Cinema Spankings: North West Mounted Police

The Mounties always get their men, and in North West Mounted Police they get to spank their women as well.

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Calstar

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Calstar are probably one of the best known American spanking video producers and they tend to use a lot of British actors in their productions. Check out the clips that I have uploaded for you on the player and see what you think. Don't forget to reload the page to get a new video.

The spanking writers' Golden Age: the 1980s

The latter part of the 1970s saw any number of porn merchants trying to get a slice of the Janus pie. Magazines with titles long forgotten appeared, enjoyed a brief spell on the shelves, and than vanished like the early morning dew. However two factors came together in the the very early 1980s to ensure that the monopoly was going to collapse. The first we discussed last week, and that was the feud that broke out within the Janus organisation. The second involved the willingness of the wholesalers to carry adult titles.

WH Smith had always refused to stock Janus, but that policy changed in the late 1970s. What that meant was that other publishers could use an already existing distribution system if they could get a title up and running. Until then getting Janus outside London involved a shop buying the magazine each month and waiting for those issues to arrive by parcel post. The change of policy by WH Smith meant that anybody who could guarantee a set number of sales each month could pretty much be sure of their title being carried by Smith's. The London porn merchants hastened to set up their titles.

By the early 1980s Blushes, Kane and Roue were all competing with Janus for the national fladge readership. Many provincial titles also sprang up, most using a more sophisticated version of the old duplicating technology that had produced the typescripts. They circulated in their region and by post to subscribers outside it.

You want to know about money, I can tell. Janus always paid the best, giving its hacks about £25.00 per thousand words. The other titles paid £20.00 and the provincials about £15.00. All of this was cash money, or by a cheque made out to cash, which amounted to the same thing.

By God the money rolled in! Any half decent hack who could stay sober long enough to string a sentence together could be virtually guaranteed a regular income. Janus were their usual snotty selves once they had overcome their little local difficulties, but the other titles took whatever we chose to give them and bloody well liked it. If you do the sums you can see what was going on. Hiring a model, studio and photographer cost a lot of money. Paying me a hundred quid to fill three or four pages in the rag worked out a lot cheaper - and my efforts could be used with stock photos taken from the archives - and that padded out the story to another page at least.

The situation became so ridiculous that I can remember writing a tale called The Master of Blackstone Hall for Roue, and being paid £100 for the five thousand word epic. Then I sold the same story to a Sheffield publisher who gave me £75.00 for it. Finally the story was sold yet again for £25.00 to a bloke who ran a spanking newsletter which included a story every month. Sure, I had to agree to change the story slightly and then break it down into five chapters, that then ran one a month in the newsletter, but it was still the same tale at the end of the day.

The introduction of personal computers only made the work easier. The writers discovered that a word processor package meant that a story could have names, locations and descriptions added to a manuscript to personalise it. So began the short-lived but highly lucrative trade of personalised manuscripts. The punter would supply the names that he wanted, along with some other details. Half an hour later all that had been added to the mix and a story was printed up to be posted to the punter next morning.

What could possibly happen to bring an end to this halcyon world? The internet, that's what happened. The trade in magazines just dried up as more and more people joined the computer age in the 1990s. I can remember speaking to a publisher in about 1995 with a view to writing some stories for him and he candidly admitted that the most that he could pay was a tenner per thousand words and he was only offering that for old time's sake and because he knew that I could write. He pulled all his material off the web, an activity that involved hours of plodding through the turgid prose that enthusiastic amateurs had written - but when he eventually found something decent then it could be nicked for free. The porn trade - don't you just love it?

Let's face it, we had a good run down the years and that Golden Age had to come to an end at some time. Funnily enough, I have now started blogging, an activity which combines both publishing and writing, so perhaps a new Golden Age is on the horizon? I will comment more on that in a later posting, but the next instalment of this series will look at my time as a spanking video star - check back for that!

The Prefects' Lessons

Moonglow has really come up with a winner with this video which features no fewer than five girls on the receiving end of the hard palms and swishing canes. The story involves four teachers who are sitting around bemoaning the fact that corporal punishment is about to be abolished in schools. So they decide to to make the wake as memorable as possible by thrashing as many girls as they can before the deadline is reached. They start by spanking the waitress in the bar where they have spent the afternoon. Just click on the movie to watch the incredible spanking that the young actress endured and remember, nothing is faked in Moonglow shoot. By all accounts the young girl could not sit down for a week after that paddling was over.

Trust me - you are going to want to see the whole of this thrashtastic epic - so just click this link.

Britain's Got Spanking!

On Saturday we reported that the Britain's Got Talent show that night would contain a spanking duo called High Shakespeare. Alas they did not make it past the auditions and so did not appear on the final show, but your Uncle Nick Urzdown is pleased to upload their performance for your delectation and delight.

The spanking is not the soundest in history, but who cares? The men in the audience seem to be rocking with delight, whilst the women tend to have their hands over their mouths, probably thinking that their men may get ideas. The clip ends backstage where the girl gets another spanking.

Not bad for a Saturday night on prime time TV.

Thanks: Spanking News

Teaching Sarah to behave

Spanking in the 1970s was difficult in one respect because by the middle of the decade the fashionable girls wore full length evening dresses for their disco inferno nights, which made their correction that much harder. Trying to lift up a long skirt when the owner is frantically kicking to save her backside from a blistering is not easy and I for one was glad when the styles changed towards the end of the decade and shorter skirts came back into fashion.

I remember taking Sarah, a nurse who worked at the Royal Infirmary to what was the hottest disco in town back then. She was a jolly girl with short blonde hair and needless to say that night she wore a full length black gown that left her shoulders bare and which had red inserts in the skirt. She looked quite fetching I must say.

Sarah was a teasing little trollop who enjoyed causing trouble in nightclubs. She would wait until I had gone to get drinks and if I was delayed for any reason then by the time I got back I would find her deep in conversation with some other man. As a rule this game passed me by as I am not the jealous type, but for some reason when she did it that night it irritated me enormously.

I sat down next to her and facing the poor devil that she had suckered in with her whiles. I smile at him sympathetically - after all none of this was his fault - and with a smile on my face I told him that he was not the first to fall for this trick. I went on, speaking clearly so that Sarah could here me, to say that he could rest assured as I was going to smack her bottom before she went to bed that night.

He gave me a grin and got up from the table. Sarah said nothing, but she fingered the material of her dress in a nervous sort of way. I allowed a few minutes to finish the drinks and then I took her arm, walked her to get her coat and then loaded her into the car for the drive back to the nurses' home.

She hardly spoke during the drive until we were almost in site of the building. Then she found her voice and started complaining that I had no right, no right at all to give her the spanking that she knew she had coming to her.

"You have no right" she wailed, plucking at the door handle in a foolish attempt to leave the car that was travelling quite fast.

"Rights? Rights? I'll use this to show you my right," I promised, pulling my belt free from my trousers and tossing in onto her lap.

She began to get more and more hysterical so I swerved the car into a car park that I knew would be deserted at that time of night. Pulling over in the far corner away from the only entrance and exit I switched off the ignition and opened my door. Before Sarah had time to realise that her moment had arrived I grabbed the belt from out of her hands and yanked her across my knees to leave her body dangling out of the car. Then I used both hands to pull up the skirt of her dress and left it virtually covering her head. Both hands were then placed on either side of her hips and her shiny black panties were pushed down to her knees.

I folded the belt in two and held it in my right hand. I lifted my right leg slightly so as to keep her off balance. That way she could not use her hands to protect herself as they were carrying her weight and preventing her face from falling onto the car park's gravel. I placed my left arm over her thighs just to stop her from falling out of the car completely and then I raised the belt above my head and brought it down across her defenceless buttocks as hard as I could.

I gave her a good twenty-five strokes with that belt, each one with the full weight of my arm behind it, and each one raised a good welt on her bare, helpless bottom. By the third or fourth stroke she had started to cry and by the time we had reached a round dozen she was pretty hysterical.

"Please," she whimpered, trying to twist her body to look at me. "I am very sorry."

The reader will be pleased to learn that I ignored her pleas and gave her the complete dose, with the full power of my elbow behind each one. When it was over I let her rise and she slumped against her door, utterly defeated and without the strength to either lift up her knickers or pull down her dress. Without doubt, she had been taught her place that night.

When the sobbing had subsided she gingerly pulled up her panties and I walked her back to her room, took the key from her hands and opened her door. I pushed her in and unzipped her dress from the back and then I pulled it off her to let it fall to the floor. The bra was swiftly removed and then for the second time that evening her panties came down. However this time the purpose was anything but disciplinary as I put her on her hands and knees on the bed before mounting her doggie-style.

As I reached my climax I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back towards me. Placing my mouth close to her ear I told her quite firmly:

"Behave yourself in future!"

Britain's Got Spanking Talent!

Tune into Britain's Got Talent tonight to see a couple who call themselves High Shakespeare, and have an act that involves the woman quoting lines from the bard as she is spanked by the man, according to the Daily Mail. Rumours that the plays quoted from are King Rear, Arse Your Like It and Smackbeth are as yet unconfirmed.

Update, 11.45pm:

I watched the programme on the ITV Player and the High Shakespeare duo did not appear. Quite what is going on is anyone's guess, mine being that the company cut the act due to all the bad publicity.

Update, 10.30am, 26 April 2010:

The act can be watched by clicking this link. It seems that they did not make it past the auditions.

Cinema Spankings: Across The Wide Missouri

Across The Wide Missouri is a reasonably well known film, but the spanking is always worth a re-run - and it stars Clark Gable. Come on, girls haven't you just dreamed about going over his knee?

Bad Female

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I must confess and say that I am not a great fan of American spanking videos. They are just a bit too twee for my tastes, with girls who don't seem to be able to stop giggling. Still, don't let me put you off, go and watch these videos for yourself.

From typescripts to Janus: the 1970s

Monitor was a small circulation sex magazine that took advantage of 1960s liberalism to publish a spanking special. The issue sold out, leading one of the people involved with the magazine to utter the immortal line: "Every issue has to be a spanking special." The magazine only ran as Monitor for a total of four issues, but then had to change its name in a hurry owing to a legal threat from another magazine with the same title. Brainstorming ideas for a new name, someone came up with the idea of the Roman god of the home and hearth, a two-headed being who looks backward and forward at the same time. His name is Janus.

Unusually, and for reasons that are still unclear to this writer, Janus was run by spanking aficionados rather than the usual collection of drunken hacks who normally oversee a pornographer's output. The owner was a typical Soho hard man, but so long as the magazine was raking it in he was happy to leave the staff to their own devices. The money did roll in as by the early 1970s, with no real competition around, Janus had a monthly circulation of about 10,000 copies.

It was also cordially loathed by most of the hack writers in Britain. The problem was that Janus had its circle of writers and breaking into that rarefied group was next to impossible - especially for someone from the provinces. The Janus group would sit around and have pseudo philosophical discussions about the meaning of their particular perv which struck me as a faintly silly way to spend an afternoon. The meaning was and is quite simple: we want to make money out of something that gives us a hard-on.

It is pleasant to report that following the death of the editor of Janus, an attempt was made at a coup by the magazine's writers. George Harrison Marks was brought in as a stop-gap editor and he had little interest in the fladge. The writers flounced off to set up a magazine of their own, but what they had not reckoned with was the fact that in the late 1970s an awful lot of capital was needed to buy a printing press because most of the regular print shops wouldn't touch adult material with a proverbial bargepole. The few printers who would had no desire to offend a major Soho porn merchant, so the precious souls were left with their dicks in their hands and no way of getting their incredibly pretentious drivel to a wider audience.

The owner of Janus managed to keep his title, but it was touch and go for a time. Harrison Marks brought out about half a dozen issues of what he called New Janus which he filled with his photographs and whatever unpublished stories were hanging around the office. He was famous for his pornographic films and photographs, but once he realised just how profitable the fladge game was he scampered off to start Kane, his own competitor to Janus, which by then had reverted back to its old name.

Even if all this had not happened Janus was going to face competition sooner or later. The advantage that it had over its rivals is that most of them were poorly produced, small circulation efforts that paid their writers a pittance. Breaking the Janus monopoly meant that lots of new titles began to appear and for the writers the Golden Age of the 1980s was about to dawn.

The Mischievous Maid

What can we say about The Mischievous Maid that hasn't already been said? The storyline is wonderfully complicated and involves the lord of the manor having an affair with the maid, whilst his wife is engaged in lesbian romps with the housekeeper. Needless to say all three girls end up getting soundly chastised by hand and rod in a video that is a correctionist's delight.

The clip that I have selected shows Molly the maid receiving a rather good caning from the bursar. Who is he? I have no idea, but he sure knows how to wield the rod.

The whole video is available for your viewing delight by clicking this link.

Two spankings for Barbara

Barbara was yet another one of the nurses that I went out with in the mid to late 1970s. She worked at Hope Hospital in Salford, stood about 5' 5" in her stockinged feet and was ever so slightly overweight. This was something that troubled her, but it was not a matter that worried me. Partly because I find chubby females rather more of a delight than their scrawnier sisters, but also because bouncy girls tend to have larger bottoms, and when it comes to matters disciplinary that is a decided plus.

I was about to give Barbara a not too serious spanking one evening, We had been playing and she had started to tease me. I took it in good part but warned her that if she did not stop it I would smack her bottom. She had decided to carry on, so I was happily engaged in putting her across my knee and raising her skirt when I detected real fear in her voice as she felt my fingers go into the waistband of her panties.

The struggles became intense and given that she knew that we were only playing I thought this very strange indeed. Barbara twisted her head around and pleaded with me, with genuine fear in her voice, not to take her knickers down. Finding all this very curious indeed I decided to sit her up as I thought that there might be a story worth hearing.

Barbara had been spanked and spanked very soundly indeed by her father roughly two years earlier. She would have been about 23 when that had happened and clearly her father's action had left a bigger impression on her mind than it had on her bottom. It had not been the first time that he had spanked his daughter, but she had not been over daddy's knee for some years and had begun to think that she was to old for that treatment. Coming home late and answering her father in an insolent manner had taught her the error of her ways. By the time I met her she was not afraid of a spanking per se, but she was terrified of the lowering of the knickers that preceded such a correction.

This was the first time that a spanking tale had been related to me and I often questioned Barbara about the event. Over the years since then I have invariably asked females if they have ever been taken in hand, and have often been surprised and delighted by the stories that they have told me.

Barbara's father had spanked her in the family home, as her mother bustled around clearing up the plates from the dinner table. Her knickers had been stripped down to below her knees and she had felt her father's hand across her bottom, then down about two hand smacks along her thigh. That remorseless hand had then returned to her bottom via the other thigh before repeating the process all over again - and again!

Following this account I could not allow Barbara to escape unscathed that night. I put her back across my knee, lifted her knee-length skirt around her waist and pulled down her light blue panties. I cocked my leg over her bucking thighs, as low down as I could manage, just as her father had two years before. Holding her hands in my left hand, I spoke to her quietly but firmly:

"Barbara, I decide when you are to be spanked, I decide the severity of the spanking and I decide if you get to keep your panties on or not."

Then I administered the spanking. It was harder than I had intended before she had told me her story, but nowhere near as hard as the correction that her father had administered. Still, I smacked her right cheek, then two smacks on her right thigh, then a couple on the left, before returning to the left cheek and repeating the procedure all over again.

Barbara's father was a man to admire and emulate.

Cinema Spankings: Andrea

The Germans had a fine reputation for cinema spanking during the 1950s, 60s and 70s, as this clip from a film called Andrea shows. If you can ignore the appalling dubbing then the discipline is almost as hard as you would see in a Moonglow video today. Sit back and watch as he bends the insolent trollop over the bed, holds one of her arms firmly and then applies the belt with gusto.

What more could you ask for in a mainstream film?

Her First Punishment

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The good thing about the end of the Cold War is that Russia has joined the disciplinary world with some pretty amazing videos. Unlike many in the west, the girls are clearly not enjoying their experiences of severe discipline that is meant to teach obedience.

Spanking Interviews: Donna

You cannot call yourself a spanking aficionado if you don't know Donna as she has been involved with Moonglow since way back in 1988. Here she talks exclusively to Uncle Nick about some of the changes that she has seen over the past twelve years as far as the parties, video shoots and one 2 ones are concerned. The interview ends and we get a video clip of Donna on the receiving end of the tawse across her firm buttock cheeks.

Remember, ladies, that Moonglow is always on the lookout for well reared young ladies - and they pay very well indeed!

In The Days Of The Soho Typescripts, Part Two

I used to think that the tale of a Soho porn merchant who kept a writer in a cellar was apocryphal, but it has been attested to so I suppose that I must accept it as the truth. The story is told that a drunken old hack was give free lodgings in a cellar. At some point in the morning he was woken up, given breakfast and enough booze to keep his hands from trembling, and then he was put to work writing until lunch. After he had been fed he wrote some more until finally he was given a bottle and could seek oblivion with that until the next day.

The reason why I got involved with characters such as this was fairly straightforward: I needed the money. I had a job, but needed to earn an extra couple of quid a week. Given that my wages were about £15.00 a week in those dim and distant mid-1970s days, a fiver a month on top was a nice thing to have.

I thought about it and decided that the only things that I was any good at were shagging and writing, and since nobody was offering me any money for the former, I sat down with a typewriter that I had borrowed off my uncle and wrote a 5,000 word pornographic short story - all throbbing cocks and gaping vulvas - I am sure that you are familiar with the genre.

Having completed my epic I went to a particular pub where the local Maltese porn merchant who I knew slightly was usually to be found and offered him the manuscript. He looked it over and stuck it in his pocket. I left the pub with about £3.00 or so in my pocket and my career as a professional writer had begun. I would knock out a couple of these manuscripts a month and as a source of easy income it really couldn't be beaten.

The only problem was that it was in the merchants' interests to cut out as much of the manuscript as possible, because payment was by the thousand words. If a merchant could cut out the descriptive passages that we writers added to pad out the manuscripts, then he could save himself some money. There was nothing funnier than the sight of some wheezy, chain-smoking, semi-literate, with pencil in hand, trying to edit down a manuscript. Others were more laid back, such as the one who told me in all seriousness: "If I haven't got a hard-on by the end of the first page, I am not buying this fucking thing!"

What I needed was a niche; something that I could write about effortlessly, and without the need to pad out the pages with superfluous text. Spanking just seemed like the obvious choice, since it was a theme that I was interested in, anyway, and could wax lyrical about. I wrote a story and asked a tame merchant to buy it. His honesty was a joy to behold:

"I don't know shit about the fladge, son, but my punters can't get enough of it. Give me another couple like this and I'll run 'em - what name shall we use?

"Call me Nick Urzdown," I replied after ruminating for a moment.

"Is that supposed to be fucking funny, son?"

"Yeah."

"OK, Nick Urzdown it is. I should give a stuff."

Sadly within about a year my career as a writer of typescripts was over. London had already moved away from them and the provinces were following the capital's lead. The country had liberalised, and fears of prosecution had eased. Thus it was possible to produce a magazine on an offset-litho machine because a print run of 1,000 copies or so made it economically viable. The legitimate wholesalers were still not willing to carry those titles, but several shops in each provincial city would order up a few dozen copies every month to sell. The second-hand shops, of which there were dozens in every city, would then take the magazines from the customers on a half back deal and sell them on. Those shops also dealt with the local typescript vendors, but as more and more printed works became available the market for the typescripts dried up.

One such professionally printed job was a small magazine called Monitor. In the very early 1970s they produced a spanking special and as we shall discover next week, the world of CP fiction was never going to be the same again.

Army Stripes

Army Stripes is one of Moonglow's more popular videos, as it features girls in uniform, and that is always something that gets a high approval rating. The action is set in a Second World War army barracks and three WRACs are on the receiving end of some traditional punishment. I have chosen this clip especially for its rarity value as it is one of the few that shows a fully clothed bottom undergoing correction.

If you want to see the full video, just click on this link and off you go!

Outdoor spankings on the Pennines

I don't know about you but I find an out-of-door spanking rather a pleasant experience. I doubt if many of the recalcitrant females who have found themselves upended in a semi-public spot would agree, but it serves them right for behaving badly.

The first time I ever administered an al fresco correction was when I was in my late teens. People matured a lot quicker in those days and I had been working for two years by the time I met Julie, who was about 18 at the time. As I had just got my first car I celebrated by taking her up to the Pennines that separate the beautiful county of Lancashire from the tribal reserve that sits on the eastern side of the hills.

We spent most of the early afternoon in a pub before we left and walked up a pathway that started at the side of the building and ran up over the top of a hill. When we got to the top we spent some time smoking a cigarette each and admiring the view.

Neither of us was dressed for hiking, Julie had on a grey dress with a belt around the waist and low heeled shoes. Still, they were city shoes so I objected mildly when she announced that she wished to continue climbing the path along and then up to a much higher hill. I pointed out that the path was unpaved at that point and much steeper, but I might as well have been talking to one of the sheep that were all around us for all the attention she paid me.

She strode off and started her climb, with me following on shaking my head at the foolishness of it all. Sure enough madam slipped and twisted her ankle so I had to pick her up and carry her the hundred yards or so back to the rock. I sat her on my knee and let her complain about the ankle and the state of the path, before eventually and in some exasperation I remarked that none of it would have happened had she listened to me in the first place.

"Now don't be unreasonable, darling," she purred, twisting her ankle from side to side as it recovered from its twist.

"I am not being unreasonable, I am being sensible," was my reply. "Now stay where you are until you recover and we shall walk back to the car."

You cannot talk to some women. Julie got to her feet, stuck her tongue out at me, and then started walking off back up the path. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the rock. "Let go of me," she said in a voice that was quietly wilful. "I can look after myself."

She began to twist and wriggle to free herself from my grasp and then when she realised that this was not going to work she bit my hand, not hard, but enough to cause me to loosen my grip. As soon as I did that she walked off with a look of triumph on her face.

I wan't going to debate this matter any more. Two steps got me just behind her and I seized her arm and marched her back to the rock. Sitting down I pulled her across my knees and gave her two firm smacks to the rump. Then I pulled the dress up to reveal a firm pair of buttocks nicely clad in white cotton panties.

Julie kicked and bucked like a wild bronco, and the only way to hold her in position was to cross my right leg over both her thighs and hang on for dear life. Since she had put both hands behind her back to protect her already smarting rump, I had to jam her left arm behind me and hold her right one at an angle in the small of her back. There wasn't time to get the knickers down - the struggling was so ferocious that I knew that if this young madam was not corrected immediately she would have broken free and I would have been humiliated by my failure.

I gave her about a dozen smacks, alternating one cheek with the other. Each one was well laid on and caused her to yell at the top of her voice as the discipline proceeded. The struggles never abated and I felt that I was losing control of her so having completed a good twelve slaps I pushed her off my knee and onto the ground. It was better to let her think that her spanking had ended because I chose to bring it to a close, rather than give her the victory of breaking free herself.

Julie sat on the ground and rubbed her bottom with a look of fury on her face. I noticed that tears were about to break out so I sat quietly and smoked another cigarette whilst I waited for her to compose herself. Stubbing out the end of my smoke, I stood up and motioned for Julie to rise: "Come along, we are going back to town," I told her.

Julie was quiet on the way home and kept her eyes down throughout the journey. She sat sideways in her seat and as the journey progressed her hands were drawn to her bottom, to rub and stroke it in the hope of easing the fire that I had lit under her skirt. Although I didn’t realise it at the time she was obviously mulling over the day’s events in her mind and coming to a conclusion about me in the process.

I suppose that I must have thought that I would drop her off at home and that would be the end of things, but when we reached Julie’s house she reached over and brushed my cheek with her hand before turning to her left to open the car’s door.

“Let’s go inside,” she said, quietly.


The house was empty and as soon as the door closed Julie put her arms around my neck. I held her close and since she kept her head down I turned it up to kiss her. Then I gently stroked her bottom and as she felt my hand on it again her mouth opened to protest and I saw a look of fear flash across her face.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “So long as you are a good girl your bottom is safe with me.”

Julie smiled: “I want to be a good girl,” she replied, softly.

We were standing in the hallway and I glanced upstairs and motioned to her that we should climb them. She understood and nodded at me, before leading me to her bedroom.

Once there we undressed each other, then she folded back the bed covers and she climbed into bed, to lie there quite submissively until I joined her a moment later.

Lying next to each other I put an arm under her head, and reached down between her thighs with the other one. Julie was wet, and warm, and very, very ready.

“Are you always this available?”

“No,” she pouted; as I pushed her onto her back before lifting myself up to mount her.

She exhaled loudly as my cock slid into her body and I began the slow, steady rhythmic thrusts into her.

“I want to be a good girl,” Julie whispered in my ear. “Tell me; tell me what you did to me when I was bad. Please, tell me what you did.”

So I told her. Quietly, in her ear, as I thrust my hardness into her, I told her how I had spanked her. How I put her over my knee and lifted her skirt, how I had pulled her knickers down and disciplined her. Of course I left out the fact that I only half pulled her panties down and I thought it better to draw a veil over the little matter of only being able to give her a lighter spanking than she deserved because of her kicking, but I don’t think that Julie cared about such minor details:

“I was bad, she repeated, over and over again, until eventually she came, followed seconds later by my own shuddering climax

“But I’m a good girl now!”

Cinema Spankings: Santo Contra El Cerebro Diabolico

Cinema spankings. . . Don't worry, as I am not going to present you with clips from McLintock yet again. What I am going to do is to use my contacts in the trade to get spanking scenes from mainstream films that you have probably never seen before.

Today's offering is from Santo Contra el Cerebro Diabolico, which translates as the Saint Versus the Evil Brain. This 1950s Mexican film has a well-reared heroine as you can see from the opening sequence. The hero is forced to rescue her from the villains, whereupon madam asks him the obvious and faintly idiotic question: "Are you angry with me?"

When she doesn't get a reply, she asks him to forgive her and still getting no reply she then stamps her foot and utters the immortal line: "Smack me if you want!"

So he does!

That's all for this week folks. I hope that you have enjoyed your first week with Uncle Nick and please return for more of the same on Monday.

Spanking Interviews: Andie

Say hello to Andie, the latest of the Moonglow Maidens, who made her first spanking video on Tuesday. While she was in the studio I took the opportunity to interview her and then I managed to get hold of some OTK video action for your viewing delight. This girl is going to be a star in the future and remember, you saw her here before anyone else on any other site.

Ladies, Andie got in touch with Moonglow and then attended for an informal chat with the owner. A few days later she was paid for her first video shoot. It really is as simple as that, if you have what it takes to be a Moonglow Maiden.

E-mail me for further details

Sit-Spanking

Download this video in full length and full quality.

Welcome to Uncle Nick's Tube - here you can watch highlights of some of the latest spanking videos without having to leave your favourite CP site. Each week I will select a studio and create the player for you. Reload the page and get another clip, or hit the play button again and watch the first clip a second time around.

In The Days Of The Soho Typescripts, Part One

I suspect that I may be one of the last writers of Soho Typescripts still alive and kicking, since most of the others were getting on in years when I started back in the mid-1970s. Since I doubt if anyone under the age of about 50 will even know what a Soho Typescript was, I'll explain that back in the day if an organisation needed to get a copy of a document out in large numbers it was done via a duplicating machine, usually called a Gestetner, after one of the companies that made them. The document was typed on an ordinary typewriter, but with a waxed stencil in place of the usual sheet of paper. This stencil was then placed around the duplicator's drum and about 500 copies could be hank-cranked off before a new stencil had to be produced.

Large runs were produced by an offset-litho printing machine just as they are today, and if only two or three copies were needed then carbon paper could be used in the typewriter. However, a run of a couple of hundred copies was usually a job for the Gestetner machine. Needless to say, the Soho porn merchants all bought duplicators between the wars and set themselves up as small publishers. The merchants in other parts of the country quickly copied them, but no matter where the material was produced, it was always called a Soho Typescript.

What usually happened was that a merchant would buy two or three stories of about 5,000 words each from the writers. An artist was paid to produce, on a stencil, the name that was given to the work and a drawing that was vaguely related to it. The connection between the drawing and the content really depended on how much a merchant wanted to pay. I have known some who had a stack of drawings on stencils which were picked out at random and then a title written at the top once the merchant had enough stories to justify stencilling them up.

The stories in the typescripts always followed a theme, be it straight sex - always called shaggers in the trade, or fladge - flagellation - which is the trade name for spanking, fem-dom, BDSM and the like. The aficionados and aficionadas may like to say that there is a difference between them, but the trade was far more laid back about such nuances. Thus a certain psychotic Maltese lunatic who ran a large outfit in Liverpool once introduced me to one of his henchmen with the immortal words: "This is Nick, he does my fladge."

Having set the scene, as it were, next week I shall return and explain how I became a writer of material for the one-handed readers of Britain.

The Punishment Files

Salina is without doubt a real spring morning of a girl. She has starred in quite a few Moonglow videos and now you can see her in The Punishment Files, a one hour compilation that the studio has just released. Click on the link to watch both male and female disciplinarians in action as they attend to the behaviour of six naughty females, by cane, paddle and open handed over the knee. What more could you want?

The first spanking

Her name was Anita and she was a friend's sister and the first girl that I ever laid across my knee. We were both 15 at the time, so that puts the date at mid to late 1970.

Anita was never my girlfriend as such, but she was one of the first girls that I ever kissed and she would stroke my cock though my trousers. She was also the first girl to ever kiss and gently nibble my neck, something that even today I still find irresistible.

Quite how the spanking came about has faded from memory. I know that for some reason we were alone in her house, and I can remember the actual discipline and its aftermath as if it were yesterday, but the reason for it sadly escapes me. I think that Anita had said something that I disliked and I replied by telling her that she needed her bottom smacking. That was a fairly common thing to say in the England of those days and so was her lightening fast reply: "It would take a man to do that, not a shirt button!"

So far so normal, but something inspired me to take the matter to its logical conclusion. To this day I am not entirely sure what it was, but I concluded in an instant that the saucy young madam was going to learn her place.

We were sitting in Anita's bedroom and I left my chair to stride over to her and then sat down next to her on her bed. I pulled her across my knee and lifted her skirt. She was wearing, and again this image is clear in my mind after almost four decades, a white crew necked sweater, very thin and short sleeved, made of cream lambs' wool. Her skirt was a typical black miniskirt of the day and she wore dark blue knee socks with black shoes that fastened with a buckle to the feet.

She lay quietly across my knee and for the first time I saw a female bottom, encased in sweet panties, just waiting for my attention. The panties were white cotton and had light blue lace around the waist and legs. They were not the skimpy variety that girls wear today but high-waisted and designed to give the wearer the illusion of security.

Of course it was just an illusion because without pausing for thought I placed the fingers of my right hand into the waistband and peeled them down. There, in front of my eyes, was a bare, defenceless, female bottom just waiting its fate.

Anita tried to put her right hand behind herself to cover her bottom but I took it in my left hand and then administrated three firm smacks to her upturned buttocks. That was all I gave her and then I let her go. She sat up and put her arms around my neck and held me tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered into my ear.

That was it. Some years later Anita married a local man and is now a wife, mother and grandmother, but I wonder sometimes if she remembers that far off day in 1970 when I corrected her behaviour in the time-honoured way?

A spanking good life

Welcome to the blog, the aim of which is pretty straightforward: to write about my life as a disciplinarian, and hopefully to make a few bob in the process. The first time that I placed a recalcitrant female across my knee was in 1970 so when I look back on a spanking good life I have several decades of memories to relate. Check back tomorrow and every Monday for an update on that.

Not only that but I was for many years a writer of spanking fiction and later I appeared in several CP epics. So if you have always wanted to know what goes on inside the trade, stick around and I will tell all in my Wednesday features.

Finally, I have links to Moonglow, probably the finest spanking video producers in operation today. I have been given access to their entire catalogue and basically told to help myself, so the video clips that I am creating and will then upload are going to thrill and delight you. Staying on the subject of movies, I will finish off each week by uploading a spanking scene from a mainstream film: and I don't mean the tired old clips that we have all seen a thousand times before. I have been digging in the vaults and I have clips that most enthusiasts have probably not seen.

Who am I? I am an Englishman who was born when Anthony Eden was Prime Minister. I lived in Puebla, Mexico, for about five years where I taught English, before returning to the UK in 2000. I now earn a living as a base and puissant scribbler.

As a child growing up in the England of the 1960s I was surrounded by spanking images. Parents routinely bent their offspring over before slapping their bottoms cherry red, pupils were slippered and caned at school, young women felt their boyfriends' hands on their bottoms when they did something silly - physical correction was regarded as normal.

The television of the day reflected this attitude. Programmes such as the Saint or Bonanza regularly featured a spanking scene and nobody thought that the scenes were in any way out of the ordinary or that the hero should not have spanked the girl. Her behaviour warranted it, that was the view, just as it was the view of the men who in real life had cause to put a woman across their knees: they deserved it. Women also accepted that when they misbehaved they were going to be taken in hand and they understood that this was a part of the correct ordering of society that allowed such things to happen. It is a world that exists today whenever I close my eyes and think back to times that are gone.

Memories... Nostalgia... None of them are what they were in my day...