Friday, 30 November 2012

A professional submissive reports...

I was chatting the other day to a pro-sub named Belinda, who reported that guys are increasingly booking sessions at 8 o'clock in the morning or even earlier. At that hour I am barely aware that I am still alive, so the chances of me swinging a cane around are about nil I should think and I always assumed that this was the way it is for most people.

What is happening is that chaps tell their wives that they have to go into the office an hour early to catch up on work and the wives believe this tale because who in their right mind would want to partake of hanky-panky when the streets have not thoroughly aired? I found this this information interesting and was inspired to dig a little deeper and I discovered that the other big times for session bookings fall between noon and 2 o'clock, and then in the hour of so after 5 o'clock.

Is it just me or is there something very funny indeed about otherwise henpecked husbands creeping out behind the backs of their awfully wedded wives to whack the backsides of pro-subs before crawling off home like good little sheeple? It makes me long for the days of Colonel Sir Buffton Tuffton who would thrash wife, daughter and secretary with equal abandon and didn't give a tinker's cuss who knew about it.

We live in horrible times.

Thursday, 29 November 2012

Please Vote For Deathless Love

Will you do me a favour? Just click on this link and then vote for Deathless Love by Renee Rose as November's favourite story. You only have until the early hours of Saturday morning British time to cast your vote so please get a-clicking.

What's it about? It's a spanking vampire story, what more do you want to know? OK, go on then, if you insist I'll tell you that it is the story of Kate, who sings at a club owned by Dom the vampire. When not nibbling her neck he has her across his knee with skirts up and panties down to teach her that even the undead have feelings that a thoughtless female can insult.

It's a great tale so vote for Renee Rose and Deathless Love! 

Amazon UK          Amazon USA

EL James 50 Shades Interview

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An interesting interview with EL James. authoress of the Fifty Shades trilogy. She leaves open the possibility of more books in the series, and if that was not enough to get the eyes rolling, she then wants us to believe that she is embarrassed by men reading her fantasies. Given that those fantasies started out as Twilight fan fiction I am dubious that this lady can be embarrassed about anything, but never mind.

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

Authorgraph Anyone?

This is a wonderfully silly invention, but I like it. People complain that the disadvantage with e-books is that you cannot get the author to sign a copy of his work. Well, thanks to Authorgraph you can get an e-signature for your e-book. Yes, I know, its not perfect, but it is an attempt to overcome the problem.

So what do you do? Well, you click on the link above and decide which book of mine that you want signing. Once I get the mail you will receive a free "signed" front cover of that particular book. Go ahead and collect the lot!

Monday, 26 November 2012

Miss Pippa Middleton: a grovelling apology

We At Urzdown Hall wish to humbly apologise to Miss Pippa Middleton for any distress that out perving posts made have caused her. In our own defence we could argue that the owner of a ripe, luscious, totally smackable read end such as Pippa's should need a license before that rump is taken out on the public  highway, but we accept that this might be a bit impracticable.

No, instead we shall do our best to ignore those luscious, seductive, totally banging great hard-on inducing curves from now onwards. Furthermore, never again will we sit in pubs discussing how great it would be to have Pippa tear streaked and humbled, bend over a table with her sore, swollen freshly smacked bottom on display as we lower our trousers to that she can submissively take the throbbing cock that is about to enter her body.

Further references to Her Royal Hotness and suchlike will not be made, and never again will gentlemen of this blog be invited to consider the day when a wedding turned into a porn show for millions of happy chappies all across the planet:

As a mark of our good faith, and to show what all round good eggs we are, we are offering you the chance to go and buy Pippa's party book, excitingly entitled Celebrate, just in time for Christmas:

Friday, 23 November 2012

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Miss Pippa Middleton Again!

Chaps, I just have to give up some valuable drinking time to award yet another Order of the Burning Buttocks to the ever lovely Miss Pippa Middleton.

If she isn't walking around in a schoolgirl skirt, then she is providing us with all too infrequent glimpses of her pert, made to smack rear end. It reminds us once again of how we switched on the royal wedding, having nothing else to do that day, and were treated to a free porn video instead.

Pippa, on behalf of the gentlemen of England may I say that every time we look at you something starts running down our legs and we don't think that it's sweat.

Good Times With Girls: New Low Price!

The e-book version of Good Times With Girls has now been reduced to a super low price of just £3.00 in the UK and $5.00 over in the USA!

What can I say? I am the nicest guy you would ever wish to meet, taking the food out of my children's mouth to give you your porn at prices anyone can afford.

Truly, goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, or something.

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Competition: Win a Free Copy of Spanks For The Memories

Have you enjoyed the selections from Spanks For The Memories: The Changing Spanking Scene Since The 1970s? If so do you want a free copy of the book?

All you have to do is drop me a line with your wittiest memory of erotic life. It can be anything you like, from buying condoms in the 1960s to shopping at Ann Summers today via the joys of waiting for a video to arrive by post in the 1980s.

I will choose male and female winners, and their memories will be posted up on this very blog. So dig into your memory banks and let's hear your tales. Please write them to me at To be on the safe side, I am closing comments to this post.

I'll choose the winners at the end of this month, so start getting the memory chips whirring, folks!

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories: Spotting The Fakes

Spanks For The Memories: The Changing Spanking Scene Since The 1970s was published over the weekend and here is another extract from it. This one deals with the internet fakes, odious men who pretend to be girls to get their rocks off.

The fakes are very easy to spot, if you keep your wits about you. Usually they take the identity of the sweet young girl of your dreams and they contact you on either Facebook or something similar. Here are Uncle Nick's three rules of spotting them: 

Firstly, does the girl come over as being the stuff that fantasies are made out of? That is probably because she is; she's a fantasy created by someone, who is busy pulling his pud as he reads your messages to him. If you do not believe me, then just ask yourself how many 18-year-old girls are willing to behave in the way that this one is supposedly doing with you? If you sit back and think with your head instead of your dick then you will smell the rat. Remember the old adage that if something is too good to be true then it usually is. 

Secondly, how many friends does your new playmate have on Facebook? Most fakes do not have the hundreds of friends that real girls have. Leading on from that how many photos do they have on their profile? Some girls only have a few, but most will have hundreds, as that is just the way that girls are. Obviously, the fakers cannot copy the hundreds of friends and photos that a genuine girl will fill her page with. Very well, you will certainly find real girls who do not have a lot of friends and photos, but they are the exception to the rule. However, the fakes never have many friends or photos. 

Finally, demand to hear your new friend's voice. What has she got to hide if she is genuine? If she does not want to use her own telephone then tell her to use a call box, but insist on her making that call. This tactic is pretty much guaranteed to get rid of every single fake. Do not listen to their bluster about how the time is not right, just tell them that the time is right now, baby, otherwise off is where you should tell them to fuck. Trust me; it is the one tactic that will separate the on-line wheat from the chaff. Not difficult is it? So do not get caught out again! 

Monday, 19 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories: The Mr Ulsterman Story

Here's the third extract from Spanks For The Memories, my brief account of a thoroughly enjoyable life as a writer of spanko porno. The book itself is now available on the electronic bookshelves at a very reasonable £3.00.

Although the web has created many more opportunities for the fakes and fraudsters to operate, it has also created a quite wonderful space within which ordinary people can interact. This is something that the kinky communities have adopted with abandon. For instance the idea of a munch, a word which combines meeting with lunch, did not even exist when I bade farewell to Britain’s shores, but they are now the mainstay of the BDSM world. Originally they existed as lunchtime meetings, but now they have become the shorthand expression for any group of BDSM inclined people who decide to get together to socialise. Often held in otherwise vanilla pubs with an A to Z atlas or something on the table so that newcomers know which people to approach they are a great way to meet like minded people in a new town. 

Needless to say, possibilities exist for things to get seriously misunderstood and with me around that is invariably what happens. I remember going to an evening munch in a vanilla pub and being introduced to a waif-like girl in her very early thirties who asked some polite questions about my book, A Spanking Good Life. Some time later a thick-set giant of a man introduced himself in a broad Ulster accent and after the usual pleasantries were over, told me that he was a former Royal Ulster Constabulary officer. I planned to sit back and listen to his tales of thrashing Fenians within an inch of their miserable lives or something, when Mr Ulsterman asked me if I had a wife or girlfriend. I replied that my wife was in Mexico, and that Raven, my mistress was out of the country. With that someone else started to talk to me and the Ulsterman also turned his head to chat to someone so I forgot the exchange. 

About half an hour later I saw Mr Ulsterman and Miss Waif deep in conversation, and then they both turned to look at me, with Miss Waif asking the question that was clearly on both their minds: 

“You are a dominant man, aren’t you?” 

“Of course, just like him” I replied, gesturing to the man mountain who probably made the entire Falls Road collectively shit itself at the mere mention of his name back in the day.

“You said that you had a mistress,” said Mr Ulsterman, with a puzzled look on his face. 

“Well, yes, I do. I’m married, so my lovers are my mistresses. That’s what the girlfriend of a married man is called, a mistress,” I replied, thoroughly puzzled by the question. 

“You see,” said Miss Waif. “I told you he wasn’t a naughty boy like you, didn’t I?”

 “Yes, mistress,” replied the by now very subdued, totally fucking submissive, Mr Ulsterman. 

“Yes, but this mistake has earned you twelve with the cane when we get home, I’m sorry to have to tell you,” explained Miss Waif, who was by then very much in control of this muscle-bound giant who could have crushed her in one hand had he been so minded. 

Mr Ulsterman did not say a word, and contented himself with a nod, but I noticed that his hooded eyes were glinting darkly in anticipation of the punishment to come…

Spanks For The Memories arrives on the Kindle!

Two weeks earlier than anticipated, Spanks For The Memories has arrived on Amazon's Kindle!

It is hard to believe but just a week ago I was announcing a launch date of the end of the month, but that was before Raven got to work and created the file for Smashwords which  she then uploaded on Friday.

I was expecting several more days to pass before the rather more complicated Kindle file would be ready, but Raven sat down and got it ready to go over the weekend. I really am in her debt for all this.

Enough of this maudlin emotion stuff, the book is available from all version of Amazon, which for most of you will mean Amazon UK and Amazon USA. Don't forget that you can also pick it up from the Smashwords site in all the other formats.

Friday, 16 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories has just been published!

Spanks For The Memories has just been published at where it is available in all major formats for just $2.99. It will go live on the various Amazon sites in a few days, but why wait when you can get it right now and read it on your Kindle if you wish? All you do is download the Mobi version of the book, connect your Kindle to the computer via the USB cable and then copy the file before pasting it into your My Documents folder on the Kindle. Easy-peasy.

What's my latest book about? Have you ever wanted to know the inside story behind the spanking pornography trade? It has changed a lot since the 1970s so come along as I take you on a roller-coaster ride, which starts back in the days of duplicated typescripts and ends up with today's websites. My knowledge of the world of video making and the spanking party scene is second to none. So if you want to know the real stories behind many of the classic video shoots of the 1980s as well as reading an authoritative account of how the spanking party scene developed, then this slim, 25,000 word volume is the one that you have been waiting for.

Update: Amazon UK and Amazon USA both have it!

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories: The Growth of Video

This is the second extract from  Spanks For The Memories, my account of my years as a porno writer and video maker. Let's look at the growth of video and how Harrison Marks turned out to be very lucky indeed...
At the end of the 1980s it looked to all the writers as if the land was about to overflow with milk and honey. Looking back that hubris was a mistake, but how were we to know that the cold winds of the 1990s were about to hit us with a vengeance? 

To be fair, we had ridden out the video storm reasonably well and had learned to coexist with it, which is more than can be said for our American counterparts who were swept away by the video tide. In the USA the trade in magazines just died as everyone started renting pornographic videos from their local shop, but in Britain such videos could not be sold legally, thank goodness, so the magazines continued for a while longer. 

That is not to say that the country was not awash with videos, and I knew plenty of people who would travel to Holland to stock up on supplies of the latest American shagfests, which the canny Dutch were issuing on Video 8 cartridges that were actually made to record video in a camera. However, unlike a VHS cartridge these items were small enough to fit unobtrusively in a jacket pocket. Once home the merchant would slot the cartridge into his camera, hook that up to the VHS machine and then start to copy the video onto full sized VHS tapes to sell to the eager multitude.

 It has to be admitted that the law did not take the ostensibly overarching video legislation all that seriously, either. Until the day that he died, George Harrison Marks used to love telling the story of how he was once prosecuted for selling some spanking videos. So convinced was he that he would be spending time as a guest of Her Majesty that he went to court with a stock of fresh underwear and socks in a paper bag. As his name was read out the judge leaned myopically forward and asked if the defendant was the same Harrison Marks who had once edited Janus? When this was confirmed to him, his lordship’s eyes were raised slightly at the news, and the judicial lips were then pursed in thought. The defence council rose and made his one submission, which was that the videos had been exported to Denmark and that Harrison Marks was not responsible if someone chose to then export them back to Britain. This rather lame explanation was considered by the judge who then ruled that there was no case to answer and dismissed the defendant. To say that the courtroom was stunned was putting it mildly and for the rest of his life Harrison Marks would tell that story as an example of just how much the high and mighty enjoyed a good spanking read. Certainly, this event and others like it had an influence on the trade with more and more pornographers turning their attention to the making of spanking videos, with a reasonable degree of certainty that nobody would disturb them. 

Why did this not destroy the written word as it did across the Atlantic? Largely because the trade was still semi-clandestine as the police would raid a normal video shop that had the temerity to stock pornographic tapes. Therefore, unlike the United States or most of Europe, the punter could not go to a shop and rent a tape, instead he had to buy it from a man that he did not know and wait for it to arrive in a big, bulky envelope by post. Some punters were quite happy to give their details out, but most were not. Soho started selling videos, but many shops were ripping off the punters by selling them blank tapes, and the video trade acquired a reputation for out and out fraudulent activity, which the magazine side of the porn trade never had. 

To cut a long story short, the writers continued to make money with magazines that should have been killed off by video, and would have been had Britain not be quite such an anally retentive place as it was in the 1980s. 

On the other hand, the hack writers of Britain who made rather a lot of money under those circumstances gave thanks for anal retention and the type of government that it created.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories: The Caning Machine Story

As promised yesterday, here's the first selection from Spanks For The Memories, my new book which will see the light of day early next month at the very reasonable price of just £2.99.

This excerpt which follows deals with the Caning Machine story, something which porn merchants still chuckle over whenever it is repeated - which it is, frequently. Being a cuddly sort of cove I have included the actual clip which shows the girl leap to her feet. There is a jump cut at the 45 second mark which is when she did her runner. The rest was shot about an hour later after they had calmed her down.

Read, enjoy and remember that the full book is chock full of laughs like this:

Amusing disasters do seem to follow the spanking video trade around, come to think about it. I suspect that one of the reasons is the sheer number of honest English eccentrics that abound in it ranks. One guy decided that what he really wanted to have was a caning machine, so he set to work and built one. It was a wonderfully Heath-Robinson contraption that involved a cane being held flat on a table by a spring. The cane had to be pulled back by hand and there was no trigger mechanism so the operator just let go at the appropriate moment, whereupon the cane was flicked forward to administer a stroke to anyone who was bent over next to the table. Does this sound like a sensible idea to you? 

This weird and wonderful contraption had its first and only outing in a mid-1980s video called, with amazing originality, The Caning Machine. The rather pretty girl on the receiving end was actually an Alitalia airhostess who doubled up in CP videos in her spare time, by the way. The machine unleashed its cane across the naked girl’s buttocks causing her to leap around and scream blue murder. She grabbed her clothes and fled the set in a high temper, but was persuaded to return to complete the final scene. If you watch the video you can see there is a jump cut almost immediately after the cane cracks across her bare bottom and that was the point when she did her runner. 

The girl refused to take any more from the machine, so that final scene was ad-libbed to make it appear as if she was only due to receive a one stroke caning, anyway, and on that ridiculous note the video ends, but not the story. The girl then left and for reasons that are still unclear decided to go to the police who promptly raided the set where another video was being shot. Everyone was taken off to the nick, where the Italian girl was waving her arms around, stamping her foot, and generally giving a performance that would shame a local amateur dramatic society. Matters dragged on for some time because every copper in town felt constrained to come along and inspect the seat of the injury as it were. I am sure that you will understand that this was necessary in the interests of gathering evidence, or something. However, once it became clear that there was no case to answer, as after all she had agreed to the shoot in the first place, the cops, cast and crew all went off and got gloriously drunk together. 

 Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you in all seriousness, could anyone make shit like this up? 

I'll post another excerpt tomorrow!

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Spanks For The Memories Front Cover

Here's the front cover of Spanks For The Memories, my new book which is due out in a couple of weeks. Come back tomorrow to read some of it right here on this very blog.

What's it about? Well, what it says on the tin, it's my memories of the porn trade since the 1970s with particular emphasis on the spanking side of it.

We will look at duplicating machines and the thugs who owned them along with the spanking magazines of the day. Coming forward we will look at Antonia du Bois and the early CP videos to say nothing of an Alitalia air-hostess who got more than she bargained for when she did a CP shoot. Then it's on to the spanking parties before we finish up by looking at the whole social media scene of today.

Unlike my earlier works this one will only be available as an e-book, but it will be issued in all the main formats as well as PDF for those of you who want to print it out yourselves.

Monday, 12 November 2012

Double baggers are useful after all!

The Law of Unintended Consequences has come up trumps for me right now. At the end of last month I had a blazing row with a lump of lard in a pub. That's her pictured on the right in the photo, and  trust me when I say that you don't want to see the face. Anyway, after the verbals ended I wrote about the incident that night as it gave me an easy posting. A few days later I realised that my clips' site sales were going through the roof and checking my statporn I saw that it had become wankable indeed. Hard though it is to believe but the argument had led directly to a healthy bank balance.

I don't normally read the various fora where the argument is being misrepresented, but following an e-mail from someone who does I went a-searching and was delighted by what I found. In a nutshell various types are trying to curry favour with the creature that I had the altercation with, obviously in the hope that by slagging me off they might gain access to her in some way. Yes, I know, the thought revolts me as much as it would any normal fellow, but these men are a bit sad to put it mildly.

The point is that some of these dickheads are seeking to make their case by sticking up links to that earlier posting of mine. What they don't realise that there is no such thing as bad publicity and for every precious soul who clucks like a lobotomised hen at the blog there are any number of others who read the threads on these fora, click idly on a link because they find the whole discussion tedious in the extreme, and land on this blog. Then they go off and buy one of my trouser tightening, cock throbbing, early 1980s spanko porn vids!

The end result of all this is that I was able to take Raven out to dinner on Saturday night, and then to lunch at a very nice three starred Michelin eatery on Sunday all courtesy of dickless dwarfism. I hope that the weekend was as profitable and enjoyable for the dwarfs who are acting as my unpaid advertising agency, but suspect that it wasn't. Never mind, as I hear that they are planning a remake of Deliverance and if the company needs some authentic extras I know a few genuine inbred retards who would be perfect:

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Olvido Hormigos Carpio

An Order of the Burning Buttocks is hereby awarded to Mrs Olvido Hormigos Carpio, a Spanish primary schoolmistress, local politician and porn star. The porn star bit is accidental because she made the video for either her husband or lover, depending upon which version of the tale you believe. Either way it leaked to the web as these things will and now Olvido is an ex-politician.

Somebody should tell these silly girls that if you make a sleazy video that it is almost certain that someone will leak it to the web so that the rest of us can have a good old perv.

Since nobody else seems willing to take this saucy young madam in had it falls to me to say:

Come here young lady: you know that you deserve this!

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Stephanie Ruhle

That's OK because I had no idea who Stephanie Ruhle was either until I saw the video of her flashing the old upskirt for the perving pleasure of the multitude.

I suppose that this financial journalist could argue that the producers insisted on the high stool, but the short skirt is hers alone and it meant that she had to keep her thighs jammed firmly together - until she decided not to which is when we got the flash. When will the Newsnight presenters who wear similarly short skirts treat us to a similar display?

In the meantime, and for not knowing how to sit properly, we award a sound Order of the Burning Buttocks to Miss Stephanie Ruhle:

Now come here, young lady: you know that you deserve this!

Monday, 5 November 2012

Fat Bastards

Why do fat bastards think that people take them seriously? I am not talking about the Roy Chubby Brown characters:

No I am talking about the genuine fat bastards, the types that I run into, the ones who volunteer for video work without realising that if we put them in front of the camera the audience will think that the Carry On team are back at work.

The scene suddenly seems to be full of these lumps of lard and I wish that it wasn't. A generation ago it was made up of chaps who had experienced a good war and who believed that the smack of firm government began at home. And if they enjoyed tanning a secretarial backside or wifely rump that was just an added bonus.

Now we have creatures with lank hair that you could fry chips in, who wear sweat pants because the drooping sack of blubber that they call a belly will not fit into any other pair of strides and who give off the rank, goatish odour of the truly repulsive.

And they think that women are attracted to that. Dear God, it's enough to make a normal man turn to drink.

Thursday, 1 November 2012

Dealing with double baggers

I try to understand women, I really do. I said that to Raven on the way back to the hotel after yesterday's barny, but all she did was guffaw in a strangulated kind of way. I tried to explain to her that the problem is that no matter how hard I try I just cannot get my head that far up my fucking arsehole to make sense of them which was when she started slapping her thighs in glee and yelping that I had just proved her point. Since I seem to be having trouble explaining my quite reasonable view to just about everyone these days, let's take the matter nice and slowly.

As a young fellow I took the view that I was quite happy to drink beer with any man and shag any woman. As an older man I am a bit more discriminating, or at least I need a couple of pints inside me if presented with a double bagger, that is to say a  creature so dog ugly that not only does she need to wear a brown paper bag but so does the guy shafting her in case hers falls off. Certainly I am less likely to even pretend to be nice to such a dog, especially if she needs to shed a few pounds to boot.

Thus it came to pass that yesterday I allowed myself to be provoked by a rather nasty piece of pussy that I should have just ignored. My excuse is that I was stone cold sober and in that state I would not have touched her with yours never mind mine, so I didn't really care what I said - and I said plenty, most of it obscene but all of it very enjoyable.

I suppose the moral of this tale is that if you are a double bagger best to wait until I am sloshed before provoking me as my dick may then decide that you are worth a ride. Thus I will  bite my tongue, even though my eyes are provoking my stomach to heave.

Alternatively, we could all just ignore such creatures, click on this link and find something nice to settle down with. You know it makes sense!
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