spanking

Aperitif

Straight out of the shower

So fresh  and so clean

Brazilian waxed with

Not a hair to be seen

My cheeks are divided

All treasures on view

Just waiting for action

You know what to do

My bottom is twitching

Awaiting your strap

And sweet stinging pleasure

From the leather’s tight wrap

Aim good so the tip

Smacks me right at the core

Tip kissing my asshole

Sweet burning, so sore

Red cheeks then a-glowing

And deep in between

Sweet fig starts a-weeping

And you know what that means

So now that I’m tender

And juicy and tight

I’ll welcome your member 

Where you wanted, last night

My rosebud is eager

For your penile desires

Squeeze past my defences 

And claim this sweet prize

Slide deep, slide slowly

Til you’re fully enclosed

And your shaft is embedded

In my tight little rose

But don’t be excited

Don’t act in such haste

My pussy is empty

And that’s such a waste

So have my dark secret

For your aperitif

But save your finale

For my soft silken sheath

Her muscles will squeeze you

And tease you and goad

Til control is all gone and

Your orgasm explodes

A Mother’s Gift (repost)

 

 

belt

 

Miranda stepped into her son’s room. Her eyes roamed the walls, shelves and books, absorbing his essence. She sighed, stood, and started packing up the possessions. Soon his room would be transformed for the next generation, as a nursery for Adam’s firstborn, and Miranda’s first grandchild.

Miranda paused and considered her situation. A grandmother at 42 – thanks to a young pregnancy herself and then the fruitful loins of her firstborn. At least he had finished university before he got his girlfriend pregnant. Still, Tia seemed a nice girl, maybe too nice. She would need a firm hand to control Adam. (more…)

Rosebottom recruits

 The Rosebottom Centre for Attitudinal Adjustment

red

seeks

Product Development Assistants

“We strive to achieve Bottom Marks”

Rosebottomers leave no bottom untouched in our pursuit of the perfect Rosebottom result. Our employees bend over to present our clients with the perfect opportunity to test our products and enact any scenario. We provide the perfect tools for attitudinal adjustment.

We are constantly seeking the next big thing in correctional devices, seeking new ways to excite, entice and warm the hearts of our clients’ bottoms. To assist, we need a new group of Product Development Assistants to provide practical help in the design, testing and marketing of a new range of leather, wood and acrylic adult goods.

To thrive as a Product Development Assistant you must be flexible, resilient and tolerant of painful and uncomfortable situations. You should be able to withstand an environment which may be taxing yet intensely enjoyable.

Every item we sell is  individually inspected and tested in a real-life environment. To assist our Testers you will assume a number of positions throughout the day. Essential safety equipment is provided to protect non-test areas of the body. Clothing restrictions often apply to testing environments.

If you work in our New Product Division you can expect to test many unique products designed for attitudinal adjustment. We employ a bottom-up, hands-on and highly participative methodology that delivers startling results when rigorously applied. Your bottom lines will be testament to the rigour of our Testers.

Quality control Development Assistants will assist as Subject participants in our OTK (Objective Testing Knowledge) protocols. These include:

  • Impact Testing: efficacy of the product in delivering a trademark Rosebottom glow; measures speed of heat transfer to Subject bottom.
  • Ease of Use: testers rate products on ergonomic handling and comfort (Subject comfort is inversely proportional to Tester comfort)
  • Longevity: occasionally we utilise destruction protocols to test product longevity. These can be particularly arduous to Subject bottoms as it is the product destruction we are testing, not the Subject.

As these protocols are rigorously applied they are particularly demanding on Development Assistants. We offer recovery rooms and massage service. Recovery rooms also provide options for ‘personal relief’ following testing sessions.

Successful applicants need to be flexible, inhibition-free, open-minded and highly resilient. You will be required to work in close, intimate and physically demanding personal situations with colleagues on a daily basis. Due to the nature of our work, we offer a clothing-optional work place.

We offer a lifetime supply of Rosebottom products for your personal enjoyment.

Please note that our interview process is long, rigorous, physically demanding but intensely enjoyable. We often require multiple personal testing sessions before making a selection decision.

Join us now, and you could become our next Rosebottom of the Month.

A wife knows

The car door slammed and heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs from the garage. The man wearily stepped into the kitchen, turning to close the door behind him. The effort of such a minimal task seemed almost too much to bear. He finally closed the door and walked into the kitchen. His wife looked at him sympathetically. She handed him a cold beer.

“Tough day, dear?”

“You could say that. Those little bastards know how to wind me up these days”. He took the beer bottle and twisted the top sharply, his frustration showing in every movement. He took a deep draught and placed the bottle on the counter, leaning his weight on his arms. His wife stepped behind him and reached up to rub his shoulders. The tension was evident through the white cotton of his shirt, damp now with the sweat of the late spring afternoon.

“You know how they get to you. You shouldn’t let them. What happened today?”

He spoke without turning. “Josie Smallwood. Caught smoking again. I’ve had her in my office every week over this and all I can do is send her to the School Counsellor. Little bitch knows how I hate girls smoking and she just pushes my buttons. She puts on that whiny little voice about how it’s an addiction and the school needs to be tolerant. Back in the day the only tolerance she’d have got from me would be to keep her fucking knickers on for a thrashing. Liberal bastards. Let them spend a day in a school, see if they can cope.”

She tried to placate him. “Oh surely it’s not that bad. I’m sure she’s trying to quit. And you were always so good with the kids.”

He stood up from the counter and faced her. At six two he was a head taller than her and she felt the little girl inside tremble slightly in the presence of this man who had been a Head for the last 15 years. It destroyed her to see how the last few years were eating away at his self-esteem. He spoke again, “It’s not just the smoking, it’s the attitude these days. Little bitch said, ‘my dad told me he would have been caned for smoking. Said you’d cane his bare bum. Shame you can’t do that to me, sir. Maybe it would help’. She said it with a smirk and little FUCKING wiggle. She’s a little whore, that one. Wouldn’t surprise me to find her pregnant before the end of the year. Christ, but I would like to whip some respect into that girl’s arse, I can tell you.”

She looked up at him, a man broken by a broken system. She knew what would help. What always helped, whether it was he or she that needed a lift. “Well,” she said. “I did have a little confession of my own. But I’m not sure you’re in a mood to deal with it,” as she spoke she played with the buttons on his shirt. The cues of their game were well understood on both sides. Each had become totally attuned to the other over the last 25 years. He quickly adopted his role, shrugging off the toils of the day as the old urges stirred.

He looked down into those big, brown eyes. “Well now, what’s the problem then, my dear?”

She stroked his chest as she spoke, “Let’s just say it was me who smoked a pack today. What’s that? 20 smokes? I’m pretty sure back in the day, you’d have had a way to deal with that, to make me see the error of my ways. No need to be lenient with me, either.” She looked up as she spoke, then bit her lip gently.

He felt the swelling urge in his pants at the thought. “Well now. 20 smokes in a day. That’s a big problem young lady. One that needs to be stamped out right now. Only way I see for that is a painful solution. I think the price is one swat for every cigarette. Bare bum, naturally. Are you prepared to take your medicine, to set you on the right track?”

She smiled as she saw her old husband came back from under the toils of the day. “Well I guess I have to be. I know I’ve been really, really bad, and I know you only want to help me.”

image“Well then, you head into my office and make yourself ready. I’ll be right in.”

A few minutes later he entered the small office at the back of the house. The sight before him caught his breath. Here was his wife of 25 years, naked from the waist down and bent over the desk. Her feet were spread wide and her back was dipped to open her bum cheeks up, revealing the wrinkled brown eye within and the delights of her sex. She had balanced their spanking paddle on her back. She wiggled her bum slightly as she heard his footsteps, careful not to unbalance the paddle.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled as she said, “When we’re finished with the smokes, I should also tell you I had a real hankering to suck on a big, fat cigar today.”

Driven to distraction

So apparently sex and driving don’t mix in Russia. I don’t mean ACTUAL sex. I’m sure we all know, or at least, can imagine how tricky it can be to concentrate on driving when attempting to give or receive sexual favours at the wheel. Oral sex is a particular favourite and a somewhat risky manoeuvre on post-winter potholed streets. Makes texting whilst driving positively pedestrian.

No – Russia is imposing a driving ban on transgender and transsexual people, fetishists, exhibitionists and voyeurs. All are considered “mental disorders” now barring people from driving, according to BBC News website. This is, apparently all in a bid to reduce road accidents.

Exhibitionism I get. Seeing a pair of naked buttocks pressed to the side window of a passing car whilst the owner bends to blow her partner could lead to a loss of control. I get that. Catching site of some back seat doggy with a pair of swinging boobs on display is likely to cause one’s eyes to stray from the road ahead for more than a moment (especially if voyeurism is your thing, so there’s two down).

Now, I can see that actual sex acts, whether ‘fetish’ or not, should be avoided when the car is in motion. It can be quite distracting to all concerned, especially if done right. And I can see situations where participants in ‘the lifestyle’ might be well advised to avoid driving. That leather head mask might be a bit restrictive for shoulder checking, I can see that. And if you’ve just come from a session with a favourite Domme, your ability to sit comfortably at the wheel is, I would hope, severely compromised due to the latticework of welts decorating your nether regions. Same goes for figging, or a butt plug. Must be damned tricky to sit comfortably with a bottle stopper shoved up your arse, or a stinging root.

Maybe the perception is that fetishists have such a wildly exciting sex life that their mind is constantly dreaming up the next scenario, so that in the throes of a well-imagined scene they end up rear-ending a meaty Russian (possibly thereby killing two birds with the proverbial stone, or whip maybe). Or maybe it has to do with the Russian predilection for spanking – if any of the stronger websites are any indication, there is a particularly sadistic streak in the pysche, or the recent story of the Russian doctor curing addictions through caning.

If the Russian bureaucracy were to introduce corporal punishment in a bid to reduce traffic accidents, they would not want to be encouraging poor driving as a result. Can you imagine the result!

“Sorry officer, I saw you there so I put my foot down harder. I heard I can get 10 strokes for every kilometre over the limit.”

“Oops. I seem to have smacked you up the rear. Oh well, eye for an eye I suppose!”

“That was  a No Entry street? Well if I’m to learn my lesson, you should show me what it feels like to have someone go up my No Entry then!”

I can see how this might all fall apart very swiftly. But on the other hand, maybe this is exactly the time to consider a job in law enforcement. Just imagine pulling over this car full of young beauties and sniffing a little booze in the air. Some swift discipline in the backseat and four hot bottoms later, all is good, except for the night-stick now extending painfully down my pants leg.

The Voyeur

window-watching

My office overlooks a hotel in the downtown core. I like to stay late, sitting in the dark and watching what might unfold across the street. Often times I’ve been treated to a quick flash of underwear as a female guest undresses on the way to the shower, not anticipating an audience 23 floors above the city. I’ve seen some nice tits in my time. It’s better in the winter when the nights arrive early. Guests heading back to their rooms to quickly change before a night-out often neglect to draw the blinds.

I’ve seen many sights from my darkened office. I keep a small pair of binoculars for the more interesting moments. Many times it’s the men who care little for their privacy. They fling their office clothes off at the end of the day, then lay on the bed, tugging off a quick one before dressing again for a night of beers with their city-friends. More than once I’ve watched a guy stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and wank away to the city below. I guess they get a thrill from their pseudo-exhibitionism, safe as they are from the street level stares.

From what I’ve seen, the business traveller takes on a new persona away from home, away from the mundane security of daily family life. I’ve seen men and women, young and old, bringing partners into their rooms, tearing the clothes off each other in their passion. Rarely does the visitor stay the night – I guess it is easier to explain a late night meeting or dinner with clients than it is to explain a night’s absence to a partner back home.

I’ve watched some wild antics, too. I watched one business man strip off his pants and underwear, then bend himself over the foot of the bed with his flabby white bum pushed up so that the lady with him could whip him with a scary looking cane. He must have been paying her, I guess, though why I’ve no idea. She should have paid him for the pleasure she took as she slashed away viciously at his plump buttocks. The way the bed was positioned, I could clearly see the mass of purple lines she left behind. Every few strokes, she reached underneath, I’m guessing to wank his cock. I’ve seen women getting a spanking, too. These always seem much more mutually satisfying, to my eye at least. I’ve seen women bending for a hand spanking, mainly, but I’ve seen a girl lay on the bed to be whipped with a belt, and I keenly remember the one who took it good with a riding crop. I’ve enjoyed that moment many times in the quiet darkness of my office. I’ve also seen more blow jobs than I’ve had personally, too.

The most memorable display happened a few weeks back. I saw a couple arrive on a Monday and they clearly had promise. The first night I saw her strip for the shower. The guy she was with grabbed her arm as she passed and eased her down to her knees in front of him. She had knelt there, then unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock before giving him a quick BJ. She left him with a hard-on sticking out of his zipper as she flounced off to the shower. When she came out they started getting it on when she glanced out of the window. I stepped back into the shadows of my office but they shut the drapes, so I was left with my imagination and a hard dick of my own.

Next day I saw them again. The guy had moved a chair in front of the window, sideways on. He came out of the bathroom and sat in the chair, starkers. She came over to him, naked herself, and she knelt down in front of him to blow him. I was looking directly into their room, so I could see everything from my desk, but I wanted more so I moved to the window. I had my binoculars in one hand, the other – well, I’m sure you can guess. My dick was rock hard and caught up in my pants, so I unzipped and tugged him out and started stroking as I enjoyed the view. The girl was bobbing her head up and down on his dick, sucking like she was enjoying a huge Popsicle. She then dipped down to suck on his nuts while she wanked his shaft. I kept time with her movements, using my pre-cum as a lubricant. I could see his dick standing tall and strong, the red tip glowing like a lighthouse beacon – he was a big boy, I can tell you!

After a while he pushed her head away and she stood up and moved to his side with her back to the window. She was a slim thing, beautiful and with a lovely pert bum. He pulled her over his lap so her bum pointed right at the window, maybe two feet from the glass.  The guy nudged her feet and she opened her legs wide as she lay stretched across his knee. The angle of his legs made her bum stick up high and her head hang low, so everything was on display. Through my glasses I could see right up her pussy, wet and open and eager.

I watched as he started smacking her bum. Not too hard to start off with – at least, she didn’t seem to be minding. In fact after a minute he stopped and looked down at her as if was listening to her, then he took up the rhythm again with much more vigour. I could see her bum getting quite pink now, all the way from her thighs to the top of her bum crack, and round both sides. I’d never seen a spanking before, and let me tell you, it was fucking horny. I had dropped my pants by now, so I was standing at my window naked from the waist and gently wanking as I watched. I kept myself on the edge so I didn’t shoot too soon.

He stopped spanking then, and started stroking her cunt. I saw him dip two fingers in and finger-fuck her, then pull out and stick a finger up her ass, and fuck her there too. He stopped, and she stood. He got off the chair and she bent over, hands on the seat and bum pushed out, facing the window again. He knelt down behind her and ate her out, feasting on her wet pussy and arse like a condemned man’s last meal. He stood up then, moved her slightly sideways to the window and slowly pushed his huge dick into her. I could see her pussy lips wrap around his cock as he slid slow and deep. He pulled out most of the way, then rammed home, hard. He kept this up for a while, then started fucking her hard and fast, holding her by the hips to stop her falling. She was gripping the chair like her life depended on it. Suddenly he stopped, shoving himself in hard so his cock was buried deep in her cunt, then after a few seconds he gave her a few more gentle fuck-strokes before pulling out.

She stood up and they held each other, then they both turned to the window, held hands and bowed, blew a kiss and pulled the drapes.

Next day, the guest in the room was a fat middle-aged bloke, so I left and took the early train home.

Out For Lunch

nice poem from Bliss. I would love to be that guy, fingers caressing a warm, moist pussy before spanking that delicious bottom in the open air. Just imagine taking her up the back alley. Pun intended.

Wet Bliss

image

You invited me out for a bite to eat

I phoned you to say I was on my way

Anticipation built in rapid heartbeats

I hoped that my needy looks didn’t betray

I truly hungered for something else, more

To fill this fevered, lascivious craving

Crushing me with need building at my core

Thrumming severely with want, I did ache

For the passion to be eased and released…

We meet at the entrance of the local café

One look, and you knew to lead me down the street

Found a secluded alleyway in the broad day

Bared my ass and caressed my creamy cheeks

Punished for wearing panties, you spanked with skill

Enflaming my glorious mounds, and made me leak

Satisfied with our lunch out and all that was spilled

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