Robyn’s Erotic Words – 15

Another wonderful article from Robyn. To see the rest of her wonderfully varied and sexy musings, click on ‘Links and Contributors’, then scroll down to ‘Contributors’ and there you will find her.

‘It’s All in the Words’


Robyn Jones

Whilst looking at photographs or watching videos depicting spanking can be very arousing, I find that reading spanking stories can often prove to be even more so. The author of the ‘Spanking Theatre’ stories expresses this very well:

‘Reading a story is like witnessing a spanking through a keyhole. We eavesdrop as a miscreant is scolded, we catch glimpses of a forbidden scene, letting our imagination fill in what we can not see. We indulge in illicit imagineering.

Stories require the reader’s participation. In the gap between reading and understanding them, words magically condense into images, generating a new world coloured by the reader’s unique perspective. Stories inspire a one-off piece of theatre, conjured up and played out in the space between each reader’s ears. Even if a story is read by a billion other people, no-one else will ever imagine those same words in exactly the same way.

Stories have an ambiguity, a subtlety, a narrative that even the most explicit images of nakedness will never come close to capturing. How fitting that in reading a story about submission you must first submit your imagination to the story.’

(You can read his stories on the web if you Google him)

NOTE FROM ASA…I can vouch for him too, he has written some great stuff and has even commissioned me to illustrate some.

For many of us, the written word was often their first source of erotic arousal as far as spanking goes. Many people recounting the early development of their spanking fetish refer to looking up spanking-related words in a dictionary:

Spanking’: the act of hitting someone with the hand on the bottom as a punishment or for sexual pleasure

Within the English-speaking World, there is a lot of variation in the words used to describe the same thing as far as spanking goes. Some are more arousing than others. For instance, this can be illustrated by the contrast between English and American terminology in references to bottoms, usually the principal focus of any spanking story!

Americans seem to have a preference in describing this part of the anatomy as a person’s ‘butt’, ‘arse’, ‘buns’ or ‘fanny’. As an English person, I find that none of these words are particularly arousing and, for the English, the word ’fanny’ refers to a totally different part of the female anatomy!

In contrast, most of the English words usually used for this part of our anatomy carry far more erotic appeal me, notably ‘bottom’, ‘buttocks’ and ‘rump’. We also often use one delightfully delicate, polite ‘borrowed’ foreign word for a bottom the French word ‘derriere’!


In America the ultimate spanking in theirspanking stories often seems to be a wooden spanking paddle. I have never been spanked with a wooden paddle, so I cannot comment on its effectiveness. However, to me, the word does not convey the same erotic thrill as a cane or a birch. To me, a wooden paddle is just a heavy lump of wood, which appears to be a rather crude and unrefined way of delivering a spanking to someone’s bottom. In contrast, the French often use the martinet whip. Like everything French, this seems to possess a certain degree of sophistication and refinement, and certainly appeals to my erotic senses!

When an American applies a paddle to a ‘butt’, each strike is often called a ‘lick’. Again, to the English mind, the term ‘stroke’ or ‘whack’ seems to hold more appeal. The same applies to the sounds associated with the paddle. ‘Whop’, for instance, sounds far less intimidating than the ‘swish-thwack’ of a cane!

This is not to say that American authors do not write excellent erotic spanking stories. However, the words often used do not get my juices flowing! It is, like everything in life, a matter of cultural and personal taste.


There are some wonderfully worded crafted descriptions of bottoms and spankings in the Janus Story ‘The Perfectionists’ by Steven Simms I quoted in my previous post. Here are just a few snippets from this story:

He surveyed the ripe hillocks so snugly encased in the whipping drawers.
Her tightly-clenched posteriors.
The strap drew back and smacked in again, appearing to bounce off the springy cushions of caressable flesh.
….two large, smoothly naked buttocks, soft and invitingly rounded, the pale light quivering on the lush cushions of pliant flesh.
He slashed the tawse down on the twin-globed target with the deeply-cleft divide.
The full-seated buttocks were blushing angrily.
Her supremely globulous bottom-cheeks raged with ecstatic fires.
Raising the cane above the full, lush buttocks she brought it down to strike with a swish and splat across the girl’s buttocks….A bright red line at once flamed across the curved cushions of flesh.
Her supple back swooped down to the top of the deep incurving cleft between the swelling glories of two exquisitely rounded, petal-soft buttocks, the undercheeks dipping tightly into the bushy crevice between sturdy silken thighs. A staunchly-controlled joy surged in him, for that marble-white, flawless bottom…. was to be his to chasten …

He brought the birch swishing down to collide with a profound Thrashhh! against the marble-white cheeks of that glorious upraised bottom.
He whipped the next stroke with accurately-placed force against the shuddering hillocks, making them wobble and jump. A meshwork of scarlet lines had sprung up glaringly on the satin-smooth surfaces of the target area, changing their previous ivory hue to the healthy pinkness of a maiden’s blush…..he knew it was his stern duty to cover every inch of those ripe curvaceous mounds…
Hrrrassh! The birch twigs slammed yet again across the lushly feminine derriere now crimson-hot …
….the birching continued, thrashing and swishing across her roasting nether-globes…..
Her hips began to rock with rhythmic urgency, and at each spasm her tormented buttocks heaved upwards, so eager did they seem to meet the birch’s downstroke. And the Magister saw, and a stern joy flowed through him as he subtly altered his arm’s rhythm to match that of the beautiful livid bottom which was now rising and falling with the intent thrusting energy of a piston….

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