Being Rose's Toyboy, Part Four

I spanked Rose soundly, but not cruelly. She had not been naughty, exactly, but she had been a bit on the lippy side, and her incipient insolence needed to be nipped in the bud. Nevertheless, so long as madam kept her protests to reasonable levels and did not act in too provocative a manner, I decided that her bottom would be smacked but not intolerably so. I have my liberal moments as I am sure that you are aware by now.

The spanking was methodical and by about the fourth or fifth smack I realised that her struggling had ceased and that she was remaining quietly in position, with only a whimper now and then to mark her distress. As I lifted my arm again I decided that it was time to have a short conversation with madam. Then I brought my arm down in a great swinging arc to leave a delightful handprint on her upturned bottom and immediately I opened my mouth to speak.

"Learning your lesson are you, madam?" My tone was conversational, but the edge in it was obvious to any listener. It was up to Rose to respond properly if she wanted this to end soon. 

"I am a married woman - stop this!" Rose wriggled her bottom in time with her words but, crucially, she made no move to rise from her position over the back of the chair. I decided that her protests were for show and gave her three or four firm, sound smacks across the bare bottom, a bottom that was quickly turning a rather nice shade of deep pink. I idly wondered to myself if that colour would have to change to an angry and fiery red before the afternoon was out, and then I decided that such speculation was a waste of time and with that I raised my arm again to bring the palm down across buttocks that were then clenched fearfully in anticipation of just such a smack.

"Do you really think that I give a shit about your marriage?"

"I'll tell my husband," she wailed, pathetically. "He'll deal with you!"

"Well, he hasn't done a very good job of dealing with you, has he? Doesn't seem to give a shit what you do, does he?"

I only said those words to have something quick to say, and there was no deep thought behind them, but they seemed to have an immediate effect of Rose. She sighed heavily and her whole body then relaxed. On impulse I stopped holding her down for the spanking, and contented myself with keeping a proprietorial hand on the small of her back. Rose did not seek to take advantage of that gesture and continued to lie quietly in position as her spanking continued.

Her legs were close together and on impulse I placed the fingers of my hand between them and opened them to leave her pussy open and glistening to my sight. I licked my index finger and slid it into her body and I was delighted to find that she was wet, and slick, and warm. Rose sighed heavily as my finger slid in and out of that inviting pussy and then I saw that she had balled one hand into a fist and had jammed that fist into her mouth, obviously so as not to give me the satisfaction of making her cry out in pleasure.

"Arch your back," I ordered her.

"Why?"

"Because you are a bitch in heat and that is how a bitch stands when she is about to be mounted. Understand?"

With a cry that was part desire and part helplessness, Rose arched her back to receive the cock that would soon be driving into her. Quickly I unbuckled my trousers and let them fall down. My cock sprang free and I stroked it to full hardness with a few slick pulls. Then I placed the head against the opening to Rose's pussy and drove the cock remorselessly inside her. Pulling out I then slowly drove it into her a second time to leave it this time deep inside her body for a moment.

"Is this how your husband deals with you?" I asked the question as I began to fuck her methodically with slow steady fuck pokes that had her whimpering as each one was driven deep inside her open body.

"No," was all she cried.

There was nothing more to say. Taking hold of Rose's hips I used them as a lever to pull myself back towards her in time to my own hips that were thrusting my cock into her waiting body. Her back remained arched, arched like that of the bitch in heat that she was as slowly, remorselessly, without saying anything further I increased the speed of the fucking. 

Rose began to make low moaning sounds from deep within her as her body began to move in time with mine. I looked down at the bottom that I had just reddened and was pleased to see the marks left by my fingers clearly visible on the right cheek. The sight made my cock even harder and my fuck-pace increased dramatically.

I lost control. I could feel the hot juice building up deep inside my balls, Rose was frantically clenching her pussy muscles to grip me harder, forcing me to drive past those muscles, force them to open to admit my cock into her body, a body that was mine, now, mine because I had taken it.

The hot potent spunk bubbled up and flooded out from me and into Rose. She threw back her head as she felt the juices flooding against her cervix, and her cries at the moment of truth for both of us were genuine and wonderful to hear.

Slowly we untangled ourselves and then we both sank gratefully to the floor. Rose rested her head on my shoulder, and she winced as her bottom touched the hard floor. I laughed at that and she looked at me quizzically.

"Is that it?" She stroked my face as she asked the question and for a moment I was puzzled by it. Had it not been enough for her? That was the question that automatically went through my mind. Rose must have seem my confusion because she spoke again very quietly:

"Will we see each other again or is that it?"

"I was rather hoping that we could see a lot of each other, whenever your husband is not around, I said, giving her a kiss.

Rose purred at my words and snuggled up closer to me.

"We can see each other whenever we want," she said. "Gerald is either at work, playing golf or fast asleep," she added, rather bitterly I thought.

"Excellent news - now then, what about something to eat after all my labours?

"Want me to make you a snack? Let me get dressed and we can go down to the staffroom. I do my cooking there because this place is so small."

"Is there anybody in the college at this time?"

"No, why?"

"Then don't get dressed." Over her protests I stood her up, stripped her of the blouse, bra and stood her out of her skirt and then and sent her off naked with a firm smack to her red rump to make me cheese on toast and a cup of tea.

Give her credit but she got into the swing of things and returned with my snack having put on a large cook's apron that she had found somewhere. Trust me when I say that there is no finer sight than that of a mature woman, with a freshly smacked bottom on display. Especially when she has brought you some eats and is then sitting there quietly, dressed like a pornographer's idea of a servant, whilst you wolf down your snack.

As I polished off the food I reflected that life probably couldn't get much better. Let's face it, what on earth could go wrong with this wonderful new arrangement?

To be continued.

How to take a Pippa Middleton upskirt

The Pippa Middleton upskirt photos are now emerging thick and fast, so it's time for kindly old Uncle Nick to give you a quick low down on taking a nice upskirt shot.

Do not get down on your knees in the hope that your victim will not have been taught how to decant herself properly, because if it is the likes of Pippa that you are after then you are wasting your time. Remember that most photographers will be crowded around the outside of the car with the door on their right. You need to position yourself so that you can shoot between the door and its frame, so the actual door is on your left. Your victim will be concentrating on the pack in front of her and not you. Have the camera focussed at about three feet and click away.

And good luck!

Being Rose's Toyboy, Part Three

I paused for a moment to take in the scene. Behind Rose and against the wall there was a sofa with an armchair next to it, and to my left and against the other wall sat a desk with its chair. I noticed that on the desk were photos of Rose's husband and three children. I would like to report that I felt a twinge of guilt at the sight, but I will not lie: my brain was in the process of switching off and my cock was about to take over. I was distracted by the thought that he was probably off porking his secretary and then I turned to look in Rose's direction and my cock took over full operational control of my body.

Rose stood in the middle of the tiny room as if rooted to the spot. She held her hands folded in front of her, with her back ramrod straight and her head slightly back. Her mouth was open to show her teeth and her eyes were like slits as they watched me with a passionate intensity. Without a word I took the two strides that brought me directly in front of her and then I idly ran the back of my fingers up and over each of her nipples. As I did so I felt them harden and glancing down I saw that the two delightful mounds were straining against the thin silk of her white brassiere.

"Stop it," she said, heavily.

"No."

"I told you yes," she replied, making no attempt to stop me.

I turned her around and encircled her waist with my left arm. My right hand continued to explore her heavy breasts and my cock was pressed into her firm, ripe buttocks. I breathed heavily into her neck and she allowed her head to fall backwards so that it rested against my shoulder.

"I am your employer," she breathed quietly.

"Do I look as if I care?"

"You don't, do you? I can tell your sort," she replied, with a hint of desperation in her voice. Then she started to push against me to try and break my hold on her waist.

It would have been easy to overcome her resistance, which was nothing but an act, when all was said and done. However, I had all ready recognised this madam as a ball breaker of the first order. At least, she would have been a ball breaker if I had given her half a chance, but that was something that I was not so foolish to do. I decided there and then that this madam needed to be brought quickly to heel. Luckily, she gave me just the opening that I was praying for...

"I could dismiss you for this," she said, defiance now clear in her voice.

"Yes," I told her quietly, my mouth close to her ear. "You could, and maybe you will after what I have finished doing to you."

"What's that?"

"I am going to bend you over and lift up your nice skirt. After I have finished admiring your no doubt expensive panties I am going to pull them down and then I am going to smack your bare bottom until I decide that you know your place!"

Giving Rose time to digest that information would have been counter-productive, so tightening my grip around her waist, I lifted her an inch or so off the ground and then I used my free hand to pull up her skirt as I let her feet drop to the floor. Before she knew what was happening the skirt was around her waist and it was time for act two of the disciplinary drama to begin.

The sofa was no good as a stage for that drama's final act because it was only a two-seater so it wasn't big enough.  The armchair had large arms so I was not able to sit on it and get madam into the traditional position across my knee. Then I realised the answer and without further ado I picked Rose up another inch off the floor again then walked with her like that the two or three paces that brought my to behind the chair. I dropped her down and then pushed her body over the back of the chair. She sprawled across the seat, her buttocks nicely upturned, and I placed my left hand firmly into the small of her back to hold her in position. The curtain was about to rise on the final act!

I suppose that I expected Rose to start wriggling and squealing, but she didn't. She moved her body in a half-hearted attempt to break free, but she made no attempt to either speak or put her hands behind her to save her bottom which was now only protected by a delightfully thin layer of white silk which admittedly covered the target area completely.

"Now then, madam," I announced. "This bottom is going to smart."

With that I raised my arm and brought it down firmly, but not with the full power of my arm behind it, across that lusciously upturned bottom.

"Nooooo!" That smack was all Rose needed to galvanize her into action to save her bottom. She desperately flung an arm behind her but all I did was grab the wrist and fold it into the small of her back where I held it out of the way. I then placed my fingers in the waistband of her knickers and stripped them from her buttocks to leave them turned inside out at mid-thigh. Then I raised my hand again and brought it down across the helpless, bare bottom that lay before me.

Continued here.

Being Rose's Toyboy, Part Two

To say that my first day at Rose's college was less than auspicious is putting it mildly. Not that I failed to deliver a lesson, rather because I failed to quickly get my hands on Rose who spent the time that I was there strutting purposefully around on her fetishistically high heels, still firm buttocks moving sensuously in her fitted, knee-length black skirt as she walked. Given that the skirt had a seriously wide leather belt on it into which a white satin long-sleeved blouse was tucked, the effect she created was authoritative to say the least.

Certainly as far as her minions were concerned she cut an authority figure and she seemed to enjoy sending them off to do her bidding, especially the girls. I noticed that she would often roll her eyes at something a girl said to her before responding brusquely to whatever had been said. With the men she was slightly better behaved, but I suspected that with them she didn't feel the need to climb on her high horse since they were all so pussy-whipped anyway, with their podgy tums, V-necked sweaters and polyester ties. She even tried it on with me, but I just grinned at her before turning my back and returning to my class.

That was what started the trouble because madam waylaid me in the staffroom after the lesson had ended. I was the only one in there as I poured myself a coffee. My back was to the door so I didn't see Rose come in, but I remember smelling her delicious flowery perfume so I knew who it was and I turned around to greet a face that was trying its best to look thunderous.

"You turned you back on me, earlier on." It was a statement of simple fact, and I merely shrugged by way of reply.

Placing her left hand on her hip, Rose wagged her right index finger in my direction. Her eyes were sparkling, but she somehow managed to keep her lips pursed in a pretence at real annoyance.

"If you do that again, my lad, I'll have to slap your face" she went on, jabbing the blood red nail of that damned finger into my chest to make her point.

"If you do, I will have to bend you over and slap you somewhere else," I told her quietly.

Rose opened her mouth to reply and just at that moment one of the dickless dwarfs in her employ entered the room and made for the coffee machine. Rose turned to leave immediately, glancing over her shoulder at me as she left the room:

"I will get the book that you need in a few minutes - wait for me outside the flat, please," she said as the door closed behind her swiftly marching frame.

I had no idea what she was talking about and assumed that the mythical book was just a ploy to get me to a flat - but where was that? The college secretary swiftly pointed out the door to me and explained as she put on her coat to go home that a couple of small offices and a bathroom had been blocked off from the rest of the building and turned into a tiny flat which Rose used when she was working late.

As the last of the staff and students left the college, I went through the door and up a very short flight of stairs to a small landing that had three doors leading off it. One was open and led to a tiny bathroom that just about had space for a shower, sink and toilet and the other two doors were firmly shut.

At least that was the case until one opened to reveal Rose standing in the doorway of the very small office that had been refurbished into a sitting room. Looking me straight in the eye she stepped backwards as I walked towards her. She stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily as I closed the door very firmly and then turned to face her.

To be continued.

Spanking Interviews: Raven Red

Those of you who are fans of Raven Red and her blog will want to listen to this spanking interview. In it Raven tells us about how she watched  two naughty girls receive well-earned tannings  many years ago...

Rachel's Second Spanking Interview

I interviewed Rachel at the end of May and the recording proved quite popular so I asked Rachel if she would do another. Quite a few people expressed their doubts about her so I put those questions to Rachel herself and let her answer in her own words. The interview then went on to discuss the spankings that she received from her parents, and all in all I think that we have a worthy second spanking interview for your listening pleasure.

Being Rose's Toyboy, Part One

Did I ever tell you that I was a toyboy once? It was 1989 when I fell into the clutches of Rose, who was in her late 40s and the owner of an English language school in London. I was 32 at the time and had signed up to do a Certificate in Further Education at a scratty polytechnic in south London, my reason being that the course, which qualified me to work as a further education lecturer, came with a mandatory, and seriously tasty, grant. 

I was drinking a coffee in a rather nice place just off Jermyn Street the day that I met Rose. I had noticed the buxom blonde lady of a certain age who sat at a nearby table who was wearing a rather too severe business suit with one of those 1980s blouses that had a large frilly bow at the neck, as if that feminine touch made up for the rest of the butch ensemble. The high heels were nice and the legs that were encased in sheer black nylon seemed to go right up to the lady's neck, and all in all she had about her that ice-maiden air that just makes me want to grab any women who has it, yank her over my knee, and teach her not to even think that way around me in the old traditional way.

She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye and caught me eyeing up her legs so she decided to treat me with one of those withering glares that foolish women occasionally use on me. I cocked my head to one side and let my tongue out of my mouth before moving it side to side in an obvious sort of muff diving way. To her credit, madam laughed out loud and after that it was plain sailing.

"So, what does a cheeky young fellow like you do for a living?" Madam enquired after I had moved over to her table.

"I'm a student - postgraduate - getting a certificate so I can ride the teachers' gravy train."

She laughed at that and asked me some more questions, occasionally crossing and uncrossing her legs, and sitting slightly sideways with her back arched so that her large breasts were made even more obvious. With her head cocked to the side she fingered the curls in her collar length hair, and every minute or so she would gently touch one of her pearl earrings. She listened intently to my words and laughed at my jokes, her mouth open to show her pearly white teeth.  It was quite an expert display and it gave me a serious hard-on in a pretty short order.

Rose, for that was her name, reached down and pulled out the two shirts that I had bought that day. She held them up to consider first one and then the other with her lips pursed.

"Do you buy all your shirts in Jermyn Street?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Wear this one on Monday," Rose said, holding a blue and white shirt aloft.

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere, yet," Rose paused and smiled at me. "I am offering you a teaching post at my English language school, and I want you to look nice."

"For the students?"

"Them too."

Thus it came to pass that an historian who knew nothing about language tuition ended up teaching English to a wealthy collection of Arabs and Latin-Americans for a few hours a week. The rest of the time was spent in bed with Rose, but before that could happen the correct order had to be established. That was done the following Monday when I turned her over my knee and put paid to her incipient nonsense, and that is a story for the next episode.

Continued here.

How a sex scandal unfolds: the Ryan Giggs Affair

A sex scandal is a bit like watching a (soap) opera in four parts, and in Professor Nick's lesson today we shall look at those four parts and apply them to the case of Ryan Giggs to see how they unfold.

Act one is when the press learns that the shit may be about to hit the fan. Something will have happened to tip them off and in the case of Giggs this was almost certainly the rising crescendo of gossip surrounding his affair with Natasha, his sister-in-law. The press cannot print the story, yet, but what they will start to do is move in like hungry wolves around a little lost lamb...

Act two involves the hacks flying a kite to see if the wind catches it and it flies. Names will have been discussed and the most likely candidates approached to see if they will talk. In the Case of Giggs, Imogen Thomas must have seemed like manna from heaven, as being a B-list celebrity she was a publicity hound, anyway. The point about running her story is that it is like shaking the branches of an apple tree in September - you never know how much fruit will fall.

Act three is where we are now. Natasha Giggs has told her story, obviously as an act of revenge, but probably following some serious inducements from the press. The hacks will be hoping that yet more women will emerge so that the story can continue to be developed.

Act four is coming up soon. That is when everyone piles in and the story acquires a life all of its own. The hacks will rework the story is various ways to keep it alive, which is pretty much what I am doing with this posting. When we get fully into the final act any old rumour will be printed because the victim is in no condition to complain, having been thoroughly grilled by just about everyone. The press will sell more papers, this blog will get more hits and, hopefully, more people will then go on to visit my wonderful clips' site where any number of sexy videos are to be found - some featuring me!

Has equality actually made British men impotent?

Has equality damaged the nation's sex life? The argument is that with so many women in senior management positions, their power in the office has led to the creation of a breed of neutered, pussy whipped curs that is all they can find for the bedroom. As usual, it seems, women want to have their cake and eat it: they want to be alpha females in the boardroom and sex kittens in the bedroom. Their men should be obsequious at work and tigers between the sheets. As I said, that's women for you.

Now, part of me thinks that all this is ludicrous. Take a walk down any East Lancashire mill town street on a Friday night and watch the young men hammering hell out of one another and then tell me that we are all metrosexual now. Or take a trip to the Bigg Market in Newcastle where the little dollymops ooze out of skimpy finery that is designed to ward off other females and catch the male eye, and then tell me that we have lost our balls.

On the other hand, it isn't about us, is it? It is about the middle class, and as a breed their males have never had any fucking balls to speak of, so what is there to moan about? The middle class consists of people who haven't got the balls to be workers nor the brass to be gaffers and that is why the rest of us treat them with such derision.

As for the corporate women, they have have the world as they wanted it, stuffed to the gills with the craven, the gutless, and the obsequious. If they want something a bit better they can either travel to places like Liverpool, or they can buy a nice vibrator and dream.

Term Ends: The Secretary's Lesson

 

I have broken down Term Ends into four parts for those of you who prefer your clips short and to the point. In this clip Julie and I are sitting in the staffroom pondering the remains of the day. My character tells her that she has been responsible for a lot of the day's problems and that she deserves to be punished. After some argument, this foxy MILF is sent to the punishment room to bare her buttocks for the correction that we all know she deserved.

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Term Ends

I was a handsome devil back in 1995, wasn't I? I doubt if the four girls that I spanked and caned on that far-off day really had the inclination to consider my finer points since they were too busy trying to save their backsides from the blistering that I administered to each and every one of them.You can read the full story behind the shoot at this link, so let me just give you a brief summary now:

First up was Alison who presented her Scouse rump for my tender mercies and admitted ruefully afterwards that whatever doubts she had entertained about my ability as a disciplinarian had been completely satisfied. Then I dealt with Karen, who turned up for the shoot in a red thong under her school uniform. Obviously I could not let that breach of etiquette go unpunished. Then we had Susan who was making her first and last spanking video. I have often wondered why she chose to retire after making her début with me... Finally there was Julie, a mature woman who played the school secretary who needed to have her buttocks bared for the kiss of the cane.

Over the next four weeks I will present each section as an individual clip, but why waste time when you can download the whole twenty minute epic right now?

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Helen Wood has joined Twitter

Helen Wood, the prostitute who put a nice shine on Wayne Rooney's knob before going on to jam a dildo up some actor's bum has joined Twitter. Click this link to follow her tweets and if you want to be really nice you can send her a tweet yourself asking her to be interviewed for this old blog of mine. A spanking interview with Helen Wood sounds like the sort of thing that I would enjoy doing and you lot would enjoy hearing. So drop her a tweet and jolly her along!

God, I am getting desperate for postings.

Spanked in a car

Does anybody know anything about this photograph? I have never seen it before and am curious to know its provenance. Obviously we are supposed to believe that the pin-striped passenger is so wealthy that his chauffeur drives him around, which is why he is able to sit in the back of the car. One wishes that the vehicle did not have quite so much rust on it which rather spoils the illusion of luxury, but I suppose we can't have everything.

If you know anything then please leave a comment in the box.

Was Natalie Cassidy spanked by Adam Cotrell?

Word is coming in that former Eastenders star Natalie Cassidy may have been spanked by her boyfriend Adam Cotrell with a slipper. The couple had a fight which led to Adam leaving the house and Natalie calling the cops and Adam being arrested.

Now this website is reporting that the prosecutor in the ensuing case alleged that Adam struck Natalie "with a slipper on the upper leg." Alas, the site offers no links so as yet it is unclear if the upper leg is a euphemism for the bottom, but the fact that he used a slipper suggests that it is.

More when we have it. 

Cinema Spankings: Stronger Than Desire

Here's a vintage spanking for you as Walter Pidgeon take Rita Johnson across his knee to teach her the error of her ways. In case you are wondering, the action takes place in a  railway carriage.

To the memory of Flick Colby

Flick Colby has died at the still young age of 65. Nobody under about 50 will know who she was, but to gentlemen of a certain age her dance routines still have the power to bring mist to the eyes and a tilt to the trousers.

She was the lead dancer and then choreographer for Pan's People, the dance troupe who filled a spot on Top of the Pops every week. The sixties didn't really swing as far as television was concerned and those girls were the nearest we got to erotica on the box. They certainly gave me some pretty nice blue veiners in my pubescent days.

Have a safe journey to the other side, Flick, and thank you for making my youthful years so much more interesting.

Post-War American Outdoor Spanking

Obviously a staged photo, but rather a nice one for all that. Judging from the clothes I would say the United States in the early 1950s, but apart form that I know nothing about the photo. I quite like the slight smirk on the man's face and the rather nervous smile that the girl has.

What Bottoms Are For, Part Two

 

What Bottoms Are For was one of the classic spanking videos of the very early 1980s. The beauty of it was that the girls on the receiving end of the spankings behaved as normal girls should; that is to say they kicked, wriggled and cried. The clip that I am presenting today shows the two girls receiving a farewell spanking each. Then the master of the house  orders the younger girl to strip and then puts her across his knee again for another buttock blistering.

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Janus may have problems with its internet address

As we announced recently, the Janus shop in London has closed its doors and the outfit now runs on-line. Alas, someone came up with the idea of registering the internet address as Janusworldwide.com, and Janus Worldwide just happens to be the name of a pretty heavyweight investment bank.

If it comes to a pissing contest between the spankers and the bankers, my guess is that the former will lose out. Better change the address quickly, chaps.

Spanking Interviews: Rachel

Rachel is from the Telford in the English Midlands and she is 26. In this interview she will talk about the night when she and her friend Lisa were both spanked by Lisa's father, Roland. The event happened in 2002 when the two girls were both 17.

This is probably the best spanking interview that I have conducted so far and I just know that you are all going to love Rachel's account of that spring evening when a a bonfire was lit under her skirt:

Ladies, are you willing to be interviewed about a spanking that you have received? If so drop  me a line and let's arrange to record your memories for the delectation of the listening public!

Janus and Gordon Sergeant

The Janus shop in London has sadly closed its doors and the outfit now runs as an on-line enterprise only. Looking at the website there must be some doubt as to how long even that will continue since it looks pretty amateurish, but let's wish them luck.

The site contains a jokey eulogy to Gordon Sergeant, the fictional editor of Janus. The character was dreamed up because the Janus contact magazine needed a name to put on its cover and someone thought of that name.

The Janus magazine was headed by Paul van Ocker until his death in the early 1980s. Shortly before that happened Janus set up a contact magazine called Privilege, which in those days was a duplicated A6 magazine which came out quarterly and was only available on subscription. The half dozen or so pages of each issue were taken up with contact adverts, but the inside front cover always had a message from Gordon Sergeant, as editor. Later when Janus starting running spanking parties this figure was the advertised organiser, and it became a standing joke at every Janus event to see what the latest excuse was to explain his non-attendance.

We can understand why Janus decided to announce his death because it allows them to look forward to their on-line future under his equally mythical nephew, Tarquin. (God know why porn merchants want to pretend that they are all to the the manor born. The only manor this lot ever knew were the dreary suburbs of outer London.) The problem is that the Janus site would have been fine a decade ago, but today it is so far behind the times as to be laughable. To make matters worse the site is still unfinished, with links going nowhere and text that is badly in need of an editor who has English as a first language. An online shop for (sic) purveyors of erotica to consenting adults -  Alan van Ockers would never have allowed such a mangled bastardisation of the tongue.

Still and for all that this is still Janus and we wish them well. It is just that on the basis of when we have seen so far the site will shortly follow Gordon Sergeant into oblivion.

Thought for the Day: Ryan Giggs

Ryan Giggs is a hell of a guy. Just look at his record: seven FA Cup finals, five League Cup finals, three Champions League finals and one Big Brother quarter finalist!

Rock on Ryan!

On my spanking philosophy

I have had some nice praise from Karl Friedrich Gauss over at Chross' forum, so I want to spend a moment thanking him for that. He did seem to think that I was only able to meet women for spanking in Mexico where, "women were perhaps more used to that sort of treatment" than in the UK. It is a nice theory, but I have never had any problems finding women in either the UK or Mexico, so let me dedicate tonight's posting to explaining why that is the case.

First, I want to lay out again my basic philosophy of spanking life. I do not go looking for girls to spank, I go looking for girls and then I spank them. When madam does something particularly inane, which being female rarely takes long, then I tell her to behave and warn her that a repeat performance will earn her a trip across my knee. At that point madam if perfectly at liberty to tell me that she will not accept that and many have. Trust me when I say that in those cases I sincerely hope that the door does not bang her arse as she flounces through it on her way out of my life.

So the rule is fuck or fuck off, but to leave it at that would be to leave you with only half the story. How did I meet the women that I ended up spanking? Am I this James Bond figure that woman fall over? Hardly, I am basically a working class bloke from Manchester who worked throughout my twenties and did not go to university until I was pushing thirty. My secret is a thick skin and the fact that I worked as a cinema projectionist!

Working in the cinemas meant that I did not have to get up very early and thus I could stay out late every night, which is what I did. I would prowl the Manchester nightspots every single night hunting pussy. When I found a likely looking girl we would have a fling that lasted on average about five weeks and then I would start my hunting all over again. I reckon that I had about four or so flings a year and if you add to that the one night stands, and leg overs in the back of the car, then we are talking about around a dozen women a year who had their pussies stretched by me during my twenties.

However, and here is the important point, there were about another three or four dozen every year that I went out with once or twice and who never became my lovers, and who were never spanked by me. Not only that but many of the lovers never had their bottoms smacked, either because they were casual fucks or because they did as they were told and I never had to smack their bottoms.

I used to carry a little tin of vapour rub in my pocket to smear on my top lip if the female I was with was a bit rank in the body odour department... Many is the time that if I went out with one particular guy and one of us would suddenly become weary and the other would clap him on the shoulder and say "Come on, you are not hear to enjoy yourself: you are here for a leg-over!" With that the weary one would get up and start to prowl the disco one more time. Come on, fellas, you know as well as I do that you don't have to like a woman to fuck her: what we are after is a nice tight pussy. It is just that I took the hunt to fairly extreme lengths, and that is why my tally is so high.

In Mexico it is true that I was popular amongst the brown-skinned bangers because I was a white Englishman and that made me very exotic. It is also true that Mexican women are only too happy to progress horizontally and I managed to grab quite a few students that way. What that actually meant was that I probably spanked less women in Mexico than I had in England because the women over there are actually rather nice and obedient. Let's face it, if a woman does as she is told and only opens her mouth to put your cock in it, would you be so nasty to her as to deprive her of the ability to sit down for the rest of the day? Perish the thought!

A very good friend of mine who I have told you about is called Svetlana and she once said to me that women are for sex and men are to be used. Now come on, men, what's the content of a wallet or two if the pussy is nice and tight? That is the way that I was and to a great extent still am. If women want me to spend time and money on them then they will accept the basic rule which is that I have the last word.

If they break that rule then they get spanked. Or they fuck off. One of the two.

When Bernard Brewer spanked Sandra Hilder

 

Well, it had to happen sooner or later: an authentic spanking report coupled with a genuine photograph of the event. This pretty unique incident happened on the 4th May 1967 when American sailor Bernard (Bud) Brewer (23) put his Australian girlfriend, Sandra Hilder (20) across his knee  to teach her the error of her ways in the time honoured fashion.

The full story you can read above, but what I want to know is what happened to Bud and Sandra afterwards? She seems to have accepted the spanking and the reports indicate that all was well between them, so did they live happily ever afterwards or not?
 

Double Discipline

 

What could be nicer than the sight of a pretty girl bent over a sofa with her knickers down to receive a leathering across her bare and defenceless bottom? How about two girls bent over together? Now that is very nice indeed especially as they whimper and kick to avoid the remorseless descent of the stinging leather.

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Susan Bor

An Order of the Burning Buttocks is hereby awarded to Mrs Susan Bor, the Royal Bank of Scotland's Directrix of Group Resourcing, whatever that is. As the author of Susan's on-line profile which has suddenly become very popular on the web tells us, the RBS is synonymous with "the greedy, fat cat bankers, epitomised by Sir Fred Goodwin, who have taken our money and gambled it recklessly."

Not that sexy Susie would ever do anything like that, of course. Perish the thought of her with a "greedy fatcat" like Fred! No, our Susie has reached the giddy corporate heights under her own steam. Just look at her if you doubt that: you can just bet that she goes like a steam engine, can't you?

No, this Order of the Burning Buttocks is awarded because Susie just oozes bedroom sensuality and comes over in her photos as a sexy little minx who needs to be taken firmly in hand. With that in mind it only remain for me to say:

Come here, you saucy young madam: you know that you deserve this!

Jane Fonda versus Pippa Middleton: who has the finer bum?

Jane Fonda may be 73 but she still carries a nicely rounded and seriously smackable pair of buttocks on her. As of course does the lovely Pippa Middleton about whom we have spoken many times over the past couple of weeks.

So, gentlemen, who has the finest rump? Here they are, both arrayed in clinging white dresses for your delectation and delight. Which one would you upend give the chance?

A public spanking for Dianne Piper at LSU

Just because something appeared in the Weekly World News doesn't mean that it isn't true, and this story about the spanking of Professor Dianne H. Piper (43) by Richard Nelson at Louisiana State University in 1999 was also reported in the Orlando Sentinel.

It seems that Dianne was angling for some leave of absence from the university and acting dean Nelson thought that she was trying it on. So he told her that she was being a bad girl and then he put her across his knee and demonstrated just what happens to bad girls. To make matters even sweeter, another academic "sat idly by" as Dianne received her just deserts.

Quiet what the outcome of all this was is unclear since we cannot find any more reports, but we trust that Dianne at least learned to be a good girl once Richard Nelson let her up.

Thanks: Richard Windsor

Natasha Gray, a teacher worth knowing!

Gorgeous, isn't she with her smackable rear-end and bedroom eyes? Natasha Gray is the name and  PE teaching is her game at Manor Community College in Cambridge.

One man who opposed Natasha's extra-curricular modelling career was Ben Slade - that's him on the left, looking very fetching indeed in his Springtime for Hitler shirt. Normally hardly anyone would take much notice of the likes of Ben, but in this case people had to at least pretend to be interested as for some reason he is the school's headmaster.

Ben tried to get Natasha sacked, but we are pleased to report that he failed, and that Natasha still provides hard-ons at the school.

What has this got to do with this blog and its theme? Absolutely nothing, but when you are as stuck for a posting as I am at the moment, then digging up this 2009 tale of a beddable bird and her podgy, balding tormentor is just manna from heaven.

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Imogen Thomas

An Order of the Burnish Buttocks is awarded to the lovely Miss Imogen Thomas for turning up at the High Court dressed like the town bawd. The Guardian got it wrong when it reported that Imogen's dress had "the right note of guilelessness" because she oozed sleazy sexuality, especially when viewed from the rear.

Frankly that bottom in that dress is begging to be kissed by the cane, so it only remains for us to say:

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

The Super Injunctions Scandal

This blog is all about providing its readers with a spot of titillation, which hopefully will lead to hard cocks and moist panties all round. If a few of you then decide to visit my clips' store and download something nice, then squeezing out a good dollop of lube and stroking one off as you watch it play that is all to the good.

That said, I can do a serious posting if I want to, and right now that is exactly what I want to do.

The political scandal surrounding the  issuing of court injunctions banning the naming of quite a few high profile celebrities who have been caught with their trousers down is growing by the day. Parliament must act to pass a freedom of speech measure that will stop judges making up laws on the hoof.

In the meantime the celebrities who are cheerfully spending thousands of pounds on lawyers' fess really have two options open to them:

The first is that they can stop paying whores to stick vibrators up their bums, and they can live quietly with their wives as pussy whipped dogs should.

The second option that they have is to tell the press to publish and be damned and when their wives kick up a fuss they can adopt the Wayne Rooney approach. It will be recalled that when Colleen, his missus, went ballistic about Wayne's extra-curricular shagging, he basically reminded the good lady that her continued presence  on the gravy train was conditional upon remaining his wife. Then he told her to shut the fuck up...

Gentlemen, pray adopt the Wayne Rooney approach, stop feeding the lawyers and just grow a pair, OK?

How to spot an internet fake

The internet is crawling with wannabes and fakes. I cannot give you much advice on how to deal with the former, but since I have just seen off a fake, I reckon that I am pretty much an expert in spotting those people, hence tonight's bit of wisdom.

What is the difference between them? The fakes are on-line constructs, usually men pretending to be women so that they can get their rocks off at your expense. The wannabes are real people who either lose their nerve at the last minute or are prick teasers who get all moist at the anguish that they cause. Raven Red was duped by a wannabe last year, as was I. Hers was a man who lost his nerve when he realised that a real live woman was about to descend upon him, whereas I spent the merry month of May last year becoming involved with a woman who got her kicks from taking industrial quantities of cock up her, and then trying to prick tease me with her exploits. Spotting these people is difficult if not impossible and the best you can hope for is not to get mad but to get even, which is what I do every time I give out a link to my little prick teaser.

By and large you can spot a fake almost from the start, if 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:

1. 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, and if you doubt that just ask yourself how many 18 year old girls, say, are willing to make all the sexy running that this one is doing with you. Just doesn't ring true does it? Remember, people, that if something is too good to be true then it usually is.

2. How many friends does your new playmate have on Facebook? A dozen or so? 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 - it is the way that real girls are, and that is one thing that the fakes 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 don't have a lot of friends and photos, but they are the exception. However, the fakes never have many of either.

3. 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. Don't 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 don't get caught out again!

Three Tannings by Tim Holt

Tim Holt is not a name that comes easily to anyone's mind, but he was a well-known B-picture star of the 1940s and administered three cinema spankings to two starlets. Martha Hyer in Thunder Mountain and then again in Rustlers felt his heavy hand, before the curiously named Jeff Donnell went across his knee in Stagecoach Kid.

Chross turned these clips up and posted about Mr. Holt and his activities, but I thought that it would be a nice idea to bolt the three spanking scenes together into one clip for your delectation and delight!

Pippa Middleton shows her tits!

Could the rumours that Pippa Middleton is seriously considering the recent offer to star in a porn video be true? Five million dollars is a lot of money for anyone, so let's hope that she is tempted.

In the meantime we have a very nice tit shot to keep you amused, and if the waiting proves too much for you and your chopper, just remember to listen to your oldest and closest friend:

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Smacked on the Bed

This clip is for all you lovers of traditional home discipline. What could be more traditional than having a naughty girl face down on a bed to have her bare bottom smacked? The lecture that accompanies the smacking leaves the girl tear stained and fully obedient to her uncle's wishes.

You cock is telling you to click this link!

Public Paddlings In Las Vegas

Go to the Hofbrauhaus in Las Vegas and order a short, and then bend over for a whack with a good old American spanking paddle. These three girls did and just watch them jump as the wood hits the rumps.

Order of the Burning Buttocks: A Brummie Painter

We don't know the name of the girl who decided to go all artistic on her boyfriend's car, but we sincerely hope that she is still eating her meals standing up and sleeping on her tummy. If ever an hysterical little madam needed taking in hand it is this one.What had the poor, long-suffering fellow done, anyway, other than presumably comment on Pippa Middleton's luscious bottom? 

The photo was grabbed in Birmingham on Wednesday and the hunt is now on for the car's owner and his hopefully tearful girlfriend.

In the meantime this blog awards an Order of the Burning Buttocks to the unknown artist:

Come here you hysterical little girl: you know that you deserve this!

Pippa Middleton to star in porn video

It's hard to believe that just two weeks ago we all tuned in to the royal wedding and got the Pippa Middleton porn video thrown in for free. Just to prove that we are not the only ones who admired Pippa's pornographic posterior, a major American porn company has offered her a massive $5,000,000 to appear in one of their productions - and she can have her pick of partners! What's the betting that she will choose Ron Jeremy, pictured above receiving a tribute from some of his fans?

TV Spankings: Rawhide

A damned fine television spanking from this 1960 episode of Rawhide. In spite of being told that there are a couple of drunken Indians about, the girl wanders of the trail and is waylaid by them, so husband rescues her and then applies correction to the traditional seat of learning. By the way, the very young cowboy watching the proceedings is Clint Eastwood.

Thought for the Day: Super Injunctions

If you are a footballer, B-list actor or crap comedian, there are two ways to avoid having to take out a super injunction at a cost of at least £50,000. The first is to keep your dick in your trousers and do not pay whores to stick dildos up your bum or have them smack your bottom, no matter how naughty you have been. The second is to adopt the fuck it principle which has stood me in good stead for years. Let people say what they want,  and let the papers print what they wish. If you do that then it will all blow over in a day or so.

However, if you are unable to keep your prick under control and are determined to waste your money on injunctions,  then you are truly fucked in this day and internet age. For the truth will out and the laughter will go on for weeks.

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Stephanie, the Stripping Stewardess

I am pleased to award an Order of the Burning Buttocks to Stephanie, the stripping air hostess who set all our pulses racing back in 2008 when her two videos first emerged. I have joined them together so you can see Stephanie in action for yourself.

She worked for a French airline called AOM which went bust in 2001, so the videos were obviously made before then. In the first one the pilot takes his hands off his joystick to inspect her twin engines, and then in the second clip her cockpit is inspected to see if it is air worthy.

Stephanie: you know that you deserve this!

On Opening the Gates of Hell

I am very loyal to my friends. They can be on-line chums like K who write to me from time to time, or people that I am close to in real life like Raven or Svetlana. In fact, if you are a friend then I can usually forgive your little errors, especially if you not only apologise, but stand your ground afterwards. Doing a runner whilst screaming sorry over your shoulder is not a good idea as it leaves me thinking that you don't really mean it.

Let me give you an example of this attitude at work, and we shall use Svetlana to illustrate the theme. I thought about her the other day as it is now exactly a year since a rather foolish little slapper tried some prick teasing games with me. I remember that when I told the tale to Sveta she hooted with laughter as she was most impressed by the fact that a female had managed to put one over on yours truly. Trust me it takes a lot to impress Svetlana...

Sveta and I first met in about 1990 when she was one of the first of the Russian whores who now bless London with their presence. She didn't speak much English back in those days and I had the the job of driving her and some other Russian trollops around the capital from hotel to hotel. However, a lack of English was not the main reason why I acted as the tarts' driver, that had more to do with the fact that within weeks of arriving in England our Slavic friends had acquired a well-deserved reputation for chicanery, so the classier agencies hired drivers to keep an eye on them.

Bless her, but she was always trying to pull fast ones, and usually sought to involve me in the deal, but I never went along with her wheezes. I was getting paid cash in hand, and the agency manageress would tell one of the girls to give me a freebie at least once a week, so why should I make waves? The only thing that Svetlana could realistically offer me as an inducement was herself, so it amused me to ask the manageress to give me Sveta for my freebie.

Obviously she hated me for that, which was fine because I didn't like her all that much at the time, either. On the other hand you don't have to like a woman to fuck her so long as she has a nice juicy pussy. Come on, fellows, you know it's the truth.

Gradually Sveta stopped sniping at me and I stopped teasing her for having to give me for free that which she had tried to offer as a bribe and eventually we became friends. For years afterwards whenever I was in London we would meet up and I would buy her dinner in a nice restaurant, and she would then go to work on her back, or doggie-style, depending on my mood that night. However, what she never did was try to pull any more fast ones because she knew that it wouldn't work.

All this brings me in a roundabout sort of way to the events of last May and to a girl who did try it on and who got away with it for three or four days until she gave her game away with her fat, stupid mouth. You can read the whole sorry saga at this link, but for the purposes of this tale I just need to say that I told the story to Svetlana and her hoots of laughter were enough to waken the dead.

 

"So you give up time for girl who does not pay in proper manner," gloated Svetlana.

"Yes."

"You give girl taste of belt?"

"She lives miles away. Have you any idea how much it costs to fill up an XJS?"

"You have Jaguar car?"

"Er, yes."

"You want give me taste of belt?"

I couldn't stop laughing. Actually, the car belonged to a friend of mine, but I did have the use of it and didn't want to overtax poor Sveta's brain with extraneous information.

So there you are. Play straight with me, and I will be your pal and will play straight with you. Fuck with me and I will crucify you. That attitude extends to my pals who seek my help. So for instance, if Raven had been unhappy over the past two weeks because of what people had been saying about her and if that unhappiness had been exacerbated  by a blog posting then obviously I would be very annoyed on her behalf. That has not happened of course, so we are just talking hypothetically.

However, if it did happen, then I would open the gates of Hell.

Cinema Spankings: Sissi

Rather a nice spanking scene from a 1957 German film. As for me, I am having a lazy night!

Kim's Caning

Kim has been a very naughty girl indeed, and her long-suffering uncle feels that the only answer is a traditional, bare-bottomed caning.Kim is unhappy at this and protests vigorously, before eventually bending over like a good little girl should to allow her defenceless buttocks to feel the kiss of the cane. 

Your cock is telling you to click this link!

Order of the Burning Buttocks: Pippa Middleton Again!

With thanks to Raven Red, photos are emerging which prove that this blog was right to award an Order of the Burning Buttocks to Pippa Middleton. Now we award it to her again on the basis of this frankly disgusting photo that has emerged showing her grinding her luscious rump into some fellow's groin. On that basis we award her yet another OBB for being the sauciest young minx that we have ever seen.

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

Policewoman Spanked in 1981

Does anybody else remember this quite fascinating case from 1981? It made all the papers at the time since it involved a policewoman named Susan Jarvis (19), who claimed that  Inspector David Henley (38) had bent her over and smacked her bare bottom. He was acquitted of the dastardly deed, and given that passage of time I was wondering if anyone had any more information on the case?

Cinema Spankings: Una Bala Marcada

In this 1972 Spanish horse opera, Peter Lee Lawrence plays a gunslinger who has been hired to go up against a town's despotic ruler. Obviously he and Maria Pia Conte's character know each other, hence the animosity between them. I have edited the spanking clip down to remove a section where he and  Maria each tell the shopkeeper to serve the other first as it seemed tedious.

Eventually Peter asks for a box of .45 cartridges, whereupon Maria whispers something in the shopkeeper's ear. He then announces that he does not have that calibre in stock, so Peter walks behind the counter and grabs a box of .45 shells. He asks the girl if she would care to explain what is going on and she steps backwards telling him not to touch her. Peter replies that she is spoiled and not to be treated as a woman, but as a naughty little girl, and proceeds to spank her.

Just when the correction has become interesting, an old man walks in and tells Peter to stop, to which our hero replies that he is only teaching a chit to behave herself. The order is repeated and Maria is allowed to rise. She then tells her rescuer that the only reason why Peter is in the town is because he does not have the courage to go up against the bad guy himself.

The clip ends with Peter saying that he does not understand why the man intervened and the fellow replies, in effect, that it is not Peter's concern.

A Video Tribute to Pippa's Posterior

I couldn't resist it - the video pretty much made itself. Which is a good thing because Raven Red was bending my ear during the whole time that I was editing the clip for your delectation and delight.

Is Pippa's Posterior a Fake?

Pippa's posterior owes more to her dressmaker than Mother Nature, it is being claimed after photos appeared of her rump which seem to show it flat and hardly worth a smack.

So what do you think, folks? The photo on the left seems to show a run of the mill rump that is hardly worth a second glance, especially when compared to the pornographic display that we can see above.

What could account for the differences to Pippa's posterior? 

The people demand answers!

Thrashing The Maid

What to do with an incompetent servant girl? This mistress has the answer - she orders the wretched girl to bend over for a dose of the tawse across her bare buttocks. Sit back and enjoy the sight of a cruel, leather-clad dominatrix putting her employee through her paces. 

Your cock is telling you to click this link!