little sister and Kate went across her knee right there in the living room with me watching.

This was a bare butt affair complete with hairbrush as my mother used to handle me. The only difference was that Kristen made Kate spend a good chunk of the evening facing the wall with her panties and sweats still around her ankles.

I couldn’t help laughing, that is until Kristen said that it was no worse than I had gotten at home. Well I couldn’t deny that, “Except for corner time, pretty much,” I admitted.

Kristen told me that corner time was the most effective part and that both she and Kate had spent many embarrassing hours facing the wall right through college. Later I found out how embarrassing that was for Kristen who was nine years older.

I told her I was glad that I hadn’t gone through it then. Then she dropped the bombshell and told me that given my behavior was not much better than Kate’s “it was never too late.”

I think if I had told her no way or something that would have been the end of it, but I became all tongue-tied and blushed. So about three weeks later I came home and found Kristen waiting with a refused check in one hand and hairbrush in the other. It was my rent check.

Kristen bawled me out for ages and then told me she was going to spank me. I sort of protested but it happened anyway. And I had to go over her knee with my pants and panties down while she really put that brush to me. It was far worse than anything I got at home and I cried for the first time since I was a teen.

Kristen was also right about the corner time. I was still facing the wall with my panties down when Kate came home.

Since then I have been spanked often, sometimes right along with Kate. I don’t know how weird this is, but weirder still is that Kate is planning to move out and get her own place and Kirsten wants me to stay where she can keep an eye on me. I totally hate getting spanked at 25 and corner time is a real bitch, but I think I am going to stick around for a bit.

Some time today this blog will have been visited 7 million times. the exact number of unique visitors is not recorded by my stats but even allowing for multiple home page visits the average visitor spends several minutes looking at two and half pages each visit. I guesstimate that there are around 10,000 regular readers of this blog and perhaps that many again who do not come back or only occasionally check in. Or put it another way, each post on this blog has been read an average of 7,000 times.

I don’t know where that puts A Voice in the Corner in the popularity stakes as set against other blogs, upper middle would be my guess. If that is so, then multiply that by the number of other blogs out there and you have some idea that you are not alone.

So thank you to all readers for making this project work. meanwhile here are some pictures.

Earlier this week a direct mail link was added on the front page to facilitate communication for anyone with a problem with this blog. That way it keeps some things out of comments and issues can be more quickly resolved.

This prompted a quick flurry of friendly emails, so a big thanks to those who did say hi.

Mini said she had been lurking for a while and loved spanking stories. She said, “I showed this blog to my boyfriend and got an unexpected spanking. My first! It hurt way more than I expected but I guess I broke the dam and I will be getting more. So thanks (I think).”

I clipped a couple for possible future use and found some others I had saved.

This one by Louise that I found some time ago. She wrote:

I had no clue about spanking and if I had I think I would have thought it bad or brutal or something. But when I was at college doing my master’s (so no longer a kid – well to a point) I moved into a shared house. To cut a long story short there was Steve, an older bossy guy among my housemates and he was always bossing me about, which I found secretly thrilling but I pushed back against it.

One day we had a row and I threw a vase at him. I can’t believe that I did that even now. Luckily it missed but went flying through an open window and smashed on the pavement outside.

“You brat,” he said angrily.

He chased me around the house until he caught me and then took down my shorts and knickers and spanked my bare bottom good and hard until I cried. I was so sorry and ashamed and could not stop apologising to him. It was also lucky that none of the others were in.

“Are you really sorry,” he said.

I promised I was. So he said I would have to do as I was told to be forgiven. He didn’t wait for an answer, but made me stand in the corner with shorts and knickers still pulled down. I had a really hot bottom and it really amazed and also (secretly) excited me.

Later I had to apologise to Catherine, whose vase it was and after some prompting I admitted that I had been spanked.

Of course Catherine thought that this was hilarious.

Steve said he would spank me when I needed it, but I thought he was teasing. He wasn’t.

I got spanked by him often, sometimes when others were around and was teased mercilessly by them. I must have been spanked a dozen times and sent to the corner before we went on a date and became an item.