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PlayDom?

I found this image one day recently, while flipping through the most innocuous of magazines... (Playboy :D) Needless to say, it took me aback -- mass media mags (even one so innocent and family-rated as Playboy) don't typically feature themes related to kink (and I really mean kink, here, not sex: the difference being sex is pretty mainstream, while kink decidedly isn't... yet...)



Granted, we have very little (aka no) spanking involved here, but the D/s element is unmistakable. And, as Playboy is like to do, the sexualized Dominant/submissive theme here is being utilized as merely a ploy for advertising (the text on the upper right corner reads: "Classic Look of the Month: Dressed to Kill"... :P "Dressed to Spank" is more like it...) Okay, perhaps it's a bit for entertainment, too, but that's what makes the advert so appealing... :D

It seems we've also rather jumped backward in time a bit, here, perhaps to make the red-dress-clad woman on the ground clinging to the gentleman's leg, and his holding her head back by her curly blonde hair, more 'acceptable' as a time-encapsulated 1940s-1950s Hollywood swooning fantasy moment.

In any case, it's a lovely, sultry, eye-(and mind-)catching image, and I wanted to share it here with you... Not as much spanking as perhaps an idea of one of the many possible relationships that could exist behind and within the delightful adult activity... :D (Not to mention I almost melted when I turned the page and laid eyes on it...)

Oh, and Dear Playboy:
More kink, please?! Pretty please with a lovely pin-up model on top? Judging by the above, it seems like you have the makings to be really good at it...!

Spanked at the Dining Room Table

Being turned over someone's knee in the drawing room, or the bedroom, or the study, or some other more privately domestic location is one thing... but to experience such humiliation in the dining room?! Right in between the kitchen and the sitting room?! Not only that, but with the rest of house sitting right there around the table...! This was a new experience for me :D

Let me set the scene.

I was hanging out with some kinky friends, we'll call them Diane, Melanie, Tim, Sean, and Paul. If I hadn't been there, Tim would have been the youngest. We were all chatting around the dining room table one night, quite innocently.

Innocently, that is, until Paul left for a moment and decided to come back with a leather strap. :-0 (Paul and I have a kind of teacher/student dynamic going on...)

With Sean, Melanie, Diane, and Tim watching, he pulled his chair back from the table a bit and, to my surprise, guided me over his lap. He started spanking me over my jeans, to the chuckling delight of the table -- after about 45 seconds, Paul thought it prudent to have me start counting. :D

I counted to about 10, I think, before Sean decided to chime in, "I don't think she's doing that right, Paul... Isn't she supposed to say, 'One, Professor, two, Professor...' like that? I think you should make her start over..." Although I couldn't see his face from my vulnerable position up-turned over Paul's knees, the wide grin was apparent in the sound of his voice. The rest of the table, wise and worldly as a panel of elders, agreed quite heartily with Sean's sentiments.

At this point Tim made an astute observation, commenting about the idea of "starting a spanking over," as if the soreness and redness of the previous part of the spanking will just disappear and the spankee will have a "fresh start..." But, then, that's the beauty of the threat, isn't it? It's not hurting the spanker's hand any more to "start over" -- they could be at it all day without a problem!

This led to a wee bit of lovely conversation while I dangled bottom-up over Paul's lap, which somehow led to everyone finding out that I can speak multiple languages. How this happened, I have no idea... Thus is the tumultuous nature of late-night conversation...

In any case, this new-found knowledge sprouted another bout of kinky commentary, this time regarding the idea that I should count in another language. I confessed to knowing Japanese, and in fact even knowing how to say "Professor" in Japanese, which started us back off again with Paul spanking me, and me counting.

(Just between you and me, I fibbed a bit, saying I only knew how to count up to ten in Japanese... but that's because at the time I wasn't sure I would remember more, not because I wanted fewer spanks...) :D

"Ichi, Sensei," I started, "Ni, Sensei," and so on, up to ten... And then!! As if we hadn't had enough participation from the peanut gallery :D:D Melanie spoke up and mentioned that the tradition was to give me "one to grow on" after the originally allotted number. So Paul landed another, and I thought for a split second before eeking out a tentative, "Ju-Ichi? Sensei..."

Diane promptly added, "And one for good luck!"

"Ju-Ni!" :D Goodness!

I didn't know that getting spanked at the dinner table could be such a fun participatory event! :D

A Stern Potions Master

Admit it: the title of my blog must have made you wonder...

Well, let's get down to it, then. Yes, I am an enthusiastic fan of Harry Potter -- the books, the world, the writer, the paraphernalia, less so but still the movies -- pretty much everything to do with it. For the longest time (here meaning from about age 12 to age 15) one of my dearest ambitions was to eventually be the mother of two mischievous twins with red hair and green eyes... :D

But can anyone guess the identity of my most favorite character (besides Fred and George, who come in near the top of the list)...? A certain dark, smarmy, intelligent, sarcastic, reserved individual for whom Harry maintained a constant dislike, and, towards the end (but not in THE end), even malice...? A rather stern and sharp Professor, whose morals were questionable to some (until the END), and whose inner strength and confidence in his own identity seemed to settle around him like a cloak, demanding and critical in his teaching...? A mysterious character played in the movies by none other than the aMAZingly wonderful and already darkly dominating Alan Rickman...?

Let me make it easier for you:


Absolutely positively: Severus Snape. (If you are or know of the owner or creator of the lovely image above please let me know so I can give you credit, and ask you if you have any more like it!)

I could never quite put my finger on why Severus Snape's character intrigued me so much, until of course later in life when I came to know more about the ways of the world... :D

Of course, my imaginary version of Rowling's Snape was quite a bit more conscious of personal hygiene, and could even be known to show a streak of kindness or concern on occasion. He also believed in the effective and reasonable use of corporal punishment in cases deemed appropriate for such. :D

The thing I really like about the above picture is the sense of movement in it -- his cloak thrown sideways in the wake of his working arm... the implication of a hard, fast, no-nonsense spanking... Certainly the kind of task that the Potions Master would deem necessary for the correction and instruction of wayward students, such as this lucky Hermione-ish girl. myself.

"I assure you, Miss Bailey, by the time we are quite finished here, you will find that stealing from my personal potions stores, even for the commendable purpose of advanced potion-making, will not be tolerated. If you wished to advance your brewing abilities outside of class, you should simply have obtained my permission as Potions Master, and I would have been glad to lend you not only an allotment of my stores, but my guidance and considerable knowledge of potions as well.

Surely you can agree that stealth and pilfering are deplorable traits for any young witch, especially one so promising and esteemed as yourself. I hope you will think twice about your actions in the future, Miss Bailey, and realize that should there be a next time -- and I sincerely hope there will not be -- I do not intend to be nearly as lenient with you."

:D:D:D

Someday soon you may come to find another Snape-related post here in Mischief Managed, but for now we shall leave the Professor to his work, and welcome any speculations as to what else he may be getting into behind those closed dungeon doors... :D

Happy Valentine's Day! wink, wink (-_^)

The above image, courtesy of MyFunCards, called out to me this Valentine's Day. :D Not only are we graced with the image of lovely frilly heartsy Valentine's panties, but "get behind me"?? Seriously? These are the moments when I question the vanilla-ness of some of the people who make these ads... :D

The idea of Valentine's panties led me to other web-domains, including one of my favorite sites: CafePress! :D The perfect place for finding/making/sending/buying/browsing Valentine's gifts! Not to mention, Valentine's Day just happens to be one of the loveliest holidays, and the one with the most perfect color scheme for a spanko's imagination... pinks... reds... ; )

And... it's always so much fun on CafePress to try out the custom-maker options and see what kinds of kinky things can be made... : )

Needless to say, I was quite happy when I found just such a customizing option on CafePress for Valentine's panties...! I've always wanted a pair like those pictured immediately below, just to make sure that if, unlike the ad above, I'm being too verbally subtle (which happens quite often), he may still get it in the end... :D

But why stop there?! With three cute styles, CafePress provided quite the Valentiney stimulation to my kinky imagination, including a pink and white "peace and love" theme:As well as one with a scholastic-type print and cute little hearts which cried out "Academia" to me... :D

If your creative kinky side has been awakened this Valentine's Day, please feel free to try it out yourself here, and if you would care to share a description of your creation (the style you chose and what you wrote), please do!!

A happy holiday to all, and to all happy spanking! :D

Spanking Therapy

I had another kinky dream!

In the dream, my mother was seeing a therapist -- this is not entirely unusual: through most of my life she has gone to talk to some shrink or other about once a month, just to take a load off of a stressful overwhelming life. Quite effective, really :D

But this time, said therapist was apparently making use of a new, and unorthodox, stress-relieving technique... :D

My dream-mom was a bit different than my real-life mom, a little more girly and buddy-buddy... almost
like a peer rather than a parent
(perhaps that reflects my changing relationship with her as I transition into adulthood?)... So when we
were discussing the news of our lives over chocolate milk-shakes in the dream, it seemed natural when she enthusiastically recommended to me her new therapist and his intriguing methods.
(Picture courtesy of Vanda)

She wouldn't tell me any details, but she gave me that knowing little meaningful wink and raised her shoulder, letting me know that I "really should try him," that he was "amazing"...

My interest piqued, I decided it would be worth checking out. I got the feeling in the dream that this was at a later period in my life, when a monthly visit to a therapist might be a good idea just to talk things out and get away from the humdrum of adult life. Little did I realize just how far away from humdrum I would be getting!

When I arrived at the therapist's office, interested in setting up an appointment, I was greeted by a lovely young vibrant girl who seemed delighted to see me. She informed me that since I was a first-timer, I would need to undergo a short interview with her before I would be able to make an appointment.

"Like an application?"

"Yes, quite." And she smiled a wide, genuine, happy smile, beckoning me into a separate room off the main foyer.

We sat together in there for about 15 minutes of dream-time, her in a smart skirt-suit and heels, holding a clipboard and notepad on her lap, me in a dress and still wearing my coat, clutching my purse.

I don't remember any of the questions she asked me, but she had that same knowing little glint in her eye as we talked, and soon she told me that I'd passed with flying colors -- that I'd be allowed to schedule my first appointment today! Apparently, although I don't remember any of the questions striking me as shocking or extraordinary or anything other than innocuous, she had determined that I was a perfect fit for the kind of therapy that this particular clinic offered.

The dream started to drift off there, but I had a kind of 'flash-forward' of the future before the dream completely ended, with me over the therapist's knee, dress flipped up and panties around my knees, gripping his thigh as he talked and spanked my stress away... :D

Now I just have to get over the fact that the recommendation came from the persona that was supposed to be representing my mother...! :D

Taken Out to the Wood Shop

Although I have yet to experience the long-standing American tradition of "being taken out to the woodshed," I would say that a wood-working shop, in a smaller building separate from the house, is perhaps a sufficient substitute for the time being... :D Not to mention it's heated (very important during our cold winter months), and much bigger than a woodshed, supplying one with plenty of room for many different options of position, implement, placement, and much more...

Fortunately, I have had the privilege of being spanked out in the wood-working shop not once, but twice, on two different instances :D

Both occasions required the use of a typical piece of work-shop/wood-shed furniture (as pictured above), the stool. Except in my case, the stool was a lot taller, and four-legged rather than the more antiqual (and actually more practical) three legs.

In the first situation, my spanker made use of the bar-type stool himself, with me over his lap, which lifted me quite a few inches farther from the ground than I am used to being, and added an overall elevated feeling to the experience... Soon after my time spent over his knee, he stood up and had me bending over the stool itself, hands grasping the cushion there to keep steady as he applied a reinforced leather strap to the part of my anatomy made most accessible by such a position... (for a clearer idea of which anatomical part this must be, see the lovely silhouette to the right above).

I must say, the most exhilarating moment of this first experience for me, quite unexpectedly, was when both my jeans and panties came down to my thighs while I was bent forward in this precarious position over the work stool. Although the building was more than a shed and thus quite encapsulated, with a door and no windows, the feeling of being 'outdoors,' or at least outside of the privacy of the house, still prevailed. And although the work shop was heated, there is still that unmistakable feel of cool air on newly exposed skin that is quite awakening... in more than one way...

Not only this, but with the way the stool was positioned and my orientation over it, anyone who may have happened to come waltzing in the door to the shop would have had a full and unencumbered view... Now, had anyone actually come in while I was so exposed I might have died from embarrassment, but the mere idea of it (without the actual experience) can be rather exciting :D

On the second occasion, I was actually sent out to the work shop for the very reason of testing out some new implements, which had, in fact, been fashioned right there in that very shop. This time I was able to retain not only my jeans, but also my coat and scarf, as it was quite a chilly day. Rather than starting with otk first, I went right over the stool, which happened to be in another area of the shop, but with no less room for my spanker to swing his arm, along with any implement of his choosing... As this time was more about testing and feeling out different types of spanking instruments, I had the pleasure of feeling a short leather strap, a cane, a wide rubber strap (which was new to me), and several others, all while resting fully forward over the stool, gripping it tightly, up on the toes of my boots.

It probably goes without saying that my body heated up rather quickly out in the shop, although the rise in temperature was rather centered around one area... :D Be it heated shop or chilly woodshed, the main elements seem similar to me. Now if only I could get the chance to test that theory... :D

Improvise-able Implement

This (improvisation), I believe, is one of the many reasons for my long-standing fascination with a particularly kinkify-able, unobtrusive, and vanilla clothing accessory: the belt.

"Vanilla!?" some might say -- but, yes, remember: there are many, many people walking around in daily vanilla life, wearing belts for no other reason than to hold up their trousers, or perhaps for the trend/look/fashion/eye-catching quality of a flashy waist accent. You don't see these same people carrying around floggers or slippers or canes in broad daylight, do you?

Alright, perhaps a slim number of them may be wearing slippers as well, but there is something decidedly less attractive about taking something off of one's foot, which has been on the ground outside, to use as a spanking implement, rather than from around one's waist, which stays at a relatively safe distance from the ground in most situations.

And, given, there may be a few people making use of walking canes/sticks, such as the one under the employ of the dominating, confident, and bitingly intelligent Dr. House (played by the hot and British Hugh Laurie)... :D

But, in most cases, these walking canes, while food for thought, are not the thin, bendy, whippy rattan kind used for a less mundanely vanilla purpose...


To illustrate just how kinky a vanilla belt in the hands of an unwitting young vanilla individual can be, I would like to relate to you a personal story.

I was with other college-age friends at a convention which required our staying in a hotel room together. No, not an anime or a Dungeons and Dragons convention, although I have been to my fair share of those... And not that this is entirely relevant, but I was the only girl staying in our room (which seems to happen quite a bit around me...)

This happened to be a convention that required dressing up for more than one occasion, which meant lots of lovely suits, ties, skirts, heels, ...and belts :D One evening, after one such occasion, a friend and I arrived back at the room about 5 minutes before the rest of our troop, in deep conversation with each other about some-such convention-related topic. Upon entering, I flopped down tummy-first on the full-size bed, black skirt safely positioned around me so as not to show anything inappropriate, while he went right to the closet and started shedding layers of masculine dress clothes.

I'm holding my face in my hands,
elbows on the bed, knees bent with
feet in the air, typical girl-on-the-bed
position, watching him as we talk.
Jacket off, chit-chat chit-chat, shoes
off, talk talk talk, tie loosened,
chit-chat talk talk -- and then his
hands went to his belt buckle.

I could feel my face turning red at that moment.

It will pass, was my thought: he will simply take off the belt and set it down, and we will continue our conversation as if nothing unusual had happened (which, in vanilla actuality, it hadn't...). But no... apparently my friend was more agitatedly stimulated by our discussion than I had anticipated, because not only did he whip off his belt, making it sing through the belt-loops of his black slacks, but he kept it in his hand as we continued to talk.













Not only did he keep it in his hand while animatedly throwing his arms around in vibrant discourse, but, to make the belt less cumbersome, he doubled it over. Not only was his belt now doubled in one hand, but to keep up with the building heat and movement in the room, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

:-0 I was no longer able to focus on the conversation. My brain was doing somersaults. :D

As if that wasn't enough, my friend was losing himself so fully in the heat of his sentiments about our now almost one-sided conversation that he started pacing, and slapping the doubled end of his belt onto the palm of his other hand. Here I must re-iterate that this is a vanilla friend of mine, who has not the slightest idea of my kinky tendencies.

By now, I am staring. Utterly staring... I think my jaw may have even dropped... He is swinging that doubled-over belt around like it's nothing and I'm lying face-down on this bed in a skirt... After a few minutes of this, he finally realized that I was entirely distracted, realized what he was doing pacing around the room with the belt, and then grinned apologetically. He strode back over to the closet and set his belt down, beginning to unbutton the top of his dress shirt as I eased back into the conversation, and our other room-mates knocked on the door.

Yum. :D