Oh Jeanie, you get naughtier! I am so pleased!!

Thank you for this!

3rd S.E. submission
11/18/21

To see the rest, look up to the menu, and click on ‘Collaborators and Links.’

​Now for a flight of fantasy, based upon a few of Mr. Jones’ evocative photos and erotic models.

​“Dig, if you will, the picture…” is how Prince started his masterpiece, “When Doves Cry.”

​Please dig through the incredible archive of Mr. Jones photography with me. Try, as I will, to keep your hand out of the cookie jar, as image after image invades your consciousness and tickles your libido. Find the sets that feature “the rocking horse.” It’s just a low stool with curved rockers on its legs, and a saddle for a seat. Sweet Kate rides the piece of furniture. She knows how. Being so low to the floor, she places her fragrant and moist pudendum on the leather saddle, thereby sticking her glorious ass out behind. There is her tight, inviting rosebud of an anus on full display, as it often is in these pictures. If I were magically transported into this photo, I’d reward the obedient girl by putting my face in Kate’s splayed buttocks’ crevice, kissing and licking and penetrating her perfect petalled rosebud. She furtively rubs her sex across the smooth saddle, polishing the brown leather with her juices, as I drive her mad with lust with my tongue. She’s demonstrated what to do and how to do it by riding hard and spending her secretions copiously.

Not Cherry. Now find the photos of her. This lass is as willfully headstrong as she is imperiously attractive. She needs to be taught. And the apparatus needs to be modified to do so. I remember an antique rocking horse that was passed down through the generations of my family, renowned for its verisimilitude with real horse hair for a mane and tail, flat marble eyes, and a leather bridle and English saddle. It was mounted on a trundle, advanced for its time, with such a smooth gliding action. Only one addition is necessary, a large phallus is mounted securely at a forty-five degree angle toward the steed’s neck through the pommel-less saddle.

“Mount up!” I command of Cherry, dressed in my skin-tight riding jodhpurs and boots and nothing else. Poor Cherry wears nothing at all except an apprehensive expression on her pretty face, as I lightly smack her near buttock with the slapper-end of the riding crop I hold. Our brown hair is coiffed identically in a head-hugging braid, so as to be out of the way. She doesn’t know it, but the mousey brown curls that adorn our pussies are coiffed identically, too, with a sheen of arousal. Get a mental picture of that to hold in your fertile mind.

Obedient for the moment, the young equestrienne throws her long leg over the horse, and gingerly settles into the saddle by impaling her wet vagina onto that thick phallus. A soft, self-satisfied, “Oh!” escapes her cupid’s bow of a mouth. The dildo is at just the right angle to make Cherry offer her round flanks out, just as Kate so expertly modeled on her horse. For the first time, I catch a glimpse of Cherry’s charms. Her rosebud is even pinker and tighter a bud than lascivious Kate’s, perhaps because the younger model has experienced less traffic there.

“Now, post at the trot,” I instruct, with a smart lash from the crop to urge the girl on, and she begins riding, the horse smoothly gliding forward and back, as the dildo thrusts in and out. Cherry synchronizes in perfect harmony with the apparatus, as a thin red welt blossoms across the expanse of her flexing buttocks. The raised welt bisects her deep cleft at an exact right angle and contrasts markedly with the fair complexion of the twin orbs. Cherry doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to have a full compliment of stripes across her magnificent backside before her riding lesson is through. The girl rises up from the saddle, as does the intruding phallus, as her rocking horse surges ahead. Then she squats down, exposing all her considerable feminine charms, as her buttocks and thighs kiss the saddle softly as the horse regressed backward. It is at that apex stage, with Cherry’s arse stuck out invitingly, that I catch her with a second lash with the command, “Now break into a canter. Faster now!”

Her musculature pumps, her baby-fat flesh ripples, she grits her teeth and rides the well-hung horse hard, but not fast enough to please me. I give her a third stripe to urge her on. Her sexual saddle spasms in climax, the leather saddle is besmeared with the girl’s juices, her bottom cheeks contort under the whipping, and her facial cheeks do, too. Cherry pushes on through the orgasm, but not fast enough to please me.

“Gallop ahead, girl!” I urge vocally as I whip her haunches hard. Every time Cherry’s bottom extends backward in its rhythm, I give her another crack with the crop. The blows are landing in rapid succession. This jockey knows nothing of “sitting chilly” on her mount; she is sweating, her buttocks fiery red and just as hot to the touch. Both saddles, hers and the horse’s, glisten with jism.

“Full out, now, Cherry, ride it hard!” I fairly scream. The rider gives her supreme effort, but I keep up a steady beat across her hind quarters with the whip. I’m flogging her now, a delicious ‘crack” splits the air as the braided leather crop bites into Cherry’s flesh time after time, punctuated by the girl’s whimpers and howls.

It’s all too much. I implode with a massive orgasm without touching my sex in the least, crumpling to the floor. Cherry climaxes with a gush, bathing herself and horse with her cream, and slowly brings the pretend-horse down through the gaits to a halt. We are both panting, winded, physically exhausted and sexually spent. Cherry collapses against the rocking horse’s neck, I open myself from my place on the hardwood floor. Our eyes lock onto one another’s. I unbutton and unzip my drenched breeches and peel them down until my still-pulsating sex is revealed.

“Look at what you’ve done to me,” I whisper, my tone changed now to one of appreciation and admiration. Cherry dismounts, her pudendum is just as shiny-slick as mine. She straddles my head with her lower half on elbows and knees, my pussy is steaming and throbbing just below her pretty face. We simultaneously touch smiling facial lips to smiling labial lips. Here, I’m not the teacher. We are both inexperienced at licking vagina, but passion and compassion motivate us both to experiment. We each bring the other to another, milder but more affirming orgasm, our tongues in the other’s tail, our arms wrapped around the other. We collapse in a heap of female flesh and sated desire and our comingled sweat, tears, and jism. I play with her buttocks with tender fingertips, caressing and pinching and parting. “Oh! In the heat of the moment, I whipped you so hard!” I utter. “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Cherry smiles, “my bottom feels gloriously radiant, my whole body new and alive!”

I want to kiss this incredible vixen, but my lips are no where near her mouth, so I kiss her on the ass crack. She giggles, so I cover her tushy with kisses, as I just had with lashes. I part her and kiss my way into her crevice. It’s humid and sweet-smelling and dark. I go spelunking. Cherry sighs loudly. I french kiss her rosebud, then tickle her there, so as to gain admittance.

“Ever been fucked here?” I ask.

“Never by a woman…” she replies, and I know what the next adventure will be. I’m content to play, using fingers and tongue, to make Cherry wriggle and moan, but she’s thinking ahead and perplexed. “HOW do you think we could share anal sex..? I don’t think I can mount that rocking horse backwards… We lack dicks!”

“I have a strap-on,” I answer. “I bought it with the expressed purpose of deflowering sweet maidens.”

“Oh!” Cherry brightens, her eyes twinkling, as if scales were falling from them.

“It’s perfect. It has a set of inter-changeable phalluses to meet every taste, and no stupid macho attitude driving it,” I add, and we both laugh.

“You sound like a woman on the rebound,” Cherry diagnoses accurately.
I think for a minute what to say. Suddenly tears fill my eyes. “I was so happy to bend my will to his, to bare my butt and take his beatings… But he decided to break my heart, and give my self-confidence the beating…”
Cherry spins around so that we are facing the same direction, and she can console me looking me full in the eyes. “We’ve all been there…” and kisses me.

“What’re we talking about men for? We don’t need the dicks! I’ve got a strap-on!” I proclaim. And we laugh and the tension has passed. “Sometime, not today, I just wore out your tush with the crop… but sometime, I’d like to be the woman who first takes you up the ass… You do switch, don’t you?”
“With you I’d like to,” she answers.

“Good! Then you can punish me for behaving so nasty with as hard a whipping as you’d like to give me… with whatever implement you choose…”

And we kissed to seal the deal, a sweet kiss. But I could tell that neither of us was in the moment any longer. We were both imagining our next tryst.

You will find more of Robyn’s sexy words here, with three more contributors…

…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=25765

Birching and orgasms
by Robyn Jones

As you may already have guessed from my first post, I love just love everything to do with Victorian spanking erotica…from the underwear (open-crotch drawers and corsets), birch rods, erotic spanking novels (e.g. Frank & I, The Yellow Room etc…), vintage spanking photographs and vintage spanking artwork. This is something I have in common with Asa who has allowed me the privilege of helping to edit his lengthy story about a Victorian flagellation brothel/theatre – The Inveigle.

I always find I write better using a few images to stimulate my brain and various other parts of my anatomy! For my post today, I have chosen a deliciously erotic picture by the C19 French artist Louis Malteste.

As you can see it shows a young lady lying astride a punishment horse. Her wrists and legs have been securely strapped to the legs of the horse. Her dress has been thrown up over her back and her drawers have been parted to expose her naked bottom. Her shapely rump is thrust out prominently just beyond the end of the horse as she anxiously looks over her shoulder awaiting her punishment. Two slender birch rods lie on the floor under the horse, one slightly longer than the other.

We have no further clues as to the circumstances of her forthcoming birching. Who will be administering the birching…her headmistress? How many strokes will she receive? The presence of two birch rods would suggest at least two dozen strokes. Is she to be birched in the privacy of the headmistress’ study or on the school stage in front of her fellow pupils? Who knows?! Whatever, the birching is sure to be a rather painful experience for the young madam. No doubt she will squeal and howl as the rod is whipped repeatedly across her buttocks. Her cheeks will now doubt wriggle and squirm, albeit her movements constrained by the straps around her wrists and legs. Her cheeks and thighs will steadily redden and become criss-crossed by fine red welts, a sight that would put the fear of God into the hearts of any of the girl’s fellow pupils.

I always prefer to read and write spanking stories which ultimately bring not only sexual pleasure to the spanker, but also to the person being spanked. For me, spanking is a highly erotic act, whether I am the one administering the spanking or the one receiving it. A spanking that doesn’t end in at least one orgasm is like eating a cream tea without any jam or cream!

Returning to Malteste’s picture, one other question which it raises for me is ‘will the young lady ultimately gain any pleasure from her birching?’ Whilst the birch will undoubtedly sting her buttocks, will it gradually stimulate her pussy enough to generate an orgasm?

According to observations of English school corporal punishment by the C17 French writer Voltaire:
“It is shameful and indecent that the birch is used upon the naked buttocks of children with such severity. The nerves between the sphincter and the pubis become inflamed, and emissions are often caused, and this frequently happens to young girls”.

The term ‘emissions’ used by Voltaire is believed to be a euphemism for orgasm, rather than suggesting that a young girl wet herself.

The writer of the Beauty & the Birch blogspot commented on Voltaire’s observations as follows:

‘When girls were birched, especially in reformatory and orphanage institutions of the period, it was normal for the girls to be strapped to a flogging, or birching “horse”. This piece of furniture was basically like a sawhorse or trestle, and consisted of a narrow beam at the top, supported on four legs, which splayed out. A girl to be punished would lie with her belly on the narrow top beam, while her wrists and ankles were secured to each of the horse’s four splayed legs. In this uncompromising position, her naked buttocks would be flogged with a bundle of brine soaked birch twigs, until they were a red, raw, mass of bloodied flesh. However, once strapped to the flogging horse in this position, the victim’s pubic area would invariably be resting on, and pressing against, the narrow beam which formed the top of the horse. Any movement of the girl’s pelvis during the flogging, would inevitably result in the clitoral area rubbing against the top beam of the horse. During the birching, the victim would invariably be clenching, and jerking in her pelvic region as the birching proceeded, which could be four or five dozen strokes. The effect of the clitoral region rubbing and grinding against the top of the horse, as the girl clenched and writhed, combined with the rush of blood to the buttocks, and neighbouring genitals, caused by the birching, could easily trigger an involuntary orgasm in the flogged girl, and often did.

There was no outrage at that time because female sexuality, let alone the female orgasm, officially did not exist at all, and certainly not in young girls, which the inmates of such institutions would have been.

I am not a hardened sadist who would enjoy flogging a lady’s buttocks ‘until they were a red, raw, mass of bloodied flesh’, but I’m sure a slightly less brutal birching could nevertheless induce a ‘happy ending’ for the recipient. It isn’t something I have yet been able to try out for myself, but I’ll keep it in mind if ever a suitable opportunity arises! I suppose a cane would be equally efficacious in inducing an orgasm whilst strapped astride a horse, but the birch is more decadent and in keeping with the Victorian period.

I’ll finish with a lovely little watercolour picture which I found on the web, clearly based on Malteste’s original image. The young lady’s drawers have been totally removed and a stern woman brandishing a birch rod has been added. The birching is clearly well underway!

I am reminded of ‘Neddy’ a little rocking horse that Asa features in his various photostories. Perhaps one day he will let me learn to ride Neddy under the strict instruction of Charlotte’s or Kate’s riding crop? All his models seem to love Neddy. He clearly ‘hits the right spot’!

Robyn

To see the rest, click here…

…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=20133

Continued…

Yet another letter home

Once again a nervous Kate travelled home from school on the bus, already squirming on the bouncy seat with a sore bottom from Mr. Jones after being caught with the school bell inside her pussy! Passengers knew her reputation. News travelled fast in a small village and the teasing by other girls gave the game away…

”You got a spanking, you got a spanking!’

“What will Mummy do when you get home and pass her the naughty note Kate?”

‘‘What did you get caught doing with the bell Kate?”

“Is it true that your dad keeps a cane above the lounge door Katie?”

‘‘Guess who won’t be sitting down for breakfast and sleeping on their tummy everyone!”

Older passengers smirked and chattered, looking knowingly at her. It was a very embarrassing journey and, once she had alighted, as the bus drove away, she dare not look back at the windows. She knew that there would be smirks, frowns, giggles and pointing. She walked home to the inevitable result, at a very slow rate.

She arrived home and passed the note over…

“Good Lord Kate! You did what with the school bell?!? Get on that settee, take your knickers right off right now, and push your bare bottom out young lady!” said her Mummy. ”I am going to give you another spanking, and heaven knows what Daddy will do when he gets home from work!”

Her bare bottom was soon bright red again…

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK….

“OWWWWW, OOOO, OWWWWW, OOOOH, OUCH, YIKES, OWWW, OOOOOH, EEEEOWWWWW, OWWWWWW, OOOOOOOO, YEOOOW!”

After the spanking, she was told to wait until her father came home. It was around ten minutes later when she heard the gate, and a raised angry voice in the kitchen shout,

“WHAAAAAAT? I am going for my cane!”

Oh dear!

Needless to say, Kate spent the night on her tummy with an extremely sore bottom.

This is an update to my ‘Contributors Page’, there are four there. This is one of K.V.W.Yolendine’s.

Click here…

…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=25765

Just a short one, but as always, lovely…

Pa has a midlife crisis
Pa woke up one morning and decided he needed some excitement in his life.The thing he’d always wanted was a Harley motorbike.
: but Pa was scared and worried about falling off, so all he went for was a red moped!
: Now Ma took one look at the new machine and laughed derisively “your’e hardly Mr Easy Rider my dear…for a start your bottom is too big!”
: “ Pot calling the kettle black – we’ll see about that ” Pa roared and in a trice had Ma bent over moped saddle, broad bare acre in the air turning her cheeks the colour of the machine..
:But then Pa decided to listen and do something about the size of his rear…as his love for his new machine grew deeper by the day…
: and Ma could see he loved it so and she came to prize it too as both a means of removing care with wind in the hair at speed and a wonderful machine for spanking bares across padded seats both give and receive!

To see more of my contributor’s work, click here…

…https://www.spanking-emporium.co.uk/spanking-emporium/?p=25765

A cozy evening in front of the fire with some birch rods!

by Robyn Jones

Asa has recently asked me to write something of my own to post on his blog, something that might reveal a little more about my own spanko lifestyle! He has a very charismatic personality and he knows exactly how to get women to drop their inhibitions (and their knickers) and is able to persuade his lovely models to perform all sorts of naughty things, which they happily perform in front of his lens. Although I am not prepared to appear in front of his camera, I have agreed to write a short story revealing something of myself.

As some of you may be aware from what Asa wrote about me on his blog a while ago, I am a lesbian and have a preference for being a domme when it comes to spanking in a sexual relationship. However, I do occasionally ‘indulge’ my submissive side when I meet the right person. I believe that it is important for any domme to submit herself to a good spanking from time to time just to remind herself what it feels like to be on the receiving end! I shall briefly relate to you one such session I had with one of my lady friends a few years ago. I shall call her Eve, although that is not her real name.

Eve is in her late 20s. She has an attractive figure and a bottom to die for. Think of Asa’s naughty maid Kate’s beautiful bottom and you get the idea! Unlike me, Eve is a switch who enjoys being spanked as much as spanking someone else. Some months ago I had asked her to stay with me for the weekend so that we could enjoy a leisurely de-stress after a long week at our respective workplaces.

I am fortunate to live in a little detached cottage on the edge of a small village, looking across some pasture land to some woodland and hills. It is very quiet and private, ideal for the sort of ‘games’ I like to play with my lady friends.

Eve and I have a passion for vintage underwear we buy off various sites on the internet. We had agreed that we would make our weekend a Victorian themed one. As a result, it wasn’t long after Eve’s arrival that we could be found wandering around the cottage in some appropriate underwear, a bit like Samantha and Charlotte in ‘The spanking adventures of upskirt Evans’! We both had put on some of those split open-crotch drawers, gartered stockings, and chemises. The freedom of being able to wander around my cottage so dressed was very liberating and erotic.

As we made dinner together, we occasionally kissed and fondled each other’s bottoms through the back slit of the drawers, but felt in no rush to indulge our passion for spanking. That could wait until later. After all, we had all weekend to do so!

After dinner we sat down together on my antique settee in front of my log burner with a glass of wine and chatted for quite some time. Finally, as our conversation subsided, Eve turned and gave me a long lingering kiss, before whispering “Shall we?”

Although I instinctively knew what she was asking, I pretended to be puzzled and replied, “Shall we what?!”

Eve nuzzled into me and said, “Spank each other, of course!”

I laughed and replied, “Why not. I’m game if you are!”

Eve smiled, her eyes gleaming with desire, “That’s good! Who is going to be the naughty girl first then?” she replied.

“You of course, young lady! You’re the one who suggested it!”

“OK. How do you want me?”

I stood up and told her to stand facing the corner next to the fire whilst I fetched something special I had prepared for our first evening together. She was intrigued, but did as I asked and stood in the corner, whilst I went out to the small hallway where I had hidden a bucket which contained a number of small birch rods soaking in water. I had spent a little while preparing these before Eve’s arrival using birch twigs from a small coppice just outside my garden. I had never used a birch before, but felt that they would be appropriate for our Victorian theme.

I carried the bucket into the sitting room and placed it next to Eve in the corner. She looked down and gasped in surprise when she saw what the bucket contained. “Oh! Birch rods! What a surprise, but most appropriate for our costumes! Have you ever been birched or birched anyone before, Robyn?”

“No, never, but I’ve always wanted to give them a try. I’ve heard that they give a unique and very stimulating sting!”

“Well we better try them out then. I’ve always wanted to see what a birching feels like, but do please start off gently won’t you,” Eve responded.

“Of course I will, Eve. Do tell me if it’s too much.”

“Thank you. I’ll bend over the arm of your settee if that suits you.”

“Yes, that would be fine. Make yourself as comfortable as possible.”

Whilst Eve draped herself over the settee arm, I took one of the rods from the bucket and swished the excess moisture from it, droplets landing on the woodburner and hissing noisily as they landed. I then walked behind Eve and parted her drawers to bare her bottom. It looked divine in the flickering firelight, so soft and round. The deep groove between her cheeks in shadow. It almost seemed a shame to spoil it’s pristine beauty by applying a birch to it, but we had agreed to try using a birch and it would be a pity to not use them having spent some time making them!

I started off gently birching Eve’s buttocks. It almost seemed to whisper as I repeatedly whisked it down …Swish! Thwick! …Swish! Thwick! …Swish! Thwick!

“How’s that, Eve?” I asked, after a short while.

“Mmmhh! Rather nice…it’s quite stingy, but not unbearably so and my bottom is tingling beautifully! Carry on, but don’t hit me any harder yet,” Eve replied, waggling her bottom at me.

I continued, rapidly whisking the birch up and down, which had Eve squirming and moaning. As her legs occasionally parted, I could see moisture glistening on her inner thighs. ‘Good she was clearly enjoying the birch and it was clearly arousing her!’ I thought.

After a while, her breathing became more laboured and she suddenly shouted out, “It’s time to bring me, Robyn. Please give me a dozen really hard strokes now. That should do the trick!”

“Are you sure, Eve? Your bottom is already looking rather red!”

“Yes, I’m really sure, Robyn. Go on, pretend I’m your naughty young maid and really thrash me with that rod!”

“OK, young lady, but don’t say you didn’t ask for it!”

So saying I grabbed a new birch from the bucket and brought it down hard across her buttocks…SWISH! THWACKKKK!”

Eve howled out loudly, “Yeowhhh! God that really stings….Oooohhh…but don’t stop!”

And so I layed on another and another stroke of similar intensity. How her bottom wriggled and writhed under the onslaught, as she yelped and howled loudly, until, just as the last stroke was delivered, she let out a long scream of ecstasy and came, her whole body shuddering with pleasure.

I threw the birch down and knelt down to inspect the damage, gently caressing her cheeks with my hand. Her bottom was ablaze, criss-crossed with fine red welts, but no sign of any broken skin.

“So Eve, how was that then?” I inquired, as she calmed down.

“Oh, Robyn, that was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It was SO deliciously stimulating! I can’t really describe it, but I loved it. Will you birch me again when I’ve recovered?”

“Of course I will, Eve, if that’s what you want, but in the meantime will you birch me now. Birching your bottom has made me very excited and aroused. I want to experience what you have just had! I think there are two more fresh birches left in the bucket.”

I won’t describe my own birching in detail. I’ll leave that to readers’ imaginations! Suffice it to say we quickly changed places and before long, Eve was briskly whipping my backside with a birch…. all the way to heaven!

Ever since that evening, I’ve been a frequent user and recipient of the birch, despite the mess it makes on my carpets!

I have added a drawing that I like, which fits my first blog post…