Over HIS Knee 3 Scarlett Hill

Entertainment (Www.Scarletthill.Com)
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 OH NO! Noooo... NOOO pictures NOW! OH YES! Yesss... YESSS! Snap & spank away!

like the particularly cheeky folks above & inside who posted their cute birthday & spontaneous
spanking snaps on social media sites for us to celebrate in the stubbornly old-school, fanzine style
format the Scarlett Hill family has favored SINCE THE PRINT & TRENCH COAT ONLY DAYS OF
1990, still & far, far into the blushing brighter than ever thanks to modern technology future!

Over HIS Knee (OHK) is another proudly cheeky publication from Scarlett Hill Entertainment (SHE), www.scarletthill.com, 1329 Hwy. 395, Suite 10-
298, Gardnerville, NV 89410 & our rapidly expanding, web wide family of genuine spanking devotees. OHK is solely intended as a freely expressive
entertainment for responsible, legal aged adults. SHE assumes no responsibility for opinions or statements expressed in this publication & does not
support, condone, or advocate assault, domestic violence, or selfishly disgusting abuse of any kind. Unless specifically stated, all names have been
changed to protect the naughty & any resemblance of characters appearing herein to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The electronic edition
of this publication & all material contained herein is in full compliance with 18 U.S.C. § 2257 pertaining to the publication of photography & film in an
electronic media. Web finds & photos found in the public domain or courtesy of original copyright holders as noted. Original contents copyright © 2014,
Scarlett Hill Entertainment. No portion of this publication may be excerpted, reproduced or redistributed in any form without express, written permission
of the publisher. ALL rights reserved!

2
 Sassy supermodel Heidi Klum caused a stir with the cheeky pic above she posted to her Instagram account in 2015

Old-Fashioned Spanking
& the Modern Woman!
Times have changed & the tables & taboos have
turned, but today’s more enlightened & empowered
women remain as shy about fessing up to the fact that
they secretly want to be spanked into submission by a
man as ever if not moreso due to all of the feminist
propaganda against such a “shameful & abusive”
thing by their less enlightened & hypocritically sexist
sisters. So, where modern women stand on being
spanked by their men is a guess at best, and yours is
as good as ours. However, based on the record-
breaking, society-shaking success of the Fifty
Shades franchise among women by & large & all the The flick based on the second book of the Fifty Shades
other positive signs that have popped up since, it trilogy breathed new life back into the phenom it was for
seems safe to say that things, women & their us on Valentine’s Day 2017 while the controversy over
naturally naughty desires really haven’t changed that real domestic discipline continues on mainstreet.
much at all. And only for the best according to the
signs we’ve chosen to pass on in this edition of OHK!
We hope you’ll get a rise out of them! Thanks for
joining us! – Barbara Lewis & Michael Constantine

One of many actual wedding cake toppers currently

available & used by particularly bold couples.

3
 Spank-Happy Community News!

Fifty Shades Strikes Again!

The FIFTY SHADES franchise breathed new life back
into the history making, society shaking phenomena the
trilogy of BDSM fantasy based books by amateur British
author, E.L. James, suddenly & unexpectedly turned out
to be in 2012 this past Valentine’s Day 2017 with the
release of the film version of the second book, FIFTY
SHADES DARKER. Once again starring Dakota Johnson
& Jamie Dornan (pictured above, right, below & on
following pages), the flick unfortunately flopped with
reviewers (10% pos) & audiences (50% like it)
according to rottentomatoes.com However, FSD wasn’t
a flop at the box office with $46M over its weekend
opening in the US & a grand total of $379M worldwide
as of March 30, 2017 according to the reliable folks at
boxofficemojo.com. So, the phenom lives on & no
doubt will rise again with the release of the third book
based film, FIFTY SHADES FREED in 2018 & forever
thereafter via on-line sales of both books & flicks.

Poster/pics courtesy of/copyright Fifty Shades Darker

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 Sooooo embarrassing... And, somehow, sooo sexy!!

O-OH-OHH... THAT HURT SOOOO GOOD!

Sorry, but we haven’t seen FSD yet or read the book, we must admit. So, we can’t say who the
women in the sweater is in the top pic above, how long she watched, or what context the OTK
scene played in the movie. However, we’ll guess that Christian (Jamie Dornan) was feeling frisky
& decided to show newbie Anastasia Steele (Dakota Johnson) how much more sin-sational a bare
bottom, OTK spanking ALWAYS is with someone watching or even just knowing! OHH MYY!!
What do you think? Are we right? Please let us know if you do! Thanks! Meantime, Enjoy!
5
 Taking A Stand Against Reverse Sexism!
I'm for equality and freedom for all in a bigger way than most people because of my kink
for spanking. I'm also an old-fashioned gentleman and would never strike a women other
than where nature intended and without her consent. However, I draw the line at
defending myself from being attacked by a woman and will pay back any that sneak a slap
and kick to the groin in on me like this one fanatic feminist did in my last year of high
school when I told her how full of shit she and her hypocritical sisters were and why.
Well, she didn't like the truth and proved me right by reacting as she felt like she could
and should from all the examples of women slapping, kicking, punching and otherwise
abusing men physically and verbally on TV and in the movies without being pounced on by
the PC police and termed a misogynist or abuser as any man who did and said the same
things to a women or about their gender in general would be.
I’m sure many of you have noticed, and with American men being as emasculated as
they’ve become, I’m sure you’ll understand why the girl who tried to kick me in the nuts
and slapped my face was totally shocked when I struck back. Thankfully, the kick caught
my thigh and the slap only stunned me for a second. I never expected it and didn't see it
coming. Then it stirred me to strike back as I did, and without thinking about how I
should handle her and the repercussions that might ensue.
You mess with the bull, you get the horns is how I felt as I grabbed the girl still standing
in front of me . She was a year younger and grade lower than me, about six inches shorter,
and probably 75 pounds less. She should have been afraid that I'd strike back, but she
wasn't and the grin on her face and air of gloating victory she gave off only pissed me off
more. I enjoyed watching her bubble burst as I suddenly yanked her towards me and
caught her around the waist as she lost her balance and stumbled.
The girl fit under my arm perfectly and didn't realize what I had in mind for her
hypocritical ass, or that it was already trapped in a perfect position for me to spank the
sexist out of it. She demanded that I let her go when I didn't on my own and started trying
to twist, wriggle, kick, bite and claw her way out of my submission hold and get away from
me. She shrieked and spit more when she couldn't, got me going again when she sank her
nails into my bare arm and scratched up a few furrows of my teenaged skin.
I gasped in shock and outrage and growled something like, "You are going to pay for that
now too, you violent, sexist bitch!" Then, before she could reply, I dropped my eyes to the
stuffed seat of her form-fitting blue jeans and started slapping the two rounded rump
cheeks that were clearly defined in denim. My position put them right in my sights and in
the best place for me slap the girl's helpless behind fast and hard in a natural motion that I
could have kept up all day and would have if I could have.
My attacker made a huge fuss that rose above the steady CRACKS of my palm and
changed in tune drastically as the pain it imparted rose quickly, too. Her tone changed fast
6
and drastically from angry and demanding to plaintive
and pleading as the pain in her ass cut through her
crap. I'd say I was landing a swat a second and sticking
as close as I could to the same spots on each churning
cheek, and more than hard enough to penetrate through
the denim and cause the soft, sensitive, young bottom
skin beneath it to burn and sting like mad.
The girl tried but could not escape my hold or save
her tightly encased teenaged buns from the spanking I
gave them with the palm of my manly hand regardless of
how hard she squirmed, wriggled, kicked and tried to
bite and scratch me. I was to able to fight her off and
keep her deserving derriere just where I wanted and the
area clear for me to see and slap to my soaring delight.
I can't tell you how damned good I felt, but I should
say that I was and had been into naughty females being
spanked since I was a boy and made more out of the
occasional love pats and hanky-spanky my old-
fashioned housewife mom and head of the household
dad engaged in than they did. Dad never really spanked
mom as far as I know, but I liked the idea of him doing
so for some reason and wanted to try my hand at it
more and more as I grew up.
The girls I knew gave me some chances here and there.
They weren't feminist fanatics or forbidden from enjoying
the fun and excitement of a playful bottom warming. But
none of them were as into spanking as me, and none of
my older female friends or flames were either. They all
liked the occasional spankings I found ways to give them,
but they all considered them an occasional kinky treat
only instead of as a part of the everyday lifestyle I wanted
to live with the sexy, sassy, submissive spouse I hoped to
find and settle down with someday.
I was tired of being bashed for those traditional
desires I have every right to prefer and the shaming the
feminists showered on any girls who shared them. A girl
I was good friends with was one of them, and coming to
her defense was what led to the confrontation that day. I
never expected to be attacked or to find myself with a
fanatic at my mercy and no one to stop me from paying
her back and punishing her for all the trouble and
heartache she and her sexist bullying caused me, the
girl I stepped up to defend and, it seemed, all of the kids
who'd been there to see everything from the start and
the others who came to see what was going on.
We were outside of the school when my shining
moment came to be, and I'd say there were 30 kids of
various ages and sexes crowded around. But not one
spoke up in defense of or came to the aid of the
misguided young woman I was spanking when she
realized pleading with me was a dead end and started
screaming for someone to help her.
"HELP! HELP!! OH GOD, PLEEEEZ HELP MEEEE!"
"You mess with the bull, you get the horns honey!", I
growled loud as I kept on whacking merrily away at
the springy summits of the teenaged female hide I
was tanning.
7
 Thank goodness the authorities felt the same when the girl I finally let go and watched
run away with her hot buns in her and tears streaming from her eyes and her parents
decided to press assault charges against me. The cops were all males and on my side more
than hers when they looked into what happened and interviewed witnesses. When their
investigation was through, they offered to arrest us both on equal charges although I'd
gotten in about 200 blows to two. Then, when the girl and her parents declined, they
closed the case with a sterner warning to them than me not get physical again.
I was relieved and ready to put the whole mess behind me and live off of the magnificent
memories I had and always will have of spanking the sexist out of that misguided young
woman. But I couldn't stop the story about the on the spot spanking I gave her for
attacking me from spreading through school and town like the juicy, scandalous gossip it
was. And, lo and behold, I suddenly became a kind of celebrity. I attracted hatred from the
feminists and admiration from all of the other people who felt like me and preferred real
equality or the more traditional male-female roles in their relationships.
I was pleasantly surprised to find more people on my side than less, and shocked, awed
and amazed when some young women with an interest in spanking started to buzz around
me. They wanted me to tell them my story and, more often than you might believe, to try
and get me to spank them. It was weird, wild and unbelievable to me at first, too. But it
really was too good to be true, and I took advantage of every opportunity once I realized
what was going on and got into the swing of it, I guess I could say.
There wasn't anything stopping me
then, and I had the time of my life
taking advantage of every opportunity
and invite to spank a pair of naughty
teenaged female buns that came my
way over their jeans, their panties and
on the bare occasionally with some of
the bolder older or drunker girls who
wanted to add a little exhibitionism into
the mix like the minx who shucked her
jeans and thong down on her own
before she dove over my lap in front of
about 30 people at a party we both
attended.
I probably don't have to say that the
tipsy teen crowd roared with approval,
or that I had the best time ever giving
them and the girl what they wanted.
She was a real exhibitionist and
talented actress, and could take all that I wanted to dish out. We put on a heck of a show
together at that party, and after when she ravished me like I'd never been ravished before on
a blanket under the stars in a field outside of town I drove us to.
I fell in love that night before my future bride insisted she deserved to be spanked again
for being so wicked, I just didn’t know it for a while. I had to get to know the girl better
before I realized that she was the modern, empowered, and enlightened woman for me. And,
thankfully, she thought I was the modern, empowered, and enlightened man for her, too.
My wife and I look forward to the day real equality and freedom is available to all, and
hope everyone like us will rise back up and demand it and our rights as stridently as
today’s feminists but without the shaming, blaming and hypocrisy the fanatics that are so
popular these days fail to see. Nothing will change if we don’t. – Anonymous

We’re all about consensual spanking, but I feel like you were right to spank the young woman
who attacked you and about the reverse sexism that made her think she could get away with
slapping and kicking you. But, as a woman, I have to point out that not all of us are fanatics
and that the equality we deserve has not yet been achieved in a lot of other important areas and
won’t be unless we keep fighting right alongside you. – Barbara Lewis, editor

8
 Taking My Brat to Task for Tossing a Tantrum!
I thought I should share the wealth I received a few years ago when I finally found a
wonderful and very compatible women named Sarah who really enjoys being spanked and
accepts the occasional punishment she doesn’t like but knows she needs and deserves even
though she’s in her early thirties and anything but submissive by nature. Sarah is more of
a mischievous brat and a spitfire in need of taming when her temper flares as it did a few
months ago when we went to the greyhound races at her request.
The track had a good restaurant with a view of the track and a computer terminal at
each table to place bets without having to get up. It was very convenient and everything
was great at first as we ate, drank and laughed over our poor choices and repeated losses.
Neither of us knew what we were doing, but we were only placing two dollar bets and money
and winning didn’t matter until my luck changed and I won three straight races, including
a long-shot that would cover the cost of the dinner, wine, and drinks Sarah had throughout
the night.
I was driving and stopped drinking after the wine we had with dinner, so I was sober and
knew that Sarah’s competitive side kicked in when she started betting five and then ten
dollars a race to catch up to me and win. But even the favorites she finally resorted to
picking in the last two races failed to come in and her growing frustrations finally boiled
over and out in what can only be described as a temper tantrum or hissy fit.
Sarah spit out profanities that should never cross a lady’s lips and made enough of a
scene to attract some attention. So, naturally, I got a little embarrassed and annoyed at the
brat sitting across from me. She didn’t hear a comforting and calming word I said, and only
stopped fussing when I finally had enough and leaned across the table to tell her that she
was going to get a jolly good spanking as soon as I got her home.
Sarah was so far gone that she actually seemed surprised by my promise of punishment.
She knew as well as I did that she should have seen it coming from a mile away, and was
unusually quiet on the drive to her house. Sarah knew she was going to get a rare spanking
she deserved and was not supposed to like at all, and couldn’t feel as giddy with excitement
as I did about holding her over my lap and giving it to her.
I knew I was in for a wild, wonderful ride on the real spanking train and silently gloated
and grew a little stiff in the groin all the way to Sarah’s place. I feasted my eyes on her full
and still firm fanny as she proceeded me to her door and imagined all the ways I could
9
punish it and the brat it was attached to when we got inside. Sarah shot me pleading looks
along the way and a long, pitiful one when she swung the door between her and her well
deserved discipline open.
I was primed, ready and in the zone to return my overgrown brat’s sad and sorry puppy
dog look with the stern determination I felt among many other things at that poignant
moment. It was real, raw and one of those things besides the act itself that makes good
spanking as intimate as it should be. Sarah wasn’t my sassy, sexy 32 year-old playmate
and lover anymore. She was my unlucky, tantrum throwing little girl now, and finally
accepted the spanking she knew she deserved when she stepped through the door and
behind it to receive her punishment in private.
I followed Sarah in and felt a lot differently about the unmistakably loud click of the
doorknob lock in the silence than she did. I saw my all grown up and about to suffer for her
sins friend, playmate and lover flinch. To me, it sounded like a starter’s gun to me, and I was
more than ready to run! I ordered Sarah to lead the way to her bedroom and followed close
enough behind to reach out and WHACK! one of her wiggling buns as she walked the short
distance through the living room and down a little hall to her bedroom.
Unlike the contemporary furniture and design of the rest of her place, Sarah’s bedroom
is bright pink, frilly, perfumed, feminine and more of a “boudoir” in the classic and
naughtily tinged sense. It was where most of the spanking happened at her place, and
where we kept the little collection of toys and things we used to enhance our spanking play
and Sarah’s occasional punishments. My hand was sufficient to make Sarah squeal,
squirm, sniffle and even scream and sob if I stick to and slap the dickens out of one, two,
three or however many spots I decide to spank onto and way down deep into her bouncing,
blushing buns.
Sarah hates spot spankings, and the occasional on the spot hand spankings she’s gotten
somewhere semi-private as she has a few times since we met. But she really dreads and
fears being privately punished, at my leisure, and with either of the items I’d added to our
collection for the purpose. The first was a good, old-fashioned hairbrush made of hard,
solid, polished wood, not plastic.
And the second was a paddle made from one piece of maple with a bunch of little holes
drilled into it to increase the burning, stinging bite. It’s about the size of a regulation ping
pong paddle, which is big enough to cover each of Sarah’s round buns in two spanks. And,
believe me, Sarah’s real raw reactions as you call it when I smack her with it back up the
claims of the on-line toy shop I bought it from, which included, “HURTS LIKE HELL!” and
“HALVES THE TIME & ENERGY IT TAKES!”, as I recall.
I told Sarah to strip to her birthday suit while I went to get the paddle and a bottle of
massage oil that I like to apply to my brat’s buns before I spank them and after as well. The
oil helps keep Sarah’s skin moist and silky, which increases the sting of my spanks along
with the cayenne pepper and ginger root the oil intended for warming contains. Sarah
enjoys the effects when we’re playing, but not so much when I’m punishing her.
I could hear Sarah slipping out of her clothes behind me and eagerly anticipated the always
arousing sight of her womanly body in the buff... And how much more sensational it was when
she was standing before me waiting to be spanked like a genuinely guilty and sorry little girl!
It was a fantasy-cum-true sight that could only be seen and felt at times like this when Sarah
agreed that she deserved to be disciplined by my firm, fatherly side and the mood was right.
I gloried in the power I felt and the feel of Sarah’s eyes following me as I made the choices
I’m sure she expected and didn’t want me to make. She really does hate that maple paddle,
and grew wide-eyed with fear when I turned around with it in my hand and the sternest look I
could plaster across my face.
“B-B-But....” Sarah sputtered and whined, “I-I don’t wannnna be s-s-spanked hard w-
with that! I really and truly DON’T! Please ”
I was eager to get Sarah over my lap and cut her off with a snort. Then, without really
thinking, I calmly, coldly and confidently told her that what she wanted was worthless and
too late now. I told her that she should have listened to me or, at the very least,
remembered what she got when she let her temper get the best of her last time.
Sarah knew better than to interrupt my little lecture and limited herself to softly
exerting, “I know... I’m sorry... I won’t...”, where she could until I concluded with a line like,
10
Sexy birthday suit paddling pics on this page of beautiful British blonde Belinda Lawson courtesy
of/copyright FIRMHANDSPANKING.COM , an established old English flick site catering to Female
submission with a now huge assortment of “2,159 movies & 57,760 photos” to enjoy via monthly
membership. Click pics/link above to check it out right now if you’re connected to the web.

11
“You obviously didn’t learn your lesson well enough and need your memory refreshed,
Sarah Grace, and I intend to give you a spanking you’ll never be able to forget, even if you
want to! Come along.”
I felt Sarah’s trembling as I took her hand and led her over to her big, soft bed. Mine
have been trembling too from the adrenaline rushing through my veins, but I didn’t notice
as I sat on the side of the bed and sank down into the luxuriously soft, silky and fluffy
bedcovers that covered it. They felt great against naked skin as Sarah and I both knew, and
ensured her comfort as best as it could be ensured when she was getting a spanking she
wasn’t supposed to like or want to repeat one little bit!
Sarah softly implored me not to spank her too hard as I pulled her down and positioned
her hips over my thighs where they’d do the most good wiggling and waggling around as
they had to do when the blaze in her beautiful but naughty buns got burning as I much as
I intended for them to be for Sarah’s sake and mine. She needed to suffer, and I needed to
remain firm and give her what she deserved. But there was no reason for me not to quietly
enjoy the gifts I deserved for seeing to Sarah’s disciplinary needs. That would be downright
silly and wasteful!
I started to feel myself rise as I feasted my eyes and both hands on Sarah’s sweet naked
seat massaging in the oil I’d brought over. Sarah settled into her down comforter and relaxed
as much as she could, but she couldn’t keep her buns from puckering prettily a few times
while the oil and my ongoing comments about what a naughty girl she was and what I was
about to give her for being hot-tempered both penetrated as deeply as they were going to.
I was at half-staff and my hands were as warm and tingly as my crotch when I cleaned
them off on a towel Sarah kept with the oil. It made my brat’s buns shine and look even
sexier and more sensational in the soft, flattering light that filled Sarah’s boudoir. I took a
moment to admire and take it all in. I’d spent the majority of my life dreaming, fantasizing,
hoping and wishing to be right where I was.
I knew I had Sarah to thank for that, and I was grateful. But not so much as to keep me
from giving her the real punishment spanking she deserved. In fact, it made me more
determined to do it right and added a snap to my wrist as I began to slap Sarah’s slippery
seat with the palm of my hand at a peppery pace that wouldn’t allow her to catch her
breath after her first gasp.
That came when my first spank landed with a resounding CRACK and the force to flatten
Sarah’s rounded right bun and start it bobbling, wobbling and warming up fast thanks to
the oil. My second spank got my brat’s other bun going and generated another gasp. It was
music to my ears, and I settled back and into a rhythm to keep Sarah’s meaty bottom
cheeks bouncing, blushing, bobbling and burning simultaneously to my beat.
Sarah backed the CRACKS of my punishing palm with a rising chorus of hisses, grunts,
squeaks, squeals, yips and yelps, and she made me appreciate spanking her even more
when her hips got in on the act and started jerking, gyrating and grinding into my crotch
and confined erection. It screamed for release and satisfaction NOW, but I knew better than
to ejaculate prematurely and miss the even better enticements that were yet to arise when
my big, bad, beautiful brat was bawling, bucking and begging for me to stop spanking her
like a sad and sorry little girl!
That is what Sarah wanted and needed when she wasn’t getting it as she was now was,
and giving it to her was always my first and most important goal. With that in mind, I
switched to the maple paddle after Sarah’s ass cheeks looked rosy red and ready to really
appreciate the hard wood and hurt waiting in each of the little holes drilled in it. They were
just big enough for the soft, stinging skin of my brats buns to be forced into with every
WHACK, and leave behind bunches of little red circular spots that hurt like needles or bee
stings according to the woman who would know.
Sarah was squirming and sniffling slightly before I rubbed her round, red rump with the
cool, hard maple paddle and told her to prepare herself to be punished. I knew she could
feel the holes she feared scraping on her sensitized skin as I rubbed the paddle around,
and I knew Sarah was as scared as I wanted her to be when she started to sniffle harder
and plead with me to be merciful in such a pitiful way that it touched a sympathetic chord.
Sarah also rushed out a ragged apology and promise to never throw a tantrum again, too
I knew my brat meant what she said from the heart of her sore, scored bottom, but I
12
stood firm as I knew Sarah would want me to at any other time. I raised the paddle to
about shoulder height, and brought it down sharply twice to strike the rounded summits of
each of Sarah’s sore cheeks to renew the luster of the red and rekindle the fires that I knew
had faded too in the brief time since my last hand spank fell.
Sarah clenched her buns and her teeth she said later and got as ready as she could for
the paddle. It just wasn’t enough, or even close to enough to keep her from being
overwhelmed by the bite of the maple against her already burning buns. The paddle was
roughly the same size as those used to play the game of Ping-Pong, but thicker, heavier and
had those holes I mentioned earlier. They and the wood they were drilled through were the
biggest difference between the paddle and my hand, and caused the most damage.
CRACK! WHACK!!
I could feel Sarah’s body stiffen as the effects of the paddle overwhelmed her senses and
was assaulted by the gasps, hisses, squeals and shrieks that began to burst out of her and
continued throughout the thorough paddling I put her and her poor posterior through.
Pleas, apologies and promises were added as I proceeded, and my big, bad brat even tried
to toss in a sexual bribe as well before she finally gave in to the helplessness and
hopelessness of her situation.
Sarah sincerely tried to get off of my lap and away from the paddle, and I had use a lot
strength to keep her hips pinned down when she really got hysterical. My big bad brat put all
of her surprising strength and agility into play then. She pulled and pushed at the bedcovers
and the floor when she could reach it and after she slid her feet and legs off the bed. Sarah
thought that might win her freedom in her panic, but it only put her hips and posterior
between my legs and in an even better position to keep paddling her pretty and proud buns.
They were glowing red again in no time and covered with little bumps that I could see
and feel when I set the paddle down after 15 dual swat sets and smoothed my hand over
Sarah’s usually smooth bottom. The bumps weren’t in a pattern. They were just everywhere
and, by my tamed brat’s reaction, mostly responsible for the raging agony that reduced her
to the little girl she acted like when she threw her tantrum. Her sniffles turned to running
tears and her blubbering became so bad that I wouldn’t have known what my sassy, sexy
playmate and lover was saying if it wasn’t the same things any little girl would say while
she’s having her naughty buns whacked over and over again.
I knew Sarah was lost in submission and would remember this lesson forever, and ended
her spanking with an unwanted but needed application of the warming oil to her palm and
paddle beaten buns. Sarah winced, wiggled and squirmed at my gentle touch and, at one
point, wailed, “Ohmygawd! Ohhhmygawwwd! It hurts! It hurts soooo baaaad! I can’t take
anymore! Please no more! Pleeeez-Pleeeez-P-P-Please!!
“No. No more, baby. It’s over,” I cooed. I said she’d suffered enough for her sin, and all
would soon be forgiven. But I didn’t say when that would be, or what else I might “force”
Sarah to do to totally clean the slate and thank me for caring enough to discipline her like
her beloved but firm-handed father had when she was his little girl and after she’d budded
into his young teenaged daughter and begun to get off on being bare bottom spanked over
his knees.
Sarah wanted and needed a man like her dad in her life, and I was elated to feel like him
and as proud as a peacock later when my sassy, sexy and supremely horny brat praised me
with her words and worshipped me with her lips and body. It was incredible. Absolutely
mind blowing. All of it. It was also exhausting and Sarah and I both fell asleep like babes
and awoke feeling closer than we had the day before and better about our future together.
My beautiful brat’s buns were sore and bruised from our first Daddy-daughter bonding,
but Sarah didn’t consider having to sit carefully for a day or so that bad at all. She liked
being reminded of it, but she did not want to repeat it and hasn’t forced me to be as firm
since. She prefers the play we engage in at least twice a week, and although the spankings
she gets can get intense, they’re not for real and the maple paddle is not employed.
Sarah hates and fears that simple wooden thing more than ever, and I agreed to reserve
it for punishment in exchange for some freaky favors. But we both know where it is and
that it won’t be long before we’ll need it again to give us what we both want and are very
grateful to be able to give to each other now and forever after we get married as we’re now
planning to be. -- Nathan
13
 And as you should be from what you’re written, Nathan! You and Sarah seem to be a perfect
match, and that maple paddle seems like the perfect tool to keep you two as spank-happy forever
after as you deserve to be! Thanks for the great letter and please do keep in touch! — Barbara

Long-Distance Debt Paid In Full!

It finally happened! The most intense,
exciting session I’ve ever experienced in my
1+ years of being spanked; and it happened
quite by accident or maybe it was meant to
be. You can decide.
It all started out with an invitation from a
very nice man in New York. We had been
talking and emailing for about eight months
or so and he invited me to come for a visit.
He just had to meet me and see just how
insatiable I kept saying I was!
I accepted, the reservations were made, and
I was winging my way east for five days of fun:
sightseeing, getting to know Jack (not his real
name) and, of course, plenty of spanking! He
had promised that he was going to spank me
for many bratty comments I said to him over
the phone during our many conversations
(imagine that!), plus spank me for any
misbehavior I might get into during my stay. I
admit I deserve almost constant attention but,
could Jack manage it all in just five days? I
hoped so!
To make a long story short, when I arrived in New York, Jack was really sick with the
flu. He picked me up in a limo (part of my fantasy he’d sweetly agreed to spank me in
the limo on the way to our hotel room) and we were able to talk for a while. Jack was
really feeling awful, so we both agreed that he should call the doctor in the morning and
spend the rest of the night resting.
Jack called, made an appointment, and went to the doctor’s the next day at 10:30
a.m. only to learn our diagnosis had been correct and he had a bad case of the flu. He
was told to go home and stay in bed for the next few days, unless he wanted to end up
in the hospital. He was so sick he had no choice but agree.
When Jack called the hotel with his apologies, I found myself quite alone in New
York. Alone, unspanked for over a week (definitely not a wise thing to do), and knowing
I had to find something to do until Sunday when I was to fly home.
So, with fingers crossed, I got out my address book and started calling all the local
men I had talked to, hoping I could hook up with at least one, free to meet and
possibly, give me at least one good spanking during my visit to New York. After all, I
had almost a week before I could leave.
Things were looking pretty bleak as I called and found no one was around.
Disappointed, but persistent, I tried one last call to John, a guy I knew in Waterbury,
Connecticut and left a hopeful message on his machine.
John called back and said he would love to meet and, especially, to finally get his
hands on me. Over our numerous conversations, I had gotten myself in trouble with
that mouth of mine numerous times. You see, I have a habit of saying what I think,
when I want to say it, and that usually gets me in trouble.
With John, I was a real brat on more than one occasion and he promised that if we

14
ever got together, he would correct that mouth of mine and my attitude by putting me
over his knee and spanking me very soundly. He promised I’d not be able to sit down for a
while afterward, something I’ve heard before! I was soon to learn that he meant what he said!
It would take him about two hours to drive down from Connecticut, he told me, so that left me
more than enough time to prepare for our meeting.
Just what do you wear to a spanking? Knowing my bottom was going to be bared and
spanked thoroughly, I thought if I dressed in a very nice dress, heels, garters and stockings, it
might ease the punishment. It didn’t.
Two hours came and went very slowly and finally John was knocking at my door. That first
awkward moment when you meet someone for the first time face to face passed quickly. John
was as good-looking as in his picture and is 5’10", 170 pounds and 38 years old. I looked as
good as I did in my picture too and am 5’6", 120 pounds, and had just turned 40 years old.
John and I hugged, and I invited him inside the nice suite that Jack had booked for my visit.
We sat on the couch and talked and got to know each other a little bit better. It didn’t take
long before John’s tone had changed and he started scolding me with words like spoiled,
bratty, and incorrigible. He ended the scolding by stating that I needed a lesson and he was
going to see that I got it.
John was a very convincing scolder and the mood was right when he ordered me to the
corner and warned me not to peek. I could hear him moving behind me and wondered what he
was up to as he wanted me to do to add suspense. Then it got quiet again and stayed that way
until John knew I’d wonder and want to peek to see if he was still in the room with me.
I wasn’t going to fall for John’s trick. I knew he was as anxious to start as me, and counted
one in my favor when he gave in first and called me out of the corner. I turned to see him
sitting on the chair with a determined expression on his face and excitement in his eyes. I was
excited, too. It was a real moment of truth, after all, and one that we’d talked and fantasized
about forever!
“Come here and get over my lap, you brat!” John commanded. Then, as I made my way to
him, he told me how long I’d had the spanking he was going to give me coming and that it was
going to have to be a severe one to settle the big debt between us.
“Oh my!” I thought as I bent over John’s sturdy thighs and settled into the position I so love
and don’t get enough of. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and prepared myself for the worst. But,
unlike a couple of other men I’ve met with, John was a man after my own heart who knew
what he was doing and wanted to make our first spanking last as long as he could.
John started to spank my dress covered backside with his hand. The slaps hardly hurt and
only woke up and warmed up my bottom. He folded up the back of my dress and gave me
about as many spanks over my thin, frilly panties with a practiced firmness that impressed me
and warmed me up nicely.
Between my dress and panties, there really wasn’t much protection. But, as always, I
realized how much I’d underrated what my garments had done for me after John made a
shameful show out of lowering my panties and commenting on my bare bottom. Every word he
said was complimentary, and I do work to keep my buns from sagging. But its hard to keep
succeeding when you hit 40, and I’m more self conscious about my big, fat ass than any other
body part these days.
John’s admiration was uplifting, and the feel of his hand exploring and testing the bare
flesh of my bottom was fantastic. But I knew it wouldn’t last, and was ready when John’s hand
began covering my now bare bottom with slaps that were meant to hurt and did. I could feel
the sting of each spank sink in and spread across my bottom. John didn’t neglect my thighs
either and in no time I was warming quickly. OUCH!
John asked me if I thought I deserved what I was getting? Being incorrigible, I had to say
no. Then I had to wait through one of those tense, unsettled silences as John stopped
spanking me with his hand and reached out to pick up what would turn out to be my worst
nightmare from the table: a wooden bath brush!
I knew then that John was going to make sure I learned my lesson before the night was
over, and braced myself. I knew that brush was going to hurt, and I realized how right I was
when the first spank landed. YEEOWWCH! That brush hurt all right, and more and more as
15
John kept the spanks coming. I started squirming like crazy before as John covered my bottom
from right to left and then on to my thighs. My bottom was on fire and he was just starting!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The sound of the brush cracking mingled
with my ouches and sincere pleas for
John to slow down or stop. His only
response was to say that he was far from
finished. He then ignored my frantic
pleas and promises and continued to
swat my stinging, burning bottom until I
was beside myself and begging for mercy.
John finally let me up, but only to tell me
to put on something more comfortable. I
went into the bedroom, slipped off
everything, and put on a short baby-doll
nightie I’d bought for Jack. He had a
thing for baby-dolls and I was fairly
certain that John would like it, too. It
was cute and sexy and naughtily girlish,
and I looked great in it, too.
When I came out, I saw that John had
moved to the couch. He told me to sit
beside him. He asked me how my naughty
backside felt and I truthfully told him
that it was tender and warm now, but
had felt like it was being stung by a
swarm of angry killer bees for a while
there while I was over his knees!
John just looked at me, smiled and said
he knew with this air of confidence that sent a scary thrill through me before he repeated
that I had a lot of long distance misbehavior to pay for. With that, John directed me to go
and stand by the chair while he went to where the other toys I’d brought to New York at
Jack’s request were displayed. They were a thick, soft leather strap about 18 inches long;
a vintage ivory hairbrush; a birch bundle made of stingy plastic rods about foot long, and
a clear plastic paddle a little bigger than a Ping-Pong paddle.
Jack hadn’t had the personal pleasure of using any of them before, and John hadn’t
either. He had me lean over the chair with my hands on each arm rest. He then took his
sweet time choosing which of my “toys” to use first. They’d all been tested on and tasted
by me, and did the job they were intended to do. But they all hurt differently and John
could only guess which was the best and worst to me.
I hoped for the best, of course, and was relieved when I got it. John chose the leather
strap to start with and whipped exactly 20 stripes across my ass after he peeled down the
even frillier panties I was wearing with the baby-doll nightie. The leather strap was
actually the least severe of the implements I’d brought in my opinion, but I’ve got to tell
you that after the spanking I’d already received with that bath brush of John's, the
leather strap and the stripes it left behind burned, stung and hurt more than I expected.
John knew it too, and continued to unpleasantly surprise me anew with each “toy” he
chose to use. Knowing what I did about them made the anticipation worse, and the
applications were no picnic, either. John was maddeningly methodical and cool as ice as
he administered the amount of spanks he arbitrarily decided to with each toy.
John picked the plastic paddle next and had a great time enjoying the clear view it gave
him of my bottom cheeks as it flatted them and made them bobble and blush more. That
paddle made them burn more too, and I would’ve sworn that my ass was pressed up
against a heater on high if I didn’t know better when John stopped at 20 swats.
My bottom and I didn’t have much time to feel relieved before John told me the next
16
dose would be with the ivory hairbrush and for my birthday. I’d taunted him about a
birthday spanking from the safety of home during our talks, but I didn’t want him to
remember right then. Forty spanks with the ivory brush I’d tested, tasted and was
terrified of?! I couldn’t believe it! How come I couldn’t have been 20 instead of 40?
“Because I said so,” was John’s answer, and the way he said it told me the matter
was closed. I knew all I’d do is open the dangerous door to getting more than 40 if I
didn’t buckle under, so I did. Reluctantly. I settled back down over the chair and
dropped my head as a sign of submission.
John wanted more and told me to count
each spank and that we would start again
from the beginning if I missed any. Then,
he demanded to know if I understood and
made me say, “Yes, Sir!”, when I only
nodded and mumbled yeah.
WHACK! “One!” I called out loudly. I
wanted to make darn sure he heard me!
WHACK! “Two.”
WHACK! “Three. Owwww!” I cried.
WHACK! “Four! No more!” I pleaded.
John ignored me and on and on it went.
He smacked, I counted, which I really hate
doing. You know exactly how many more
you are going to get even as you start
believing you’ll never make it and praying
you won’t lose count. I prefer the mystery
of not knowing or having to keep count as
it becomes harder and harder to do when
your bare bottom and upper thighs are
screaming in agony as much as mine were
under the assault of that hard, heavy piece
of carved ivory.
WHACK! Finally! I cried out, “Forty!”,
with all the heated enthusiasm my
scalding seat demanded in addition to a
block of ice for me to sit on. I was relieved
again and relaxed. Then, WHACK!, I was As you can see from the watermark & would
surprised as the brush kissed me again. probably know from his unmistakable style, the
I’d forgotten that silly superstition about drawing above & others in this issue are the work
of Endart, one of the most talented, versatile &
one for good luck! But I didn’t forget the
prolific spanking artists of our time. Now retired,
count and desperately yelled “forty one!” his art will no doubt live on forever via the
Neither my bottom nor I wanted another numerous pieces now available on-line.
spank as I collapsed over the chair and hoped
that John was satisfied or would stop for a while and give me and my poor bottom a
chance to recover. The raging inferno had died down as soon as John stopped fanning it
with the ivory hairbrush, but my buns didn’t stop stinging and burning beneath the
bright blush I could see covering them when I peeked back and twisted my hips to see.
I looked for John next and saw him standing by my toy display. I hadn’t lost count of
how many of them were left, and felt true terror at the thought of him using the plastic
birch on me any time soon! It was a gift and I was nothing but grateful until I experienced
its wickedness. Then, I feared it and the bite each of the 12 (I counted) plastic rods
bundled together take when they land with snap and spread out. OUCH!
I told myself that John wouldn’t, couldn’t continue with the birch right away. But he
could, and did after calling me over to the couch for another trip over his lap. It felt a
lot better being stretched out along the couch than bent over the chair, but there was
now way to get comfortable with the birch in John’s hand. He whipped it through the

17
air to get used to it and fast enough to make it whistle. Then he smacked his other
palm with it and whistled, “Ow and Wow!”
“Yeah, that’s right!” I think I said as I jumped on the opportunity to plead for John
not to use the birch at all or only lightly if he did. I told him I was sincerely regretting
my emails and phone taunts about how he would have trouble handling me if and when
we met and that I would wear him out. My head hung down and I was very close to
tears as I waited for John’s response. Then, when it came and I couldn’t slither off
John’s lap, I could only whimper and wonder how I was going to survive.
“I told you what to expect too many times already to waste my breath again, young
lady,” John said in a very stern tone. He then added, “It’s time to show you now and
teach you a lesson to take back with you and remember...”
John started birching my bare behind without a real word warning. TH WHAACK! The
birch and its awful plastic rods just came whistling down and I thought I was going to
fly off John’s lap! With each smack of that awful thing, I promised anything I could
think of to prove I’d learned my lesson: I swore I'd call John “Sir" when I addressed
him, mind my manners, watch my bratty behavior, my mouth, and my attitude. I would
have promised anything he asked if it would have stopped my spanking!
Finally, satisfied, John stopped and let me off his lap. I hopped up and away from
him as fast as I could. My hands shot back to my poor bottom and I yipped and yelped
as I cupped my burning buns in my cooler hands trying to soothe them. I didn’t break
down and bawl, but I was sniffling, snorting and felt a lot more like a soundly spanked
little girl than a 40 year-old woman.
I suddenly heard John ask, “Have you learned your lesson, brat?”, and gushed back,
“Ohmygawd! YES! YES!! YES!!! I HAVE! I HAVE!! I HAVE!!!” I hadn’t been spanked so
well or soundly by any of my previous partners and rushed to tell John. I didn’t want
him to think of spanking me any more, and wasn’t sure I’d let him if he did. My poor
bottom and I had all we could handle for one night!
“I agree,” John said with that air of confidence again, but this time it stilled my fears
and filled me with a wonderful sense of relief and salvation. It got better when John
applied some of the cooling aloe vera ointment I’d brought along just in case, and I was
able to start enjoying the afterglow before the man who’d just given me the best
spanking of my life had to leave.
Two and half hours had flown by since John walked through the door, and he had
about a two hour drive home if he missed the traffic at the tunnel to New Jersey he had
to take. I didn’t want to be alone and hated to see John go, but I had to and took
comfort in the words he left me with.
John looked deep into my soul as we hugged and said he seriously hoped I had
learned my lesson because my next spanking would make this one seem like a walk in
the park if I reverted to my bratty, defiant ways.
“Is that understood young lady?”
“Yes, sir.” I assured him.
A final kiss and I watched John walk down the hall and out of sight. I was very glad
later that when I went to bed, I normally slept on my stomach. One look in the mirror
the next morning and John’s handiwork came shining through. As I stood there, my
bottom naked, my cheeks were still very bright red, my thighs were red and a little bit
bruised and as I ran my hand over my bottom, the pain was still very evident. In fact,
every time that I sat down that day, I had to use a pillow.
Also, I had meant it when I promised to behave in future. But, with all honesty, I
have had a lot of years of practicing my bratty ways and I still need to be taken in
hand. After all, once a brat, always a brat. So there! — Jill

You’re right, Jill, and I’m sure your fabulously firm-handed male friend wasn’t
surprised when you reverted to your old ways when you and your bratty bottom were
safely out of the reach. I’m also sure he wouldn’t want it any other way. Thanks for great
letter. It really too me back to the days when I was just staring out. — Barbara
18
 Just 4 Laughs!
Courtesy of talented cartoonist & kindred spanking spirit, Dave Wolfe!
Enjoy more of him via his awesome active blog: Wolfietoons.blogspot.com

19
Thanks Dave!
20
 Spanking Chatroom Leads to Satisfaction!
I met a woman online through a spanking chatroom. Her name was Nicole. Our first
chat was a bit sticky. By that I mean I’m a terrible typist and would much rather have
talked to her on the phone or in person. But when we finally cut through all the first-time-
meeting questions, things ran rather smoothly and soon we changed chatting to finally
talking on the phone to setting up a face to face meeting.
It might have been too fast for some of you, but in the business I am in, I travel a lot. So
call it fate or just plain luck, but in a week, I was headed to where Nicole lived. I had to
spend three days there for business, but my evenings were free. We both felt that we had
connected when we talked about our past spanking experiences, especially when the
subject of role-playing was brought up by Nicole. When she described all the previous role-
playing she had done in her past, the tone of her voice suddenly came alive with a certain
feistiness and excitement.
We decided that our first meeting would be over dinner. Then if we liked each other, we
would go back to my hotel room to see how we matched as spanker and spankee.
Everything worked out as if we were made for each other. That first night it was just her
introduction to me as a well-experienced spanker and my introduction to her as an
experienced spankee with a great bottom that turned vibrant shades of pink and red. So
we planned to meet the following night, have dinner and then go back to my hotel room.
This time Nicole brought a couple of outfits with her.
One scenario she liked was a husband/wife situation where she’s gone to a party with
him in a smutty outfit, gotten tipsy, flirted, gotten loud and generally disgraced herself.
For this scenario, she wore an outrageously short and tight red mini-skirt with a tube top,
garters and stockings, spike-heeled shoes, etc. I usually felt more than a little self-
21
 conscious at first when I had done
scenarios in the past, but Nicole made it
quite easy for me to play the unhappy and
embarrassed husband and I got comfortable
with it pretty quickly and enjoyed it
thoroughly, especially warming her naughty
bottom over my knee.
Then she put on a cute little schoolgirl
outfit and I was her father, greeting her
coming in late from a forbidden spree after
an out-of-town event of some sort. I brought
a straight backed chair in for this one. I
gave her a very formal lecture, told her how
she was to be punished, and finally ordered
her to pull down her panties and get across
my knee. She did a great job as the
delinquent daughter, arguing, whining and
pouting before reluctantly lowering her
panties and assuming the position. I gave
her a good, sound, fatherly spanking,
lectured her some more, and then
questioned her further about her activities
that evening.
She admitted to even more serious
mischief than I’d previously suspected, so I
ordered her off my lap and sent her to stand
in the corner with her panties down and her
little skirt held up. She did so most For better & worse, times have changed &
obediently and provided me with a classic getting spanked at work (or any place else)
and delicious portrait of a punished by a modern American man is just about
teenaged girl. After a few minutes, I directed
her to turn around and face me. As she did,
ALL UP TO US EMPOWERED,
I stood up, and pulled off my belt. LIBERATED WOMEN RIGHT NOW!
Now, Nicole had told me in our phone
calls that one of her biggest thrills was
seeing a man taking his belt off. So I obliged
that evening by wearing a nice wide, supple
leather belt. It was two inches wide, an
eighth of an inch thick, smooth and very
limber for its weight. Earlier in the evening,
she’d commented on what a nice belt I was
wearing and I’d informed her that I didn’t
plan to keep it on all night.
Her eyes widened with what I have to
believe was genuine trepidation as my belt
popped through the loops of my pants.
Without a word, I doubled it, grabbed her
arm and yanked her back across my lap. I ENJOY IT! CELEBRATE IT! USE IT
clamped my right leg across the back of her
knees and then began to thoroughly spank HOWEVER YOU LIKE! AND PLEASE
her bottom. TELL US ALL ABOUT IT
After a nice, long session across my knee, I when you do or did since special women like
ordered her to kneel on the bed with her
head and shoulders on the mattress and her
us have always had to be bold with some
bottom raised high. I stood to her left,
dense bosses & assorted other males in our
carefully measured the length of the belt lives & can use all the encouragement we
against the distance to its tender target, and can get!
22
then slapped that substantial strap across her naked, upraised haunches with a
resounding “WHAP!” She squealed and wriggled, but remained in position as I reached
back and laid another stinging swipe on her delicious derriere.
I had promised her twenty strokes for her outrageous behavior and she got the full
course, counting each as it came. In truth, I didn’t apply the belt as hard as I could have,
but I didn’t hold back a whole lot, and her bottom was striped crimson by the time it was
over.
We probably played for nearly four hours that evening. She doused me with water,
teased and taunted, and perpetrated all manner of naughtiness, and I spanked her in her
bra and panties, in her night gown, and in her birthday suit. I had an early business
meeting the next morning and had to be at the airport by 6 a.m.., but we were having so
much fun, I didn’t get to bed until 2:30 a.m. It was worth every minute of my meeting with
Nicole. I was very tired, but a very happy guy.
My only disappointment was leaving Nicole behind and knowing that getting together will
always be as hard as it was the first time because of how far apart we live and our
situations. But, I can’t complain. I know I was very lucky and wouldn’t trade a moment or a
memory. Thanks Nicole! — Randy

You were lucky to find such a compatible partner, Randy, and thank you for sharing the
story of your spanking-hot first meeting! It sounds like you two squeezed every drop of
satisfaction out of it as you could and should have. Good for you! Please do let us know if
and when you get together again. -- Barb!

Some Rules Should Be Broken!!

As a lawyer with a small, successful private practice specializing in wills, trusts and
family finances and a secret fetish for spanking female fannies, I’ve encountered hundreds
of females of all ages, shapes and sizes that needed or deserved a trip over my knees more
than my legal services for being as bitchy, greedy, manipulative and violent as women can
23
be when money is on the line. I’ve also had my share of incompetent employees over the
years, but only once have I risked breaking my rule about bringing my personal spanking
beliefs and proclivities into my profession.
It happened a few years ago when my office manager asked me about hiring a high school
student for a part-time position after school. She said we could use the help with the filing,
photocopying and so on, and that she had the perfect candidate in line. She told me the girl
was 16, bright, reliable and a personal friend since she’d moved in with her grandmother
after the death of her mother.
I was a little skeptical about hiring a teenager, but I trusted my office manager and told
her to hire the girl. Valerie came in promptly at 3:30 the next day, and I had to agree that
she was both bright and resourceful. I also thought she had a pleasant personality and was
very good to admire from afar. Valerie was petite, slim, about 5’3", with firm, nice sized
breasts, a very pretty face, long brown hair, hazel eyes, and she had an innocent sexy appeal
that drove the college boys wild. And I should add, her trim waist and great, apple-cheeked
bottom drove me wild when she wore tight jeans or a skirt.
Very schoolgirl spankable and exactly my type, although I didn’t say so or think that I
would ever spank Valerie. She was tense at first when I was around, but over time she
relaxed enough to laugh at my jokes and let me see that she really was a sweet kid: She
started trusting me enough to ask for my opinion eventually and tell me things about her
personal life, and we developed a combination father/daughter, big brother/sister
relationship over the course of about a year.
Valerie and I got on so well that I felt safe to innocently threaten to spank her if she
made a big mistake every now and again. Usually she’d just giggle and go about her
business. But, sometimes she would play along, look frightened, and say she hated being
spanked while dancing away swinging her pretty hips. It was innocent fun and neither of us
made much out of it, but I couldn’t help imagining her over my knee.
I found out later that she imagined about being there too, but it didn’t cross my mind until
one day when Valerie asked me if she could work some extra hours on Saturday to make more
money for the holidays? I hadn’t really planned on working the whole day, but the kid really
needed the money, and I liked her, so I lied and said I’d been planning to be working that
Saturday anyway and would have some things for her to do.
Well, I was in my office by 9:00 sharp, but Valerie didn’t show up until almost noon. Seems
she had been out with one of her many boyfriends the night before and had gotten in late and
overslept. I was a little steamed, but it wasn’t that long ago that I was her age, and I shrugged
it off. It was a Saturday, after all, and Valerie was usually prompt anyway.
I gave Valerie a list of things I needed and soon found that her being late wasn’t going to be
her only problem that day. Val was usually efficient, but to make matters worse, she had
apparently gotten a little drunk the night before too, and her mind was not clear at all this
Saturday. She kept interrupting me with questions we both knew she should have known the
answers to and made silly mistakes over and over again. I liked Valerie and managed to stay
pleasantly patient, but underneath, I was getting more and more angry, especially as the
afternoon off I’d sacrificed wore on and I knew it had been a total waste of time.
It was a long afternoon, but finally, quitting time was near at hand. I was sitting in my
office with the door open, waiting for Valerie to finish her last chore of the day and,
occasionally, treating myself to a glimpse of Valerie’s cute backside as she passed. After what
she’d put me through that day and thinking that she had really earned a spanking, it was easy
imagining her draped over my knee while I gave it to her.
Finally, I heard Valerie coming and smiled as she dropped the stack of contracts on my
desk. I’d managed to rearrange my schedule for the following Monday, knowing we’d be in
today, and had Valerie print and copy the contracts I’d revised for the early meeting. We
exchanged a little banter before Valerie left and I opened the top contract.
I could hardly believe what I saw as I paged through one, then another of the 35 page
contracts she’d just given me. They were useless! Valerie had printed out the old version.
Every one of the five copies was a waste of time and paper. It was too much! I called Valerie
into my office and pointed out her error, managing to control my frustration and not read her
the riot act when she casually replied that her error wasn’t a big a deal because Evelyn could
copy it on Monday morning.
24
 Trying to keep my simmering anger from exploding, I told her that I needed the contracts for
an 8:30 meeting Monday morning and she would have to copy the right one at once. Valerie
said that she would be glad to, if she didn’t have a date to get home and ready for that night.
She then went on to shoot down what I said about coming in over the weekend to do it by
telling me that she had plans to go away.
As part of my profession, I’ve had to learn to emotionally detach and appear objective, but at
that moment, it took all of my will to get hold of my temper. Valerie was young and sometimes
careless. thoughtless, bitchy and bratty. But she’d never acted like this before and I thought
she had to be joking until I saw her getting her purse out of the desk. I knew she was serious
then and, trying not to shout, I asked Valerie where she thought she was going?
Valerie said she’d told me that she had a date. Still attempting to keep my temper, I asked
her if her date was more important to her than her job? Valerie read between the lines and
realized what I was saying, but she didn’t like it and grew more annoyed. “Okay, fine!” Valerie
snorted. “I’ll cancel my date and do the contracts over right now. Happy?”
“Yes and no,” I replied. I told the pouting young woman I was happy that she’d made the
right decision, but that I wasn’t pleased by her attitude. I reminded her of just some of the
many things I’d gone out of my way to do to help her and expected her to feel some gratitude
and regret for the way she was treating me. But she didn’t and wouldn’t feel anything but
angry and spiteful until I got fed up with her banging the drawers of her desk and, especially,
the top of the copier machine we relied on so heavily every day.
The idea that Valerie would risk breaking it added fuel to the fires smoldering in me I called
out for her to be more careful. Then, when the only reply I got came from the copy machine
being slammed shut again, I charged out of my office and over to Valerie. I grabbed her by the
ear and led her toward my office, not considering any repercussions and too angry to care.
Valerie reacted as any 18 year-old brat would. She shrieked and shouted for me to let her go
and tried to get free. Then, when she couldn’t without losing an ear, she demanded to know
what I thought I was doing. I told her that she was about to get the spanking I had been
promising her for years and should obviously have given her before.
“W-What? N-No! Y-You can’t spank me!” Valerie protested. She said I wasn’t her father and
insisted that she was too old to be spanked anyway. She then threatened to go to the police if I
hit her and assured me that I’d regret what I was doing to my dying day.
25
 “Wanna bet?” I muttered. I reminded her that I was a lawyer of good repute, and that there
were no witnesses in the office.
“N-Now, boss”, Valerie sputtered, starting to look a bit worried, “Let’s be reasonable about
this! We’re both adults, we can talk this out!”
“Only one of us is an adult,” was my reply. By then I had reached my desk and, still holding
her earlobe, I sat down. All the way into my office I had been considering baring her bottom,
but at the last moment I thought better of it. Besides, Valerie was wearing tight jeans that day
and I didn’t want to waste the time it would take to get them open and pull them down.
“Come on, you can’t ” Valerie’s plea was cut off in mid-word as I sat down on my office
couch and yanked her down across my lap. Her hands immediately went to cover her bottom,
but I grabbed her wrists and pinned them in the small of her back. Valerie’s petite size and
meager strength were no match for me and in a second she was hanging helplessly over my
knee, her skin tight jeans hugging her apple-cheeked bottom.
“No, boss, come on, stop fooling around!” Valerie tried to sound firm, but her words were
tinged with worry. Being so vulnerably positioned had finally made her realize that her actions
and attitude weren’t cute.
“Fooling? Who’s fooling?” I replied, not taking any time to admire her bottom as I raised my
arm to deliver the first satisfying SPANK squarely across the center of her tight little cheeks.
“OOWWW! Come on! That really hurt!” She yelped and tried to twist off my lap, but I held her
firmly in place and delivered a series of three quick smacks to her left cheek followed by three more
to her right.
Valerie didn’t have a chance to protest between the smacks. She could only yelp and hiss
as the flurry had the desired effect. It satisfied me, so I did it again. Three sharp spanks in
a row to each cheek. Valerie wiggled like an eel and started to protest again, but I didn’t
pay her any attention and can’t even tell you exactly what she said. I was totally fixated on
her cute, little jean-encased fanny.
In all, I gave it about thirty, medium-hard swats before I stopped to scold and lecture my
ingrate of an employee. Hard enough to let her know this was more than just a joke and to
make her bottom sting, but not hard enough to overdue it or even to make her cry. I
intentionally sounded fatherly because of the relationship we had, and because I knew
Valerie missed not having a father. I hoped that now that I’d knocked her for a loop and
gotten her undivided attention, she’d listen to reason and admit that she’d been way off
base and deserved the spanking I was giving her.
Valerie wasn’t ready to give up yet, but she listened and sounded sincere when she said
she shouldn’t have acted the way she did. I agreed and steered her the right way with more
spanks. This time, I slapped each of her buns in turn as I spoke and harder when I wanted
to emphasize a point. Through it all, Valerie kicked and squirmed and tried to twist off my
lap, but I held her over my lap and kept spanking until I heard the confession and true
contrition I was awaiting.
“I’m sorry... OW! I shouldn’t have... OUCH! I won’t be ungrateful and selfish again... OH-
OH-OHH! P-PLEASE BOSS, STOP!”
“No, I don’t expect that you will, at least not anytime soon,” I said as I ended Valerie’s
spanking with a crisp set of three spanks to each bun that cracked loudly in the quiet office. I
then let her loose and watched as the girl jumped off my knee quickly and immediately started
to rub her bottom. I was sure her face was redder than her pert posterior and would have
loved to see for myself, but I was content with what happened and proud of myself.
I realized I was aroused as well, and thankful that Valerie didn’t seem to have noticed. I
watched her as she stood there rubbing, and awaited her reaction now that her spanking was
over and she was free to say anything she wanted and do whatever she thought she should do.
I wasn’t worried that she’d run to the police. I was sure she’d be too embarrassed to go that
far, but I wasn’t so sure that she wouldn’t tell my office manager what I’d done. She was like
Valerie’s surrogate mother, and might not take kindly to me spanking her girl.
Valerie continued to soothe her bottom in silence until I had to know how she felt and what
I had to look forward to. I decided to ask a leading question, and prepared myself for every
possible answer I could think of as I said, “Well, don’t you have something to say?”
I saw the blushing young woman standing before me open and close her mouth as if she couldn’t
speak or find the words she wanted to say. Then, in a soft voice, she mumbled, “Uh-Umm-Ahh, I’m
26
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27
sorry, boss. You’re right. I was wrong. My date can wait. I should recopy the contract before I leave.”
Valerie’s response pleased me and filed me relief. I’d wanted to make a point and saw that I
did. “Well, I’m glad you agree. It seems that the spanking worked, didn’t it?” I said, pressing
the lesson and reaching for any hope I could find of being able to spank Valerie again.
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly glad you did it and still think I’m too old to be spanked like that.
I don’t know what got into me, but I have to admit I deserved it.”
“Yes, you did,” I agreed and decided to take advantage of the opportunity Valerie’s
acceptance was giving me. “And seeing how much good it did for you, I won’t hesitate to turn
you over my knees again if you deserve it!”
Valerie gasped, blushed and her eyes opened wide. I could see her considering the
outrageous threat I’d just made and awaited her response with breathless anticipation. Would
she actually go along and agree to allow me spank her again? I hoped so, but I had big doubts
until she dropped her eyes to the floor and mumbled, “Uh oh, I guess I’d better watch myself
around you from now on, huh?”
My heart skipped a few beats and I felt instantly and totally elated. Then, figuring I had
nothing to lose and wanting to see Valerie’s reaction, I said as calmly as I could, “Because next
time, I will do it right and bare your naughty bottom first!”
“W-What?! Oh my,” Valerie gasped, but she didn’t say I better not dare or anything to
dissuade me, so I pressed again by asking her if she understood? “Ah-Um-Uh...” she
sputtered again as if considering what to say. Then, raising her eyes to meet mine for the first
time since she’d scampered off my knee, she mumbled, “Yes, boss. I understand.”
“Good,” I replied shortly. I was afraid to say much more lest I reveal how damned excited
and overjoyed I was. I’d broken a personal rule by bringing my proclivities for spanking into
the office. But it had actually worked out and gone better than I dared to imagine it could.
Valerie said she’d better get back to work and I let her go. She was efficient as she usually
is, and a little quicker due to the date she still had with a guy she’d had a crush on for years.
We realized he and Valerie’s desire to be with and impress him were the cause of her rebellion
at work that fateful Friday when we talked about it later. But, to get back to me, I couldn’t
concentrate or clear my head of the vivid memories I’d unexpectedly created until I got home
and did what I had to do to fantasies of unveiling and spanking Valerie’s shapely young booty.
I was out of the office most of the following Monday morning and wondered what Valerie’s
mood would be after a weekend to think about the spanking and promise of more I’d given her.
Did she resent me for what I’d done? Would she have told my office manager? I couldn’t know
and couldn’t help being tense, but I had the answer to both within a minute of walking in. My
office manager had not been told and Valerie did not resent me for the spanking I’d given her.
On the contrary, she gave me a big smile when she saw me and a big hug later when she
came into my office. She shyly thanked me for spanking her, and repeated what she’d said
about having to be careful. But the little minx didn’t tell me that the trip I’d given her over my
knees had turned her on, and I didn’t realize it until Valerie contrived her way back for the
bare bottom I’d promised to satisfy her curiosity. And mine.
It happened on another Saturday when we were alone in the office together, and on the
couch in mine again. I also used my hand and spanked Valerie just about as many times. But
baring her gorgeous bottom made it glorious, and watching her cute cheeks bounce and blush
made me give more away about my state of arousal than I really wanted to share with my then
seventeen-and-a-half year old employee.
I couldn’t stop it or hide the erection from Valerie. It was poking her in the tummy, and she
felt it and knew what it was and what it meant. She also knew how to wiggle and grind her
hips to tease and torture me. I wasn’t in on the little minx’s game yet, and wouldn’t be until I
came out of my daze and realized the young woman I was supposedly punishing was actually
panting and purring with pleasure!
I gave Valerie the spanking she deserved and didn’t like at all while I slapped her buns to a
ripe, tomato red. But she didn’t mind in the end and Saturday spankings became a regular
part of our professional relationship first and the close personal relationship we developed and
still share whenever we can get together! With Valerie being an attorney now too and busy just
starting out, that isn’t as often as we’d like, but we can’t complain and know how we lucky we
are that Valerie drove me to break my rule and bring spanking into the office! — RP, Esq.

I’m glad you broke your rule too, RP., and thank you for confirming that male bosses can still
spank if they’ve got the right naughty female employee to do it with! Please write again!! -- Barb
28
 Sister’s Scheme Sets Blazing Fires Burning!
There was one night when my wife’s younger sister was staying with us. I was 25, my
wife 21 and her sister 19. Laura, my wife’s sister, was attending college in a southern state
and was on a vacation. She had been staying with us for about three or four days and had
plans to leave the next morning.
Laura was a strawberry blond, very tiny and petite. She was about 5’1" tall, and if she
weighed 95 lbs., it was a lot. My wife was slightly taller, about 5’3", and just as thin.
Anyway, this night we all decided to stay home and relax. Laura had called an old
boyfriend, but he was unable to join us, so it was just the three of us. We had some wine,
smoked a few joints, and were feeling pretty good. About 9:30 or 10:00, I was trying to
watch something on TV, and the ladies were quite noisy, laughing, giggling and talking. I
asked them on several occasions to quiet down, and got nowhere. In fact, they got louder
and louder, and started directing their comments at me! Talking to themselves in stage
whispers, they were calling me a grouch, a party pooper, and other things of that type.
As I said, we had had a good amount of consciousness-altering substances by then, and
were all feeling pretty loose. My wife and I had long since made spanking a regular part of
our relationship, but never included anyone else. Nor did I have any reason to believe that
Laura shared our interest. However, emboldened by the wine, I started telling my wife
things like, “behave yourself if you know what’s good for you” and so on.
Laura picked right up on that, asking in a sarcastic voice, “oh, big, macho man! What
are you gonna do, beat us up? Real tough guy, threatening two women!”
I told Laura to watch her step or she might just get a very unpleasant surprise. She
laughed and said she wasn’t afraid of me.
The ladies kept up their teasing and finally I said to my wife, “You’re about THIS CLOSE
to getting a good spanking, so wise up unless you want a red bottom!” Cathy blushed, and
Laura’s mouth dropped at my open statement. The shocked silence was refreshing, but it
didn’t last long.
“Yeah, right. Who’s gonna do it? You? Don’t make me laugh!” Laura scoffed when she
29
recovered her composure, her eyes challenging me.
“That’s what you think!” Cathy added, feeling bold with the presence of her sister and
believing I wouldn’t do anything in front of Laura.
Feeling like my bluff had been called, I knew I had to either take action or resign myself
to being teased unmercifully for being a blowhard for the rest of the evening. I got up from
the couch and approached the brats. As I got closer, Cathy started shrinking further back
into her chair, realizing her safety in numbers theory wasn’t as foolproof as she’d thought.
Laura, not knowing the true nature of our relationship and still believing I was full of hot
air, was practically daring me to make my move. “Don’t get smart, wise guy. You know
you’d never hit your wife. Besides, there’s two of us and only one of you. Sit down and
behave before we....”
That’s as far as she got by the time I had reached where they were sitting. Grabbing my
wife by the arm, I pulled her up out of her chair, sat down in her place, and quickly toppled
her down over my lap.
“DON’T YOU DARE!” She screeched, startling Laura who now sat speechless and saucer-
eyed as Cathy’s hands shot behind her to cover up her bottom. I grabbed her wrists in my
left hand and pinned them to the small of her back, while I said, “I told you to leave me
alone, but you had to push me. Well, Cathy, you should have known better.”
I glanced over at Laura, and damned if she didn’t have a small grin on her face! Ignoring
it, I looked at her sternly and said, “A demonstration of how I push back will help you both
behave yourself next time.”
Laura obviously didn’t catch my threat because even as she stuck up for her sister, I
could see a smile in her eyes. “You bully! How dare you treat your wife that way! I hope
she divorces you!”
“Just wait, soon it’ll be your turn!” I told her, ignoring her outraged gasp and turning
my attention back to the task at hand. I reached under the waistband of Cathy’s loose
fitting shorts, and began to tug them down. That’s when Cathy started squirming like an
eel, spitting curses and threats at me for daring to treat her this way in front of her sister.
I didn’t let that stop me, though, and I pulled her shorts down to her knees. Her panties
managed to stay on, being considerably tighter than her shorts. I thought about pulling
them down as I normally did, but decided that discretion was a better idea at this point,
and glanced up at Laura to see her staring at my wife’s barely covered, squirming bottom.
She wasn’t smiling, instead she looked almost awestruck. I landed a whack to my wife’s
small, pert and very spankable behind while I kept my eyes on Laura. Her gasp sounded
almost immediately after Cathy’s and her eyes opened even wider.
I smiled to myself and set about making sure Cathy learned a lesson and Laura saw it
all.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
I gave Cathy three crisp slaps right across the middle of her bottom. “Owww, stop that
this instant you bastard!” Was Cathy’s reaction.
“You didn’t stop when I asked you to, why should I stop when you ask me to?”
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Cathy’s legs started kicking a bit, and she twisted and squirmed on my lap. I paused for
a second and glanced at Laura, whose eyes were glued to the scene being played out in
front of her, her jaw almost on the floor.
I decided that I’d better get on with it, and began to blister Cathy’s bottom in earnest.
She kicked, squirmed, threatened, pleaded and finally just lay there squalling while I
spanked a fire into her butt. Finally I let her up and as she stood there rubbing her pink
behind, Laura’s tongue finally broke loose.
“HA! That’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen! Cathy, you’re married to a
monster! If I were you I’d leave him this second! Still, you were cute to watch getting your
tail tanned. You looked just like you used to when Dad used to spank you. And you’re still
just as much of a baby about it, to! I swear, you’d have thought he was killing you!
Honestly, it was just a spanking!” She concluded.
I knew Cathy might be mad about having been spanked in front of her sister, but I also
knew that getting a spanking was one of the most exciting things that can happen to her,
so I figured there was no serious harm done. Not yet, anyway. I wasn’t sure how she would
30
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31
 react to what I had in mind for my next move, but Laura had helped by taunting Cathy.
“Just a spanking, huh?” I said to Laura. “I suppose you take a spanking much better?”
“I always did.” She replied, smirking.
“You did not!” Cathy interjected. “You used to cry and fuss just as much as I did!”
“Did not!” Sassed Laura.
“Did too!” Cathy insisted. I swear, they sounded like two 8 year olds.
“Well, let’s see how well you take THIS spanking!” I said, reaching for Laura.
“Oh no you don’t!” She said, pulling away.
“Cathy,” I said, “your sister just watched you get a good spanking and seemed to enjoy
herself. She was just as much of a pest as you were and deserves the same treatment. Are
you going to help me catch her, or are you going to let her get away with getting you
spanked and then teasing you about it?”
“She’s dead meat!” Came Cathy’s reply. She was much closer to Laura then I was, and
was able to grab her and keep her from running away while I got over to where they were. I
took Laura by her upper arms and dragged her, struggling and squirming, back to the chair
I had just vacated. I was about to pull her across my knees when Cathy said, “Hold it just
a second. She thinks she can take a spanking so well, let’s just see how well she takes a
REAL spanking! Hold her right there!” I did, and Cathy began to unfasten Laura’s jeans. I
hadn’t planned on taking down Laura’s pants, but certainly wasn’t going to complain if
Cathy wanted it that way!
Laura was twisting and protesting, but Cathy managed to get her jeans all the way down
to her ankles with little difficulty. I drew Laura across my knee and pinned her arms in the
small of her back. Cathy pulled Laura’s jeans completely off, and then reached for the
waistband of her panties! This was turning out much better than I had hoped!
“NO CATHY! DON’T YOU DARE! I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU! NO DON’T! PLEASE! OH MY
GOD! NO!” Tumbled out of her mouth in a rush as Cathy pulled her panties halfway down
her thighs. Although I couldn’t see her face, I could imagine how red Laura’s face was at
that moment and decided to give her an ass to match.
“OK, give it to her good! Let’s see how brave she is getting her bare behind paddled. I’ll
bet she’s crying before you get to 10!”
“I’ll bet you’re right.” I said, as I raised my right hand and brought it down across the
summit of her right cheek.
“OOWWWEEE!” Laura squealed, as just then I landed another stinging spank at the top
of her left cheek. “Owww Tom please don’t! You’re killing me! Let me up, please, I swear
I’ll behave. I’m sorry I... Owwwww!” Another stinger, this one right across the middle of
both cheeks. I continued spanking with gusto and with Cathy’s hearty encouragement.
Sure enough, Laura started to cry at about spank number eight
I was feeling sorry for her so I paused a moment, using the excuse of scolding her for her
behavior. “See what happens around here to naughty girls who don’t do as they’re told?
Let this be a lesson to you about teasing your sister, too!”
“Get on with it!” Cathy said, giving her sister a resounding smack on the bottom, which
started Laura wailing anew.
That gave me an idea. “Since you’re the one who’s so mad at her, why don’t you spank
her yourself?”
“What a great idea, I’d love to!” Cathy eagerly responded.
“No please don’t let her do that! She won’t stop for an hour! Please!” By now, I had already
lifted Laura off my lap, still holding her arms behind her, and stood up. Cathy quickly sat
down and I put Laura in position across her knee. She began spanking at a rapid pace, and
didn’t stop for a good fifty smacks. By the time she did stop, Laura was crying, kicking her
legs like a madwoman, and I had to help hold her down across Cathy’s lap.
Cathy finally let her up and sat there laughing out loud as Laura did the Spankee Dance
all around the living room, hopping from foot to foot and furiously rubbing her behind.
When she finally calmed down a bit, she came over to me, put her arms around me and
gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Shall we tell him now, Cath?” She said in a small voice.
“Sure, go ahead. I doubt he’ll mind now.” Cathy replied.
“Tell me what?” I asked, confused but sensing what was coming.
32
 “Well, “ Laura said, “Cathy told me how you spank her to get her turned on, and hearing
her talk about it turned me on too. I wanted to see if actually getting a spanking was as
exciting as she made it sound, and as exciting as hearing about it was.”
“That’s right!” Cathy continued, “so we set this whole evening up, trying to goad you into
spanking us. Frankly, you dove in much faster than I thought you would.”
“Well, it’s hard to restrain yourself from two terrific asses like yours.” I said. “So tell us,
Laura, how did you like it?”
“It was great! I mean it hurt like the dickens and all, but at the same time it felt, well,
you know, good , too. At least it did until Cathy started spanking me! God, she’s vicious!”
We all laughed as Laura slipped her panties on and sat down again very carefully! Then we
continued the party for a short while.
Cathy winked at me after awhile and said she was getting sleepy. It didn’t take a second
wink for me to make my own excuses and rise to anxiously escort her to our room. Laura
wasn’t fooled though, for the last expression she had on her face that night was the
prettiest pout of all time. Cathy was willing to share me for spanking, but she wasn’t going
to share me for any other games. Between me and you, I wouldn’t have minded if she’d
wanted me to! — Tom

Now that’s what I call a party! You and your wife just may have started Laura thinking
on how she can get herself a gentleman spanker of her own! Maybe in the meantime, her
brother-in-law might continue to do the honors? — Barb

Loving Those Leather Straps!!

I haven’t seen any letters yet about my favorite spanking tool: soft, sexy, leather
straps. I have quite a collection and find they get naughty ladies hotter faster, and more
convincingly than anything else. It isn’t because of the sting. Everyone knows, it isn’t the
object so much as the person applying it anyway. What else are they used for except to
warm deserving bottoms? They’re made of leather, and they’re old-fashioned.
The first time I used a strap on my current lady-friend, Mary, was during our third
meeting. Being new to anything but hand and hairbrush (hurts and bruises more she says
now), she was reluctant at first to being spanked with a strap. She said they looked
33
awfully painful, even the smaller ones, until one night.
We got back to my place after dinner. As usual, she’d succeeded in misbehaving all night
long and a spanking was in order. When I threatened her with a strapping, she surprised me
this time by saying she deserved it since she’d been so bad.
I took her by the hand, lead her into my bedroom, and opened the drawer where I keep my
collection. I made a show of deciding on which one to use and had her squirming before picking
out a small, very supple, twelve inch beauty. It’s the least fearsome looking one I have and I
didn’t want her changing her mind on me.
Her eyes were bigger than usual as I pulled her over my knee, tossed her skirt up, tugged
down her panties, and scolded her. Telling her I was gonna really tan her hide as I picked up
the strap, she strained her neck to watch the strap with wide eyes until it disappeared behind
her back.
I always tickle and caress a lady’s bottom with the strap during the scolding and before
getting started on the spanking. Watching their cheeks squirm and clench, half in nervousness
and half in pleasure, at the feel of the soft leather is a sight to behold. Mary did a good job of
upholding the tradition and was near beside herself with wanting me to start, dreading that I
would, and trying to anticipate when I’d stop tickling and start spanking.
When I decided she’d waited long enough, the first crack landed and made her cry out. It
wasn’t even as hard as some of the hand spanks I’d given her before, but the sound scared her.
Applied right, a leather strap makes a resounding crack, unique, and loud!
Being her first strapping, I took my time and planted kiss after kiss of that leather beauty up
and down each darling cheek of her bottom, starting at the tender swell of her lower cheeks,
working up to the summits and then down the other side. After I’d smacked every inch, I
stopped to let the two ends (its a split strap) run gently from the small of her back down to the
bottom of her bottom crease and back up again a couple of times. She squirmed more than ever
before, like I wanted, before I smacked her butt again with a good, sharp crack.
I covered her cheeks again in the same pattern, let the strap caress her again, and repeated
the whole thing two more times. Mary’s bottom was barely pink but she was squirming and
bucking like crazy. I’d never aroused her this much before when using my hand or hairbrush
and she was near begging me to let her up so we could make better use of the bed, arching her
back to meet the strap, splaying her legs and everything.
I asked what she thought of the strap now, and she said it was wonderful. Her spanking was
far from over. She’d been a brat, and I didn’t want her enjoying herself too much so I told her I
probably should get a bigger strap. That caught her short and she pleaded with me not to, trying
to sound convincing as she assured me her bottom was stinging plenty. I had to smile at that.
Mary didn’t know how effective my little leather darling could be, but I did, and I showed her.
Not too hard since she’d been mostly playing at dinner and hadn’t done anything to deserve a
good licking, but I put more wrist into the next smack, right across her crease along the tops of
her thighs, and she sucked in a deep breath.
On her already warmed up cheeks, the added snap had plenty of sting to let her know what
was coming. Crack after crack sounded in the room as the strap danced across her backside,
leaving satisfying, hot-pink, streaks where it landed.
Mary was still bucking like crazy, but now, more from the sting than the pleasure. I wasn’t
hitting her that hard but the strap was rising and falling in a blur that didn’t give her time to
know where, when, or how hard each slap was. I always like to finish off a spanking that covers
the whole bottom in a flash. That way, the whole bottom feels like it’s freshly fired the same
instead of just where the last stroke or two lands.
When I stopped, I held Mary there and let the strap tease her red butt, along the crease again,
over the tops of her cheeks, then down to her knees, and back up along the inside of her thighs.
She loved it and was hotter than a sparkler on the fourth of July by the time I let her up and we
rolled to the middle of the bed for a fitting conclusion. She apologized for misbehaving, nearly
wearing me out by the time she was done!
Mary’s gotten real familiar with my whole collection of straps since then. Her favorite is the
little one I used that first time, so we use it when she’s only been slightly naughty. Which
is most of the time. She gets a tanning, but it’s more erotic than anything.
When she’s bad, like when her temper gets going, and needs a real licking, I put one of
my heavier straps to where it’ll do the most good!
34
 Then, I make her lie on the bed and tan her hide until she’s crying like a calf at branding
time! Mary doesn’t consider it fun at all when I’m disciplining her. She tries her best to
stay in place, but halfway through she’s rolling from side to side so much that I have to put
her over my knee and hold her while I finish the spanking with my hand.

Fetching flick pics above/others enhancing this letter courtesy of/copyright DREAMSOFSPANKING.COM,
the official home of well known & respected switchable UK spanking performer, PANDORA BLAKE.
(pictured above) Her great membership site features a wonderfully whacky array of fantasy-cum-true CP
flicks, photos & screen grabs for every spanking taste, including our three faves (F/M, F/F, M/F) & some
M/M fare, too. Click pic/link to check out this classy producer right now!

Her bottom is glowing red and sore by then so my hand makes almost as good an
impression while I finish the job with a couple dozen good slaps to each cheek and her
upper thighs. Mary’s howls are just as loud while I’m spanking her by hand so I know the
strap has got her good and tenderized. When I let her go, she does the cutest, fastest Texas
two-step you ever saw while she rubs and rubs her fresh tanned hide.
When she quiets some, it’s off to the corner with the strap laying over her shoulder. She
hates that, which is why I do it, because she can’t help but feel and smell the leather even
while her bottom is throbbing from it. By the time I go get her for some hugging and
consoling, Mary’s learned her lesson. For the rest of the night, she sits down real careful
and squirms around like a fidgety kid.
Mary loves that little strap. She hates all the others. That’s alright, because either way,
she’s sure got a healthy respect for what a strap can do now, guaranteed! — Buck

It sounds to me that you have Mary’s number, Buck! And I have to agree with you. Leather
straps, paddles, belts and so on can be used in so many more ways than wood and what’s nice, if
used correctly, they can give a lady a good hiding without leaving any marks. Just a nice warming
both inside and out! Mary got lucky when she found a guy who knows how to use leather! — Barb

35
 SPARE the ROD &
SPOIL the...WIFE!?!
No kids in the famous bible quote this time, or kidding
either, save for the comedy written into PERMISSION,
the irreverently whacky off Broadway play by Robert
Askins, author of the darkly subversive Broadway &
London hit, “Hand to God”. Based on our favorite
kink in the very real form of CHRISTIAN DOMESTIC
DISCIPLINE of all things, the play entertained MCC
Theater audiences five times each week at The
Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher Street, New
York, NY from 2015 until June 2017 when the stage
lights finally faded to black. However, as you’ll see in
this unfortunately after the fact feature, the legacy of
Permission lives on for now here &, no doubt, in the
hearts & minds who saw Eric & Cyndy (Justin Bartha
& Elizabeth Reaser) decide to follow the lead of their
friends Zach & Shelley (Lucas Near-Verbrugghe &
Nicole Lowrance) & make the real life practice of
Christian Domestic Discipline the foundation of their
marriage only to discover that restructuring their lives
& union according to role play & a new moral code
upends everything they knew--& took for granted--
about one another, their friends, & more importantly,
who really holds the power.

Zach (Lucas Near-Verbrugghe) spanks wife Michelle (Nicole Lowrance) while friends Eric (Justin
Bartha) & wife, Cynthia (Elizabeth Reaser) look on in amazement & amusement, respectively.
36
 Eric (Justin Bartha) & wife, Cynthia (Elizabeth Reaser) looking sexy & skeptical above & strikingly different
below in what has to be a real, rousing bit of discipline from her God-fearing hubby & his leather belt!!

Links to additional PERMISSION articles & reviews

NY Times Review: ‘Permission’ and Spankings at the Lucille Lortel Theater, By CHARLES ISHERWOOD
Article: Safely Costuming ‘Permission,’ a High-Impact Comedy From Robert Askins, By ALEXIS SOLOSKI

37
 Costume Designer shows off a pair of padded panties she came up with to spare the bottoms
of Persmission’s plucky actresses over the course of the five performances they put on every week!

Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it
yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. - Hebrews 12:11
This website is intended to be a haven for married couples who practise safe and consensual Christian
Domestic Discipline (CDD), or for those who would like to learn more about CDD. It is intended to
provide support and encouragement for those who believe in traditional Christian marriage, with the
husband as the head of the household, and the wife as his helpmeet...
http://www.christiandomesticdiscipline.com/
Click link above & check it out if you have an internet connection
38
 ON THE AIR By Courtney
“Chrissy, where have you been?”
“Out.”
“Very cute. Where?”
“It’s none of your business. I don’t have to report my every move to you!”
“You do, if you’ve stood me up, young lady! Now, I’m going to ask you again. Where
were you?”
Chrissy knew she was pushing Robin’s buttons. She knew that he hated to be kept
waiting and that he became absolutely livid when she played her little avoidance games.
Well, he could learn to deal with her as is, or he could just get over being the controlling
tyrant he was. In his current state of perpetual up-tightness, he was risking certain ulcer
problems; and there was always the possibility of a heart attack! Robin needed to chill out
and get real. She wasn’t some little Barbie Doll who waited on a man hand and foot. Nor
was she used to having her decisions questioned.
They had started working at the radio station together about six months ago. A new talk
show format had been developed, and Robin and Chrissy had been hired as co-hosts: sort
of a “HE SAID/SHE SAID, POINT/COUNTER-POINT” source of controversy. The age-old
battle of the sexes! The station had it’s money where its mouth was, and spent the big
bucks to lure popular radio personalities who would set Boston’s air waves on fire. So far,
ratings were good and steadily rising. The listening audience was finding the love-hate
chemistry between Robin and Chrissy great fun.
The show was given the prime slot: 8:00 a.m.- 11:00 a.m., Monday through Friday. This
daily verbal sparring match combined with special appearances at local events and on college
campuses; also taped segments for the afternoon television talk shows, had boosted their
visibility and marketability to new heights. Needless to say, the station and their producer,
Tom Kennelly, were very happy with the results of Chrissy’s and Robin’s on-air charisma.

39
 “Chrissy, I’m waiting for an explanation. Why didn’t you call me? Or better yet, actually
fulfill your obligation to meet me? Damn it, you know we have lots of research to do for the
upcoming shows. I hate for us to be unprepared.” Running his hands through his hair,
Robin paced up and down the living room. “You can’t always slide through life on the seat
of your pants, you know!”
“Ooh, how original! Robin, this is getting old really fast.” God, she thought, we’re
sounding just like we’re in a middle of a show! When would he get off his high horse? She
walked over to the pacing man-machine and tried her best little girl voice. “Robin honey,
let’s try to talk to each other as real people, not as if we’re trying to increase our market
share during sweeps week!..Please?..Can I have a drink: a glass of water, juice, straight
scotch,.cyanide perhaps? Anything at all will do.” He clearly has no sense of fun at all,
she decided. She had even asked oh, so sweetly! What a bore.
Chrissy could be the most annoying, exasperating, belligerent, arrogant, fascinating,
amusing, incredibly smart (too smart for her own good!), and unfortunately the most
sexually enticing woman Robin had ever met. Normally, he could handle a feisty brat with
his own brand of firmness and understanding. But, Chrissy was his partner. As a team,
they were thrust together constantly and the very tension that made them a success, was
making him crazy off the air. And the worst part was he liked it! Well...???
“Robin, do you have anything to eat? I’m really starving.” He couldn’t believe she said
that! “You know, if you had shown up at the restaurant where you were supposed to have
met me three hours ago, your little tummy would be full right now! Will you get out of my
refrigerator!”
“Boy, you have a lot of frozen stuff in here. Home made; I’m impressed. And all labelled
neatly with the date. Do you actually cook this stuff, or does Mom send care packages to
her little boy to squirrel away in the event of a natural disaster? Oh look, quiche mix!
Now, what was that book several years ago, something about real men not eating quiche?
Wasn’t that a great statement on the American Male? Well, I can see you didn’t let them
dictate to you. Robs, you can cook for me anytime. I’m simply a disaster in the kitchen.
And while you’re at it, my kitchen floor needs to be mopped, laundry ironed, rugs
vacuumed, windows washed. Look, why don’t you pop by my apartment, say, Tuesday’s
and Friday’s...”
“ENOUGH!” He slammed the refrigerator door shut. “You have wasted my time keeping
me waiting at the restaurant. You have the unmitigated gall to show up unannounced at
my home expecting drinks and dinner. And now you want to hire me to be your maid???”
Chrissy broke in. “Hey, wait a minute, Boy Wonder, I never said I was hiring you to do
those chores. No way!”
“Chrissy, when I took this gig, I knew you’d be difficult to work with, but, I’m a
professional. I expected you to be too!”
“Robin, no money would exchange hands. Considering your pathetic little empty life, I
was giving you an opportunity to fill your hours productively, when you aren’t reading,
analyzing, and researching everything to death! There’s a lot to be said for fun and
spontaneity in life, Robin. You should try it sometime!” At that, Chrissy opened the
refrigerator, grabbed a can of whipped cream, aimed and fired at Robin’s aghast face! He
was covered by the gooey stuff in a matter of seconds. He was too stunned to move.
Chrissy calmly threw a dish towel at him, and beat a hasty retreat! “Ta ta, Betty
Crocker. See you at the station bright and early!” She disappeared out the door.
6:00 a.m. comes all too early in the day, Chrissy decided. She sleep-walked into her
office at the station, and collapsed behind her desk. She needed coffee! She buzzed her
producer. “Tom, do you have any life-sustaining substances in there?” “You’re late, Chris.
I think you’d better come into my office, pronto. We seem to have a problem with today’s
show.” “Oh no, not today”, Chrissy mumbled. She dropped her head on the desk, and
banged it up and down repeatedly for several seconds.
“Let’s get something straight, boys and girls, we have a show to do. You’ve been hired to
be the hosts, the anchors, the STARS, if you will. You have contracts that you will honor!”
Tom’s producer hat was firmly in place today, Chrissy wryly observed. “Now Robin, please
explain to me again why you can’t do the show today. Enlighten me with the details; I’m
sure Chrissy will be very interested.”
40
WOW! Talk about up close & personal & you’ve got to consider the wheelbarrow position at
the top of the OMG list of really, really revealing ways to spank a deserving damsel or Dame
as demonstrated in these delightfully decadent pics courtesy of/copyright
FIRMHANDSPANKING.COM featuring the devilishly desirable DANI DANIELS
Click pics or link above to jump to the site right now!

41
 Robin warmed to his subject. He had lain awake most of the night trying to decide what
to do about Chrissy. He could not let her get away with her blatant disregard of his
feelings. “Tom, I love working here. I love Boston. I love the exposure and all the
possibilities that it will bring. But, I can’t continue to associate with this inconsiderate,
spoiled, selfish, unprofessional person! I’ve tried to teach her to be prepared, that we
should work together off-air, so we can be even better on. Chrissy has routed every
suggestion; trampled my every effort to make us a better team!”
“Just a minute! Who do you think you are, Your Holiness? I’ve been hosting radio as
long as you. I have my own style. You have no right to complain, buddy. Have I ever let
you down on the air? Never! You might not like my approach, but it works, doesn’t it?
You pompous know-it-all! Tom, do you have a problem with my work? Do the engineers?
No. I’m a vital, vibrant... Oh wait, wait! Do you know what this little grand standing stunt
is about, Tom? Did he tell you why he’s so pissed off at me? I sprayed his highness with a
little whipped cream last night! What’s the matter Robin, is your manhood in question?”
Tom physically put himself between his two stars. “Okay, now what do we do? Robin
you have to do the show today. It’s now less than two hours to air. Chrissy, you really
should apologize for pulling the whipped cream bit. It was inappropriate and not to
mention, childish.” Tom burst out laughing! Robin stormed to his feet! “Save your
apologies, Christina! And thank you Tom, for the kind understanding! I will do the show
today, and little lady, you’d better hold on to your hat. You are going to need a rocket to
keep up with me today! And, Tom, I suggest you have a front row seat for this show. I
promise it will make radio history!”
Robin stomped off, trying to decide if he was actually going to go through with his plan.
What he ought to do, and what he’d been fantasizing about for months, was taking the
cherub Chrissy over his knee and giving her the spanking that was long over due! Last
night she had escaped in the nick of time. If he had moved a little faster, he would have
taken her in hand, and given her the licking she would never, ever forget! He kicked
himself for missing that golden opportunity. By spanking her bottom, he knew that it
would also release some of the sexual frustration she generated in him. It almost seemed
that she purposefully stages these incidents with him. Maybe she was taking her
frustrations out on him? Why didn’t he just show her that he could give as good as he got?
Oh yes, he’d held back for the last time!
“Boston, arise and walk! Welcome to the show, faithful followers. And a very good,
restful morning to you, Robin, old buddy, old pal.” Robin joined in. “And a good morning
to you, Christina.” She shot him a look: what was this ‘Christina’ crap all of a sudden?
“Today we have a lot of ground to cover; letters to respond to, news updates, and some
surprises that I think you’ll enjoy. Also, our regular phone-in feature is at your service.”
“Well, this is pretty boring.” Chrissy groaned. She threw caution to the wind. “I heard a
fascinating story this morning, Robin. I wonder if you could tell our listening audience
what it’s like to go ten rounds with a can of Sara Lee whipped cream? Care to share any
thoughts or comments for the folks at home? I know I’m all a tingle with anticipation for
your answer. Folks, how does a grown man deal with a fetish of this sort? Please use
those phone lines to share with Robin any advice on his “cream” problem. What no words
of wisdom from our Happy Camper here?” Robin shook his head. He couldn’t believe that
she had started in already.
“Well Christina, speaking of fetishes, I do have a confession to make. Folks, I have a
fantasy that I would like to fulfill on the air today.” Now this is getting interesting , Chrissy
thought. She gave Robin the thumbs-up sign. Meanwhile, Tom was in the control booth
starting to get a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Yes, folks, I have a burning desire to share with you something that I’ve kept hidden for
the last several months. And with Christina’s help, I’m ready to unburden my soul.” Robin
slid his chair closer to Chrissy and took her hand. “Yes, everybody, it’s this little lady right
beside me who has given me the inspiration to do THIS!!!”
Chrissy felt herself lifted out of her chair, sailing over Robin’s lap. “What are you doing,
Robin? Let me up this minute!” She was struggling like crazy to get free of him.
“Folks, since you are out there in radio-land, I will have to give you the color
commentary. Christina has been a very mischievous, misbehaving little brat! And right
42
now she is over my knees, kicking and fighting. I think she has figured out that she is
going to be on the receiving end of a good spanking!”
In the booth, Tom started to pop Tums non-stop. He sighed and started for the door into
the studio. Aw what the hell, he thought. She deserves to be spanked, and Robin has the
right to do it. He’s had her foot prints on his back for months. Hey, maybe this will boost
ratings even more. Yeah! This could provide some real interesting publicity.
Robin was paddling Chrissy’s writhing bottom with nothing less than pure joy.
“Christina, why don’t you tell our audience what it feels like to be spanked like a naughty
little girl?”
“Robin, let me up, you pig! OW! STOP THAT! You are going too far!”
“Now that’s curious, folks. Here our little Christina, oh, that’s my name for her from now
on. She’s proved to be such a little brat over and over again, that I will call her by her
formal name whenever she misbehaves. So, she thinks I’m going too far. But I haven’t
even begun. She has disregarded my presence here. She is inconsiderate, always late,
annoyingly obstinate, and I’ve wanted to do this since the first day we went on the air!”
“Ouch! Stop this now! Don’t listen to him, people. He’s a beast and a brute! OW! You
can’t do this to me!”
“Oh yes I can, bad girl. You are always riding me about being too boring and conservative.
I think today is my conversion to your style. Let’s call it: “go for the jugular, shall we?”

“Robinnn, please, this is really hurting me!” Robin spanked her harder. “Ouch! Ouch!
OHHH!!!”
“I think we would appreciate listener response to our new morning spanking segment.
Come on, call in with your opinion. Should Christina get spanked, or should she be
allowed to behave with little concern for others?! Wow! Look at those phone lines light up!
Meanwhile, I think our little miss needs to have her pants taken down, and get the
spanking on her naughty bare bottom!”

43
 Tom and his assistants were manning the phones. Boston was eagerly responding to this
unprecedented event.
“No, you can’t take my panties down!” Screamed Chrissy. “Don’t you dare! I demand
that you stop the show now! Turn off those mikes! Tom, where the hell are you?! Get him
off of me!”
Robin had pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees. Tom was actually enjoying
the spectacle. And from the chat-lines, most of the males in the audience were enjoying it
immensely. The women were somewhat divided about Chrissy’s spanking. Half were
indignant that a grown woman should be treated this way; but a significant number of
females seemed to think that if Chrissy had really ridden Robin so hard, then she was
getting what she deserved! And some clearly wished that Robin would be available to
spank them when they were naughty! Tom could see the newspapers and local anchors
having a field day with this. He couldn’t have planned a better ratings coup.
“Folks, on that color commentary: Christina’s bottom is now a very nice fire-engine red.
She has the most luscious, spankable backside you could ever hope to have across your
laps, guys.”
Chrissy was panting and trying to sniffle back the tears. She was mortified! How could
he do this on the air!
“Robin, I’m asking you to stop spanking me! Come on, Boston, tell him that this is a
cave man tactic, and stupid as hell! Ow! Ow, Aw, noooo...you’re killing me!”
“I’m not killing her, folks. As you can hear from her cries, she is very much alive. But,
what I don’t hear is any apology, or any promises to be good. Christina, I’m going to keep
this spanking going until you can convince me that you are sincerely sorry for all the
pranks you’ve pulled on me. And that in the future you’ll think twice before attempting any
more thoughtless, humiliating jokes. Is that clear?” He punctuated that sentence with 10
hard spanks, landing in the very center of her scarlet bottom.
“YIIIIKES, YOU BASTARD! Just wait till I get up!”
“Gee, that doesn’t sound like you will be getting up anytime soon. We have two and a
half hours left on our show. Believe me, darlin’, I will keep this up for as long as I have to.
I’m sure our advertisers will be understanding, and know that your spanking is all for a
worthy cause.” Robin rubbed Chrissy’s bottom briefly. She was wriggling her delicious
derriere, and moaning in pain. But, Robin knew that she was embarrassed more than
anything. He hadn’t smacked her very hard. When he got her home later, he would give
her a more thorough paddling, maybe even use his hairbrush on her if she continued her
defiance.
The phones continued to light up. Tom got Robin’s attention and gave him the “V” for
Victory sign. If they could make this a regular feature, Chrissy gets spanked by listener
demand, or spared from punishment by her faithful followers. Thumbs up, a spanking.
Thumbs down, reprieve. Audience participation could have a whole new meaning!
Robin steadily smacked his kicking co-host. However, Chrissy was ready to concede.
She knew that Robin held the upper hand, and if she didn’t apologize, he would spank her
till the show was over! Worst of all, she didn’t blame him, much. She was sure that the
whipped cream bit had pushed him over the edge. She had wanted to get a reaction out of
him for so long. Was her behavior the frustrations of a spoiled, sexually repressed child?
Chrissy knew that she had taunted him beyond reasonable “fun”. Besides, now she knew
that he wasn’t a man to trifle with. Her aching butt was testament to that!
“Okay Robin, I give! I’m sorry for all the mean things I’ve done to you. I thought I was being
funny; I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I apologize!” Robin heard the sincerity in her tearful
voice. Yes! He felt triumph in the air! He gave her three more loud smacks and stopped.
“Christina, do you swear to behave and respect others’ opinions?” He started to soothe
and rub her warm rump.
“Yes, Robin, I’ll respect others’ opinions.” She laid over his lap answering the litany of
questions like a little girl in Catechism class. Robin slowly teased Chrissy’s backside,
pinching, patting, and tickling her into final submission.
“Christina, do you agree to be spanked in the future whenever it is warranted? Your
audience sure seems to think you should be! What, no comment, Happy Camper?” He
smacked her again.
44
 “Ouch! Okay, yes. Robin, I uh, agree to be spanked if I need it. I’m sorry for being a
brat.”
“So, if you get out of line on the air again, you know I will give you another public
spanking, right?”
“Yes Robin, I know it.”
“All right, your spanking is over, for now. Folks, I reserve the right to finish her first
spanking in the privacy of my home later.” Robin pulled Chrissy up and sat her on his lap.
“Chrissy, do you agree to come over to my place, and get the rest of your spanking?” He
was stroking her bare bottom with light, feathery caresses. Chrissy leaned back into him.
“Yes, I agree to receive my final spanking later at your apartment. And Boston, I promise
to even tell you the details of my private punishment on the show tomorrow. Talk about
firsthand testimonials!” She squirmed contentedly on Robin’s lap, as he kept her bottom
humming with his insistent caresses.
“Well folks, that’s my little surprise for today. We appreciate your response. Please
continue to let us know your thoughts on our progress. Now, on with the regular portion of
our show. Chrissy, are you ready to face your audience like a true professional?”
Chrissy stuck out her tongue at Robin, but smiled winningly at him. “You bet, Boy
Wonder! I’m very ready to get on to business. Watch out, Boston. Chrissy is back!!!”
The Blushing End

Black, White & RED All Over!!

By Jack Bullard
“You must be Cherie,” Janice Wells said with an air of formality. “Please step into
my office and take a seat.”
Cherie Cook did as she was asked, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Less
45
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Hindu Rags

The Hindu songs presided over by special gods were called rags,
but of course, the name has no relationship whatever to our ragtime.
It seems that religious feeling has dominated everything in the
Orient; for this reason every idea connected with music has a
corresponding idea in Hindu mythology. The rags were all named
after the gods who brought music down from heaven to comfort
man. The character of each god or goddess was supposed to be
reflected in the rag, and it was not the result of scientific study as
were, for instance, the scales of the Chinese. Our knowledge of the
rag has come down to us from what Sanskrit writers on Indian music
have said, and what is practised today by the modern Hindu. No
doubt Arabia and Persia once had a music system very much like this
one of the Hindus.
Rags, ragas, or raginis were neither airs nor modes in our sense
of the words, but something like the modes of the Arab songs, they
were melodic forms, or themes, on which musicians either
improvised or composed new songs, by using them in rhythms of
endless variety.
There were many many rags, and they were under the guidance of
the gods of the rainy season, the cold season, the mild, the hot, etc.,
and could only be sung during their special seasons. It was thought
that these songs sung at the wrong time would bring down calamity.
Again, as with the American Indian (Chapter II), we find tribes who
are most careful to sing certain music at certain times.
It is told that a Hindu nobleman, long ago, tried to sing a night
song in the daytime and darkness covered all things within the sound
of his voice!
As important as was the song from the earliest time, instrumental
music held almost an equal place.
 Orchestra

The Hindu orchestra is sometimes large and sometimes small. Its

dances are lively and vigorous, and very seldom slow and romantic.
Nevertheless they have many kinds of songs, some lively and some
not, such as: songs in honor of Krishna (one of their principal gods),
official odes, war hymns, love songs, evening songs, wedding songs,
cradle and patriotic songs. In some, the Arab seems to have
influenced the Hindu music, because they have the lively rhythm and
the variety of the Arab music, yet it is difficult to know which one
influenced the other. The Arab music has the variety and luxurious
soft beauty in popular dances equal to anything our modern
musicians or poets have composed.
The playing of instruments, accompanying songs with Sanskrit
texts, was supposed to give energy, develop heroism, make a peaceful
heart, and drive away harm and impurity.
The members of the different castes or sects had and still have
meetings held sometimes in private houses and sometimes in the
temples, when they sang religious hymns. Among the higher classes,
they went to the expense of having good musicians and of giving
artistic performances, but among the common people, their idea was
that the greater the noise the more they showed their devotion, so
they sang, beat drums and blew whistles without any regard for time
or melody, and you can imagine the effect was pandemonium.
 Notation

It is impossible to write the Hindu music in European notation,

because instead of dividing the scale into semi-tones or half-steps,
they use quarter tones.
Margaret Glyn, in her book, Evolution of Musical Form, writes:
“In the East notation is in an elementary condition, the staff being
unknown. The Hindus, Chinese, and Abyssinians have ancient note-
signs, consisting of a kind of letter to which some indication of time
is added, but in this respect the Chinese system is wanting, having
practically no time-notation. Probably note-signs existed in Persia
and Arabia, but these do not appear to have survived. The modern
Arabic notation is but three hundred years old, and is said to have
been invented by one Demetrius de Cantemir who adapted the letters
of the Turkish alphabet for the purpose. This has eighteen tones to
the octave (we have twelve), and is used in Turkey and other
countries of the near East.”
The Hindus seem to like both triple (3 beats) and duple (2 or 4
beats) rhythm. The scheme changes according to the poetry of the
song, and the pitch and the length of tones are shown by Sanskrit
characters and special signs or words.
 Instruments

The Hindus have spent much time in studying music and the
instruments of which they have many kinds. There are the strings,
there are skins sounded by beating, instruments struck together in
pairs, and those that are blown. They like the strings best. The
characteristic instrument is the vina, usually of wood or bamboo
strengthened by one to three gourds as sounding boards, and having
five or seven wire strings played something like the zither, but
sometimes with a bow. (Figure 16.) There are many varieties of the
sitar, an instrument like a lute, and many viols of which the sarinda
sarunja is typical and is played with a bow. (Figure 17.)
Among the percussion instruments are tambourines, castanets and
cymbals; they had wind instruments such as flutes (seldom
transverse or blown in from the side, and often played by blowing on
them through the nostrils), trumpets, horns, bagpipes and oboes.
Certain instruments were used only by the priests, others by beggars,
and others by dancing girls. Imagine how weird a story could be told
in music if a modern symphony orchestra played a piece of music
telling of life among the Hindus. Maybe some of the readers of this
book will get an idea for a Hindu tone poem, who knows?
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of
Art, New York City.

Hindu Instruments.

Fig. 15.—Tabla—
drum.

Fig. 16.—Kinnari—
Vina, a stringed
instrument.
 Fig. 17.

Sitar (Strings) Trumpet.

Fig. 18.

Hindu Instruments.
Childhood of Music
 CHAPTER VII
What Church Music Imported from Greece

During the centuries when the Eastern nations were powerful the
European continent was inhabited by primitive men, who had
gradually formed tribes. They had rude songs, dances, and crude
instruments. They used their music in religious ceremonies, to
celebrate war victories and successful hunting expeditions, to sing to
their sweethearts, and to accompany their work in the fields and
homes, much as the American Indian did. Many manners and
customs of the Anglo-Saxon (English), Teutonic (German), Norse
(Danish, Swedish and Norwegian), Celtic (Irish) and Gallic (French)
races may be traced back to these barbaric days, and even the
beginning of national schools of music may be found.
Although a thousand years passed between the Greek musical era
and the “Golden Age” of Christian Church music, much that
happened in that time is hidden in darkness. The nations and tribes
were fighting for existence and were developing into the nations
which we know today.
Islam or the Mohammedan religion, and not Christianity, was the
great influence.
Julius Cæsar (100–44 B.C.), the great Roman General, conquered
Gallia (France), then invaded the land of the Teutons (Germany) and
even reached England. In parts of northern Europe, one still sees the
remains of great roadways, aqueducts or water works, and bridges,
that the Romans built during their invasions.
In the Cluny Museum in Paris is a great hall built as a bath by the
Romans. In Bath, England, the city was named for the ancient
Roman baths still existing, and you can see the pipe lines which
carried the water.
 Dark Ages

The world at that time was not a happy place in which to live.
There was constant warfare between the once powerful Roman
Empire and these barbaric tribes. The poorest people were oppressed
and many were slaves, bought and sold by the rich land owners and
army leaders.
Into such a world was the child, Jesus, born—a world with little
love for humanity, little unselfishness, little sympathy for the down-
trodden and unhappy, few kind words for the poor or the sick, little
justice and less mercy. No wonder that His teachings brought new
life and gave hope to the people!
For several centuries following the birth of Christ, the world went
through a period called the Dark Ages. Rome, the city of glorious
victories and brilliant culture became the prey of the barbaric tribes
—Huns, Goths, Visigoths, Vandals, Franks, Saxons, and Slavs,—until
it seemed that civilization would be wiped out and people would
become primitive again.
Music was saved during the Dark Ages through a small band of
faithful followers of Jesus Christ, who founded a church in His name.
That their music should have been made up of existing tunes and
words is very natural. Jesus, himself, brought up in the religion of
the Hebrews, often sang the Psalms of David. The beautiful
traditional music of the Jewish synagogues found its way into the
services of the early Christian Church, because many of the believers
were Hebrews. Soon the Hebrew Bible texts were translated into
Latin—the everyday language of the Romans, and as most of these
early Christians lived in Rome, they followed the rules of music the
Romans learned from the Greeks. So, our Church music was
influenced both by the Hebrews and Greeks.
For about three hundred years the early Christians had to hold
their services in secret, as they were punished even by death when
caught, for not worshipping Jupiter and the Roman gods. They were
not rich and influential, but just humble folk to whom the teachings
of Jesus came as a joyous comfort. They had no beautiful palaces
where they could hold services, and at the same time hide from the
Roman centurions, so they worshipped in dark and secret places and
could not have much music as it would have attracted the attention
of their enemies. The early Christians shunned music, too, because it
had been used for the wild dances and festivals of their pagan
oppressors. As they were poor and uneducated, they had had little
training and lacked money to buy instruments, so all in all music had
a hard time to keep alive.
From what we can gather, they chanted their Psalms much as did
the Hebrews and had responses which sounded like soft and
monotonous droning.
As time went on emperors like Constantine, began to take away the
death penalty from those believing in Christ and gradually as the
Romans saw the beauty of His teachings they became Christians in
increasing numbers. Many of these Romans came from the upper
classes, and as Greek was the language of culture they had had a
thorough Greek education and owned many instruments, so they
brought their Greek musical inheritance to the growing band.
Thus, the chants composed in Rome for the kithara were the direct
ancestors of our Christian hymns. These early hymns were also a
bridge between the single melody line of the Orient and Greece and
Rome, and the many melody lines, called polyphonic music, of
Europe.
In 325 A.D., Emperor Constantine made Christianity the national
religion of Rome. He also founded the Christian Church in
Byzantium, later called Constantinople, and all through the Dark
Ages, in many parts of Europe, the cathedrals and church schools
were the only gleam of learning in a time of darkness and struggle.
After the Roman Empire reached its greatest height, in the 2nd
century, it gradually grew weaker and during the 4th and 5th
centuries, the Goths, Vandals and Huns drove the government from
Rome to Constantinople. In the 7th century Mohammedanism rose
and swept over Syria, Egypt and North Africa, and reached Spain in
the 8th century.
 Answering Music

It is related that St. Ignatius (49–107 A.D.) one of the early

Christian fathers, had a vision in which he heard the Heavenly choirs
praising the Holy Trinity, in alternating chants, and he was so
impressed by it, that he introduced into the Church the idea of two
choirs of singers answering each other.
In singing the Psalms of David, the Hebrews used this idea of
antiphonal music. (Anti—against, phonal—sounding: antiphonal—
sounding against each other.) We see it too in the Greek choruses, in
the Roman kitharoedic chants (chants accompanied by the kithara),
and now in the early Christian hymns. From this antiphonal music to
the later polyphony (poly—many, phony—sounds: many voices or
parts) is a natural step. Here again is an instance of the influence of
one nation on another.
 The Patron Saint of Music

Among the martyrs to the cause of the Christian faith, was St.
Cecilia, a member of a noble Roman family, who was put to death for
becoming a Christian about 177 A.D. She is believed to be buried in
the Roman catacombs (underground burial chambers) and is the
patron saint of music, and she is supposed to have invented the
organ.
It was St. Ambrose (333–397 A.D.) who worked out the first system
for church music and put it on a foundation that lasted for two
hundred years.
 Greek Modes as Models

St. Ambrose built scales modeled on the old Greek modes and they
were given Greek names, but somehow the names became mixed so
that the mode called by Ambrose, Dorian (from D to D on the white
keys of the piano) was the Greek Phrygian; and the Phrygian (E to E)
of Ambrose was called Dorian by the Greeks; F to F is the Lydian
mode; G to G, the Mixolydian. These were the four authentic
Ecclesiastical or Church Modes.
St. Ambrose felt it his duty to make over the church music because
popular street songs had crept in with the Hebrew Psalms and Greek
and Roman chants! It was much the same effect as if you entered a
church and heard the organ and choir performing “Yes, We Have No
Bananas.” This is a funny comparison because it is said that a part of
“Yes, We Have No Bananas” is stolen from Handel’s great
“Hallelujah” Chorus from the oratorio The Messiah.
About this time, schools were formed to train singers in these new
hymns and church services, and a way to write down the music
composed by St. Ambrose and his followers was needed. The Greek
letters had been used in Rome, but now a new system called neumes
appeared; this word comes from the Greek and means “breath” and
the neumes simply marked where one should breathe in chanting the
hymns. There were eight signs with Latin names which gave full
directions when to raise and lower the voice.
The system of Neumes notation looks like our present day
shorthand and was a help, though, should we use it now we would
think it anything but a help.
While the Neumes writing showed how to mark the time, it had a
serious shortcoming, because it did not outline the melody exactly. It
indicated whether the melody rose or fell, but just how much was a
question not definitely shown. An unfamiliar chant could not be sung
until the notation had been worked out. It took five years for a choir
singer to be able to sing the music!
When the singers sang solos, they ornamented the songs and sang
anything they pleased! This made variety but it must also have
caused much confusion! The people may have learned this
ornamental singing of the Arab, from The Gloss. (Page 59.)
The next step was the Gregorian chant which even today is sung in
the Roman Catholic Churches.
To the four authentic scales of St. Ambrose, St. Gregory who was
Pope from 590 to 604 added four more called plagal. He did not
invent these scales but based them on the old Greek and Ambrosian
modes. To each authentic scale, he added a plagal scale starting four
tones below it, and to the name of the authentic mode is added the
prefix hypo.
Each authentic mode and its hypo are related.
Here is a table of these related modes, and their names:
After a painting by
Garofalo, National
Gallery at Rome.

Saint Cecilia—Patron Saint of Music.

(Holding a portative organ.)
After a painting by
Maxence, in Paris.

Book of Peace.
 Authentic Scales or Modes Plagal Scales or Modes
(St. Ambrose’s Scales) (St. Gregory’s Scales)

I. Dorian: II. Hypo-Dorian:

d ef͡ g a bc͡ d a bc͡ d ef͡ g a
III. Phrygian: IV. Hypo-Phrygian:
ef͡ g a bc͡ d e bc͡ d ef͡ g a b
V. Lydian: VI. Hypo-Lydian:
f g a bc͡ d ef͡ c d ef͡ g a bc͡
VII. Mixo-Lydian: VIII. Hypo-Mixo-Lydian:
g a bc͡ d ef͡ g d ef͡ g a bc͡ d

We have marked the half-steps bc͡ and ef͡ , and in every mode they
fall on different degrees of the scale. This shifting of the half-steps
tells us the name of the mode.
In order to try to give you a definite idea of how the church modes
worked, we have written the familiar national hymn America in each
mode (see page 74). Play them, and you will see how one differs from
the other.
Katherine Ruth Heyman has used a similar idea in her little book
The Relation of Ultramodern to Archaic Music in explaining Greek
Modes.
It took many years to establish this music and it was not until the
time of Charlemagne (742–814) that it became a real system called
Plain Chant or Plain-song (from the Latin, cantus planus).
Pope Gregory founded the Schola Cantorum, school of singers, at
Rome, and with these trained people he tried to establish for all
Christian churches, a way to sing systematically and well. They
studied nine years, and everything had to be memorized, for only the
leader had a song book. Books were written by hand and were hard
to get. The teacher had a monochord, the instrument invented by
Pythagoras, to give the pitch, for all the singing was done without
accompaniment. The singing must have improved greatly after
Gregory became Pope, for before his reform, music had become a
stunt with no solemnity, and people in the churches waved
handkerchiefs if the stunt pleased them!
America