A Carrot and a Stick

Carrot and Stick has just become my second story to pass 200 likes, a naughty tale of wanking, spanking and anal sex. If you haven’t yet read it, here’s an excerpt that might tantalise you:

“She had been given the stick, now it was time for her to be given the carrot.

It consisted of eight orange balls, of increasing size, one on top of the other, with the smallest diameter ball was at the top, and the very largest ball at the bottom.

It was an anal toy. They jokingly called it The Carrot.

He applied more lube to her bottom hole, massaging her pussy to keep her from tensing, and began to slip the carrot inside her…

The first ball entered her easily. He began to push it with a steady pressure, and the slightly larger second ball slipped into her hole. She pushed backwards, eager to accept the third ball, feeling it stretch her bottom hole open as it entered her.

She arched her back, legs shaking, moaning weakly as she pulled her bottom apart, her spanked skin tight and stinging. He continued to push, slowly and steadily, feeling her pushing back, wanting to be filled. Her bottom hole began to stretch again.

A finger began to dart in and out of her vagina, only just entering her each time. As she bore down on his hand, the fourth ball entered her entirely.

She gasped, suddenly full, the probing toy no longer an invader, but a missing piece of herself that had found its home…”

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I read your punishment panties story and it took me soo long because I couldn’t stop masturbating. That night when I was in bed I pulled my panties up really tight and gave myself a wedgie until my butt/clit were stinging and then I used my vibrator on my clit. So amazing.

Your joy makes me smile!

Thank you for sharing.

An Anthology of Confessions

I love the symbolism in this image, a self-spanking administered beside a treasure chest, her secret repository of fantasies, which she dips into when she plays. Her eyes are closed, imagining, her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle – or something more intense?

What do naughty girls imagine when reading about spankings?

One of the joys of writing is discovering when your words have been enjoyed. Knowing your words have come vividly to life inside readers’ imaginations is a special thrill. And sometimes, these readers have also been talented writers themselves, and have written in to describe how they imagined a story, or the play it happened to inspire. My words, interpreted by your words.

You might have missed some of these fantastic (and often very arousing) vignettes. So here are the best collected together: an anthology of spanking story confessions, if you will, grouped by the story that inspired them.

Inspired by Punishment Panties

• Spanked at bedtime – “At this very moment, I am wearing only a thin towel. Just finished drying my hair… & the towel just fell to the floor. Strange isn’t it? That I am fully and completely naked typing to you right now. Baring my skin, baring my soul.”
• Torment and Joy – “I can’t help but try to stimulate myself, pushing on and rubbing at the tight bundle over my clit, searching for any way to get my fingers inside myself to no avail, simply adding to my torment.”
• Memories – “Best friends who tenderly explored each other’s most secret folds before we were told that it was naughty, is something that I intimately remember from my childhood. This was the root of my first orgasm while reading the story.”
• I’m Disgracefully Damp – “There, I said it: I, Alex, have cum so many times to the point that my panties are translucent and clinging, and I’ve only devoured Chapter 4.”
• A story of Me – “I too had a partner in crime, we would have so many adventures in her basement together when we were young and just starting to explore ourselves, although we were never caught.”

Inspired by Lupercalia

• A little confession – “I had the story on my mind all day, till I got home.  As soon as I got in, I locked my door and stripped down to my panties.”
• I Got What I Deserved – “The way Miss made Jenny feel like a clumsy child is almost verbatim the emotions that tutor inspired in me so many years ago.”

Inspired by Abstract Art

• Confession of a spanking lesson – “I took the ruler and stroked the edge of it along my inner thighs and on my bottom. It made me shiver with pleasure. I smacked along with the story. My bottom stung and I did the bend over dance as each blow fell harder and harder.”
• Comment of the Month – “Holy shit this is exactly what I masturbate fantasizing about. Naughty girls being spanked in front of their class… maybe a little more.”

Inspired by Throne of Shame

• A Feisty Princess – “He made the girls “ride” the “horse” (again, horribly embarrassing and, thus, terribly arousing).”

Inspired by Carrot and Stick

• Brand New Eyes – “Before I stumbled across this site, I had never really understood the appeal of spanking…”

Inspired by Waiting

• My Waiting Game – “I know the rules. No peeping. No taking off the blindfold til I’m told. And I’m definitely not allowed to cum.”

Hopefully the stories on this site will have added some new fantasies to your own treasure chest.

And if you enjoy writing and expressing yourself in words, perhaps you’ll also be inspired to write and share your own reading experiences. Anonymously, of course.

Did a story put into words one of your long cherished fantasies, or resonate with a formative erotic memory? Has reading about spanking intensified your fascination – or even inspired you to discover what it feels like?

We are the sum of our stories – and I, and the thousands of other readers of this blog, would love to hear more of yours.

Image credit: februaryleaf (on deviantart)

Spanked at bedtime

An anonymous reader writes:

At this very moment, I am wearing only a thin towel. Just finished drying my hair… & the towel just fell to the floor. Strange isn’t it? That I am fully and completely naked typing to you right now. Baring my skin, baring my soul.

Now I’m going to put on my Punishment Panties…

Oooh yes, they’re nice and tight. Mmm I just pulled them slightly and twirled the fabric making the panties thinner between my thighs.

I feel the cotton now, it’s rubbing nicely between my legs right up against my bottom hole and my folds. I’m ready now.

Time for my naughty girl spanking.

My good hard bare bottom spanking…

I’m am recreating it for you here. It was really delightful…

I pulled my reins hard until they stretched even thinner and tighter around my most sensitive areas. The tightness made me squirm oddly and anxiously…

My lips are parted softly by the bunched material, and my bottom hole is trying to welcome what will not enter fully.

I spot my paired white slippers on the floor beside my bed… and bend over carefully to pick up the right one. While I bend over, I feel the fabric finding its home, carefully glued between my legs and my cheeks. Definitely a good pair of panties for punishment. They’re exceptionally tight tonight.

I bring the slipper to my bottom and pat myself a few times. I’m already squirming with excitement. I use one hand to grip my desk firmly, while I use the other to hold my slipper in ready position…

”I’ve been a naughty girl”, I sigh.

Smack! “oooh that’s one…” Smack! “ahh that’s twooo….”

I bring it down harder. Smack! Smack!! “three, ahh! and four..”

My bottom is throbbing already and I assume it’s nice and pink. I can feel the sting around the stretched panty line. There will be a mark tomorrow.

Smack! I groan loudly “fffive…”

I pull my hand back and really let it go. SMACK!

I jump as the slipper hits my sorry little lower cheek.

“Mhmmm si-i-i-x…” I drag out the i.

I continue this smacking a little harder each time…

I feel my punishment panties getting wet. I give myself a few more spankings, and now the panties are really clinging to my wet opening, struggling to fit inside.

I’m panting and groaning and crying out… Smack!

“Ooh fifteen… that’s good. I’m a naughty girl. I’ve been so naughty…” I whisper in a quick breath. I’m on my tippy toes with my body leaning over my cool desk. The slipper still clutched tightly in my hand.

I drop it to the floor… and return to my keyboard.

Now I have this terrible urge to rub and rub, but I tell myself it’s all part of the punishment. I turn towards my mirror and look at my bottom. Oh yes, it’s wonderfully red. I bend forwards a little, and I can see the panties, which now look like a string, running down between my cheeks and right against my puffy wet slit. It’s throbbing and looks so nice to touch… to play with… no! I can’t do that.

I’d better tell you what I did instead.

I took some ribbon from my drawer and pulled it carefully through the two holes for my round cheeks in my panties, making sure to keep my panties nice and tight. They’re still delightfully clinging to my puffiness, to my wetness.

Then I stood with my back to my closet door and looped the ribbon over the strong hook on the back of the door. I stood on my toes, and pulled the ribbon as tight as I could, then tied it off. Suddenly, I feel my panties pull and stretch incredibly tight. I’m on my very tippy toes, so if I lower, they dig deep within me.

I’m getting excited again. My panties are now a thin line in between my thighs, soaked by my wetness. I can feel my juices squelch. I’m really groaning now and slowly sinking lower, feeling the panties tugging in deeper with every quarter inch I lower my body.

I can’t help but allow my fingers to brush the wet fabric, my panties pressing so perfectly against my little pearl. I’m not playing with myself, but I do stroke softly for a moment and I groan feeling tingly all over again.

After standing ashamed for five minutes, I untie the ribbon, sighing with relief.

Right now I’m just about ready for bed. I’ve brushed my teeth, washed my face… and I walked around my room very awkwardly with my punishment panties stretched nice and tight between my legs.

I’m putting on my long pyjama shorts now. Okay, they’re tied nice and I’ve made the knot tricky to untie. I hope I can get it in the morning!

I was just lying down for a little bit (like ten minutes ago) and I wanted to touch myself so bad. Your story was right though, the shorts and tight panties make it nearly impossible – and they’re there as a reminder not to. The sting of my spanking is also remarkable…

I felt so horny all of a sudden… and just got desperate… started to brush my fingers over my nipples and I began to squeeze my breasts pressing them together and bouncing them. But! I know I’m not supposed to be playing… so I just put on a short sleeve t-shirt restricting any naughty business…

I’m about to go to sleep with my panties tight between my legs now. I have to lie on my stomach because my bum stings too much tonight. Whatever position I’m in, back, front, side, I certainly feel the panties pressing tight into me. They’re snug and still moist. I wonder what I’ll dream tonight…

The next morning…

I woke up this morning with a delicate throbbing between my buttocks and my vagina. The panties had been pulled nice and tight all night long and they felt very wedged in after last night’s punishment.

I can remember a dream. A naughty one. I don’t recall all the details… but I was definitely having sex and I remember groaning and grinding against my panties in my sleep. The tight panties kept my from stroking myself and I think that made the dream more intense. The fabric pressing hard against my delicate area was… lovely.

I definitely had to pee. I got up quickly and walked over to the bathroom eagerly tugging on my shorts, only to realize I had to undo the crazy knot. My fingers fumbled as quickly as they could, but the knot wouldn’t come undone. I was doing a little dance now while I tried harder and harder to untie the knot. This was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and I felt more panicked as the knot wouldn’t come undone. Good girls don’t wet their panties!

Finally and thankfully they fell to the floor. I pulled the panties down which were sticky and all twirled up. And I released. It felt so good, so, so good- but actually also hot and painful from my punishment panties. When I was done, I picked up the panties and examined them. They were stretched and soaking wet. The entire strip between my legs ached.

I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my cheeks wide. Oh yes, I saw the pretty red mark straight through my bum curving into my little secret area. It feels like it will probably hurt for a while…

Next I took a tissue and walked over to my bed. I got onto my hands and knees, then crouched lower on my upper body/tummy with my legs still bent and my bottom spread.

I used one hand to open myself up, and very slowly, I wiped my bottom hole in slow little circles.

I rubbed around and around, panting as I imagined my examiner scrutinising my sticky places.

When I finished, I examined the tissue. I frowned… it was dirty.

I’m a dirty girl. A dirty girl who deserves a good spanking.

I looked down ashamed, and I squatted on the bed again and gave myself four hard smacks on my bare bum with my hand. I cried out softly, but not like last night.

Afterwards I went to the shower to clean up my naughtiness. I shaved myself, scrubbed and rubbed myself until I was nice and fresh.

When I dressed, I felt a clean pair of panties pressed against my sensitive curves. Nothing like the punishment panties at all –  which I slightly missed in a way. Only a tingly ache between my legs, reminding me of my naughtiness.

Thank you for your inspiration. I’m a naughty, naughty girl and I really do deserve my spankings and bottom inspections.

Torment and Joy

An anonymous reader writes:

I can’t stop rocking my hips, every time I move I feel them, the bunched fabric between my lips, the tight pressure on my tail bone, perineum, and clit, the waist pulled high over my hips, I can’t help but try to stimulate myself, pushing on and rubbing at the tight bundle over my clit, searching for any way to get my fingers inside myself to no avail, simply adding to my torment.

I’m going to sleep in my punishment panties tonight. With a very thorough inspection in the morning as your story describes, and more than likely a few fingers in my pussy…

(another message followed the next morning…)  

My, punishment panties were deliciously painful, I couldn’t help but pull them tighter and tighter as I lay in bed this morning, eating up the painful pressure on my hard clit, I found myself squirming and struggling against them, only serving to tease myself more as I pulled hard on them. Removing them was almost as arousing as wearing them, feeling the fabric slowly peel out of my crack and release the pressure on my tortured clit before slipping out between my lips with the slightest hesitation.

I did my inspection bent over looking between my legs in a mirror, running my finger along my pretty new stripe, the tip entering my soaked pussy for hardly a moment before continuing, I was absolutely in love with my bum hole, circling it before briefly dropping in for the smallest moment, my clit also showed it’s abuse well, clearly showing where my panties had pinned it.

As soon as my inspection was finished I hurried back to bed where I lay on my back, two fingers inside myself as soon as I was down, fingering myself hard before moving to my clit, rubbing it as hard and fast as I could, no matter how much I gave it, it demanded more, desperate for every bit of stimulation it could handle, soon my fingers returned to my begging hole, wasting no time reaching full performance, but still my desperate little hole begged for something bigger than I could give it, my juices dripping as I worked my pussy, desperate for more all the way to the end.

Secrets and Shadows

What would be your reaction if you watched a mainstream movie with friends or family that contained a scene like this? Ostentatious delight or embarrassed chuckles?

Come to think of it, how many people know of your most cherished fantasies? Have you ever felt awkward about keeping them secret?

Here’s a passage that might get you thinking, by the great psychologist Carl Jung:

“I had a dream which both frightened and encouraged me. It was night in some unknown place, and I was making slow and painful headway against a mighty wind. Dense fog was flying along everywhere.

“I had my hands cupped around a tiny light which threatened to go out at any moment. Everything depended on my keeping the little light alive. Suddenly I had the feeling that something was coming up behind me. I looked back, and saw a gigantic black figure following me. But at the same moment I was conscious in spite of my terror, that I must keep my little light going through night and wind, regardless of the dangers.

“When I awoke I realized at once that the figure was my own shadow on the swirling mists, brought into being by the little light I was carrying. I knew too that this little light was my consciousness, the only light I have. Though infinitely small and fragile in comparison with the powers of darkness, it is still a light, my only light.”

— Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams and Reflections

Isn’t that first sentence intriguing? “I had a dream which both frightened and encouraged me.”

Even Jung was frightened and disturbed by his dreams sometimes. But he realised that every light casts a shadow, and we’re biologically wired to perceive shadows as dark. But it’s easy to forget about the beautiful, unique and wondrous light that cast the shadow – that’s You.

The Light is your public persona: the showcase of your personality, everything you want to be, and want to project.

Your Shadow is the opposite, it’s composed of things we keep hidden, the secrets and thoughts we decide to keep to ourselves. We are social creatures, and society functions because we have masks to wear and roles to play. As we grow up we learn to be discreet, deciding what side of ourselves to present in public. But that’s ok, our culture might unravel if everyone was suddenly completely candid with each other, there’s nothing wrong with keeping certain thoughts and desires private.

Jung believed our Shadow self also contains the things that frustrate us, that have wounded us, and scare us: “The shadow personifies everything that the subject refuses to acknowledge about himself.” But Jung also believed there was gold in the Shadow; that it wasn’t a mental dumping ground, some toxic cache of taboos and frustrations, but a vital creative resource, a region to explore, and ultimately embrace – because our Shadow is as much part of us as our hands.

Seen this way, the nature of our Shadows is nothing to be embarrassed about. Your Shadow is not your Dark Side, some evil simulacrum of you, it’s your Private Side. Whatever turns you on, whatever fantasies you harbour, that’s fine. Everyone has a right to mental privacy, to decide what they reveal about themselves, and what they keep secret. Proponents of internet surveillance insist “if you’ve nothing to hide, you’ve nothing to fear”. They are wrong, we all have something to hide, and you have every right to go on hiding it.

The moral of Jung’s dream was it was important not to demonise your Shadow, that we should not be disturbed by it, or recoil from it. That we should seek to understand and accommodate this side of ourselves, rather than repress it.

Happily, I expect most who read this will be comfortable with their own Shadow. Anyone browsing a blog about kink and spanking is likely to be quite accepting of what excites them.

Yet many are still embarrassed by their Shadows. All those thoughts, desires and memories stashed away in some dark, dusty recess of their mind, like the portrait of Dorian Gray, rarely visited or contemplated out of fear of the scars they might find marring their souls.

Perhaps you once thought like that. But now you’re realising there was no reason to recoil from what gives you enjoyment. That just because no one else knows how much spanking excites you, doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with it – or you.

That’s what I like about Jung’s philosophy. He doesn’t view the mind as an engine that occasionally breaks down and needs to be fixed, but as a landscape to explored, accepted and understood. He presents a more positive view of our private realm, a secret playground rather than an loathsome hidden portrait; maybe Wilde thought so too.

So I hope this blog aids your journey of self-exploration, that each story you read adds to the erotic repertoire you curate within your personal Shadow playground. That each story will inspire the extraordinarily powerful facilities of your own imagination.

Be proud, and never ashamed, of your mind’s wonderful adventure playground.

Even if no one else knows it’s there.

 

 

Lovely image credit: Thomas Dodd