Nothing new under the sun as they say, these are 3D images of yesteryear. They were chanced upon on a vanilla blog Pocketful of Ginch. The first two was how they would have been used the rest are details of the image as singles.

My grandmother had a stereoscope for viewing holiday snaps, but she never had anything like these images. The scope itself was red and resembled a pair of binoculars. When one is small it was like magic.

The modern versions of the scope usually have a reel of companion images which turn when one hits the lever. The model used for the images above were viewed one at a time.

Having a bit of a ‘computer says no’ week; well at least it isn’t my computer. But filling out the same forms over and over because someone else’s computer says that their information does not correspond with the other five independent and official sources of the same information is time consuming and very frustrating. Well, enough about that.

The industry news is that Lupus (formerly Rig East) is closing down. These quirky film-makers were often too severe for many tastes, but were highly regarded by many and strove to make original artistic stories often in sepia.

My Bottom Smarts has a new list of many new picture and other spanking blogs to explore, so do not be too downhearted.

Acknowledging Imperfection has another short story. In fact Kia has started writing for the Library of Spanking Fiction, which is free to join.

Blossom and Thorn have a short piece on going back to school a theme touched upon over at Sometimes a Girl, which has some contributions from college girls seeking a guiding hand during the new term.

The pictures this week are from: Abel, Acknowledging Imperfection, All Things Spanking, Au Fil de Jours, and Blossom & Thorn.

One Hand from Sometimes A Girl asked after any true accounts. It is a popular request and many snippets that have appeared here before certainly have purported to be true. With both on and off topic web forum’s abounding there are many such stories out there, although we have to assume that a fair proportion of them are fantasies. But as the man said, why let the truth get in the way of a good story? You are all grown-ups and when these stories do emerge you are well able to decide for yourself as to the likely voracity of such tales.

On that note here is one that originated as a corrupt file on my old 850 that was auto saved (or partially) to my back-up. I ignored it for some time because it was incomplete and in a mess. However, prompted by OHM’s request I did some delving and found one or two interesting little clips for possible future publication. But they are mostly corrupted with garbage after each paragraph.

This one was next to useless until I searched for some key words and found a more complete version. The original came from a gopher site that had I remember now was a sort of forerunner to forums like One Hand’s and the Experience Project. I used trawl this and others like it and save interesting items to a zip drive. I think most of these will be lost as the few I resaved are largely corrupt, but some cane be extracted maybe.

Coincidentally Sometimes a Girl is running some tales on its forum that echo this theme.

Again not sure what the motive for sharing this story was, but here is an edited slightly cleaned-up version of the tale.

Margaret (surname withheld in case it’s real) had this to share.

My experience of house-sharing both during my time at college in Manchester and after had been a grim one. Maybe that explains my attitude to what happened when I moved to London. I still don’t have it clear in my head. Maybe it is also sexual! I kind-of think so – ugh – that’s too messy to think about, which is why it might be true… oh I don’t know. I was sick of sticking messy flats with fridges that had stuff living in them and on one occasion rats!

(There was a lot of this side chat which was mostly culled for the final edit.)

I answered an advert for a house in Hackney to share with the landlady and one other. The one other turned out to be a mysterious City PA called Kate who I did not meet for six weeks. What her story was and how she dealt with Jane (the landlady) I don’t know for she moved out after a few months and I only met her all of four or five times.

I was 23 at the time and Jane (ever cagey about her age) was around 33 maybe. She came across as a hippy type, but she was a bit cold I thought and seemed to have about a million rules.

But the house was clean, smartish and had a reasonable sized garden. It was an end terrace up a quiet street and the rent for digs 5 minutes from a railway station was unbelievably cheap.

(There was a lot of incoherent detail about flowers and her room which has been omitted since it needed too much editing.)

The only fly in the ointment was that I was a smoker in those days and Jane had a strictly no smoking rule. Not even in the garden.

She caught me smoking on the back steps during my second week and went mental.

I got the lecturer about smoking, then one about lying and generally bollocked. Then she said something like, “I should smack your bottom, really I should.”

I got a strange feeling when she said that and I became all flushed and flustered. But she only laughed.

“Have you ever been spanked before?” she asked.

I was really embarrassed for some reason.

Jane let it go, but a few weeks later we had a few rows. Mostly about the mess, which she was totally right about. While she had been on holiday, I had carried on smoking in the garden, but she found a single butt that I had missed. Then I left the bath running. It overflowed and we had really bad flood.

I knew she wanted me to leave, or I thought she did. I don’t know for sure. I was still wrapped in my towel when she came up to see me.

“You want me to go don’t you?” I said.

Jane laughed and said I looked so cute like a naughty puppy. I said that I was sorry and offered to pay for the damage.

Then she just said, “I really ought to just spank your bottom.”

I was all shy and tongue-tied. I might have replied “Oh you wouldn’t would you?”

Jane had this odd way of talking like a hippy from a book. She said cool and man a lot, but like it was put on. Then she came back with, “Shall I? I don’t know if I shall. What do you think? Don’t you deserve a soundly smacked bottom?”

I pathetically said, “Oh please don’t.”

She went away and came back with a shoe. It was canvas with a rubber sole and I remember it was mauve with yellow spots.

She was frowning and started to tell me off and then she said “Come on, over my knee, it is smack bottom time.”

“What?” I said. There was a dizzying surge of blood to my face.

The next thing I was over her lap as she sat on the laundry basket in the bathroom while she whacked away at my bottom. All I could think at first was that my towel had slipped and my bottom was bare then I felt the sting.

At first I tried to laugh it off, but her telling me off was too authentic and the spanking really hurt. Soon I was kicking a yelling as she put me in my place.

The spanking didn’t last long and after I sat on the floor with a throbbing backside and trying not to cry. I was totally confused and didn’t know what to say.

Then she said, “You deserved that didn’t you?”

“I suppose,” I found myself saying.

She laughed and went to clean up my mess, which I should have helped with but I was too embarrassed and off balance. So I hid in my room and looked at my bottom in the mirror. She had really gone for it and I had bruises and red marks that lasted days.

It did clear the air between us and our relationship became something between aunt and big sister. She didn’t mention the spanking again and I noticed that I was less messy and the house was more relaxed.

One day I left some milk in the fridge went off and she scolded me saying ‘what you need is another spanking.’

I blushed and just gaped at her but nothing came of it. I was kind of disappointed I think now.

Then one day while Jane was away again I had a smoke in my room. There was no ashtray so I put the lit cigarette on the bedside table while I went to the toilet. When I came back the table had burned and the cigarette had fallen on the floor scorching the carpet.

I hid the damage with a book and forgot about it.

It was weeks later when she said “I have had just about enough with you and smoking.”

I was genuinely confused until she led me to my room and pointed at the burn marks.

While I spluttered out apologies Jane stormed off and came back with the shoe she had used before.

“Take your jeans and underwear down,” she said.

I argued and pleaded, but I only sounded like a kid so somehow I did what I was told.

This time I was over her knee properly and I got a really long hard spanking until I did cry. Well I say until, actually she didn’t stop when I started crying but bawled me out with the bollocking of my life and continued spanking me.

I ended up sobbing my heart out face down on the bed with my jeans and knickers still around my ankles where she told me to stay. She even threatened me with another spanking if I moved.

I felt totally punished and I didn’t even dare inspect the damage. But it was good to cry and I felt better after. Even though the door was open I even stayed put in that embarrassing position just to please her.

When she came back she put some cream on my bum and began to tell me off again as she did it. She told me I had to quit smoking and if she found out I had been smoking in or out of the house I would get more.

All this while Jane put cream on my bottom and it felt nice and I was close to her somehow.

I didn’t give up smoking for months. I just couldn’t manage it. But every time she smelled it on my breath of found cigarettes anywhere she spanked me.

Jane always spanked me hard over her knee and on my bare bottom. I almost always cried and later she always sent to me to my room.

After a while she would spank me for lots of things so that by the time I did give up smoking I was still under the cosh.

I don’t know how much of what went on Kate knew about, but most of the spankings happened after she moved out. Another girl whose name I forget moved in after that.

She didn’t stay long and I think it was because of the spankings I got. She must have known. I know I could never look her in the eye.

After a gap an older woman called Sarah moved in. She worked long hours so wasn’t there much, which suited me.

Then one day I was over Jane’s knee getting a spanking on my bare bottom in the kitchen when Sarah came home. As you can imagine I almost died. But all she said was “Don’t mind me.”

Sarah seemed to see or hear a lot of my spankings, which after that became longer and harder and more frequent I think. It was Sarah who suggested that Jane put me in the corner, which she took to doing gleefully and sometimes where Sarah could see.

I am sure that is what Sarah hoped she would do.

Sometimes I had to stand in the corner before a spanking to be left to think about it. Sometimes it was afterwards for a good cry, which I preferred if I had to do it, but it was embarrassing if Sarah was there. Occasionally I had to do both, which was totally horrible, but I usually deserved it.

It was a totally crazy time and I lived with Jane and Sarah for four years before moving in with my boyfriend. You can bet I never told him any of this.

I still don’t get it or why I went along with it. But I know it cleared the air and I always felt better after. I like to read about spanking now and sometimes I play at spanking, but nothing like with Jane. I miss the intensity and emotion of it, but not the horribly sore bruised bottoms.

Recently an article on birching from this blog was republished over at Well Red Weekly. So in my quest for recovering lost material from my hard drive it seemed possible that some unused original source material was to be found.

This threw up two separate, mysterious and yet interesting snippets. The first was a reference to the birching of maids on the Isle of Wight. Curious, a search revealed the picture above from the Branding Wax Works Museum on that island. The naked maid getting into bed has definitely been thrashed. Now there is an exhibit some of us would want to see.

The other find was this standalone passage in a single text file that may be from one of my aborted stories. It really is impossible to remember. It was on the partially recovered hard drive in a file from 2006.

-

Emily risked a peek over her shoulder at the birch rod waiting for her. It lay long and menacing on the table, the result of many hours of labour on her part. It was well made and stout and if it hadn’t been destined for a prolonged application across her exposed behind, she would have been a little proud of it.

A sound in the hall beyond the door encouraged her to snap her head back around so that her nose was back in the corner. It was mortifying to stand thus with only a thin blouse and bloomers to cover her. And the bloomers were now down at her ankles where cook had put them so that her neat prominent bottom was bared to the gaze of any who would chance by.

At least the Mr Graham the butler had some decorum and usually absented himself to his parlour at such times. But Herbert and Tom the pot boy would take every chance to enter servant hall while she awaited her chastisement. Emily only hoped that Susan the House maid could keep them at bay. A task she undertook not so much out of sympathy, but out of self-preservation as she herself was not immune from such treatment.

It was bad enough to have to fetch the makings dressed only in one’s underwear. She had heard them sniggering in the bushes. She blushed for the shame of it.

Emily sighed. It had been hour since she had completed the rod and had been sent to the corner. Now there was a light chill around her exposed nethers even as her face continued to burn with shame.

Then finally the door opened and Mr Charles entered.

Emily sucked in a breath, knowing s she did that he could see her bare bottom. But it wasn’t the first time.

“Well my girl, what have you to say for yourself?” he chided her.

Emily was tongue-tied.

Mr Charles gave a heavy sigh and took up the birch.

“Very well, let’s get this over with,” he sounded disappointed. “Come on girl, bend over the table.”

Emily clapped her hands to her naked forward parts and with a strawberry red face scampered across the room in a crouch and bent over.

“Get your bottom out a bit more,” he growled.

It was so embarrassing, but she quickly obeyed, parting her thighs a little for a more secure posture. The table was a little shorter than her legs so that her bottom was well elevated for the coming rod.

“You’ll take three dozen this time and you had better not get out of position,” he told her.

“Yes Sir,” she squeaked.

Mr Charles inspected the target for a moment and then gave a little cough of embarrassment at what she had revealed.

“Legs together a little more,” he said gently.

Emily gaped in horror and quickly closed her legs, an action that elevated her bottom even more.

Satisfied Mr Charles tapped the exposed backside thrice and then brought the rod down with a vengeance.

“One thank you Sir,” she shrieked.

The passage of the rod across her arse left a trail of pain like a million bees. The second stroke was no kinder.

“Two thank you Sir,” she grunted.

It took four more strokes for the first of the tears to come and by then her breathing was ragged and she gently shook her bottom as if to throw off the pain.

“When I am done with you here you spend the rest of the day in that corner, do you hear me,” Mr Charles said in a dark voice.

Then he struck in hard again.

“Yes Sir,” she wailed, “Seven thank you Sir… ooh.”

“Feeling it now I’ll be bound, looks like you are,” he observed.

“Yes Sir,” she sniffed, a tear strolling down her face and off the end of her nose.

The eighth, ninth and tenth strokes really hit home and Emily broke to sobbing.

“I trust you are sorry girl,” he scolded her.

“Ooh, yes Sir,” she wept and then as he struck again she announced, “Eleven thank you Sir.”

Just a third of the way through and she was already broken. Emily doubted that she would ever sit down again.

-

It seems more than a little rough in places; I hope I have come on a little since then. I wonder what else I will find.

The summer is clinging on here in London but there is the beginning of an autumnal feel. Perhaps in response several people, bloggers and otherwise, are taking a last minute break so the season hasn’t started in earnest.

Mostly pictures this week, but Beauty and the Birch have a homage feature on spanking girl cadets at sea. It is illustrated with some old favourites and some relatively rare black and white shots.

Kia at Acknowledging Imperfection has another story. She recently became a contributor over at LSF, which also publishes my stories. The Library of Spanking Fiction is well worth a look.

This week on A Voice in the Corner we have the last part of Last of the Troll Hunters and the next chapter of Magic.

The shots above were taken from About Spanking, Acknowledging Imperfection, All Things Spanking, Cutie Pie and the Spanking Blog.

Censorship and BDSM (the catchall phrase for the vanilla objectors and liberals alike) has hit my radar this week. Not in a big way, but one did chance upon a black ribbon. It is not clear whether this is a movement that has been and gone or something on the up.

The problem is that the only reference was a link to Face Book (and or possibly Twitter) page that wasn’t readily accessible without an account or logging on or…. I do have an FB account somewhere, but I never use it and everyone who is serious in their business has bailed on the personal use of Twitter long ago. So why is this a problem? Well I’m glad you asked me that?

It has always seemed that FB and Twitter may or may not be a useful supplement to having a webpage, but it has never been proved to be a replacement for one. A case in point is that this Black Ribbon campaign may or may not be current or going somewhere, but the information wasn’t readily Google-able or clickable so I can’t tell you much about it.

Maybe it would have been possible to do some digging, but then I thought, if that is needed then this project isn’t going anywhere anyway. It is always possible that this is just another in-house FB/Twitter issue, if so then as you were. Maybe I have been under a rock or am the last to know.

I am aren’t? I just got it and you are all rolling your eyes up at me.

If anyone does know more or has a link to a grown-up blog or website we are always willing to hear more or join a fight of censorship.

So after that bit of non-news here is the rest of the week.

A couple of blogs haven’t updated for a while. British Spanking Magazines is still on their (2012) summer break and my old favourite the Spank Statement hasn’t updated since June. One hopes for updates soon.

For those who live in the UK there is better news. The London Alternative Market celebrated London Fetish Weekend on 14 September and their next market is in two weeks.

Kia has written another spanking story that touches upon bikers over at Acknowledging Imperfection.

Bonnie has published a new list of fairly new blogs over at My Bottom Smarts.

The cartoon strip above is from Chross and it made me smile. The other She-Ra/Wonder Woman cartoon is on the Chicago Spanking Review.

Other pictures are from Blossom and Thorn, Devlin O’Neil and one with a real feel from Plector.

Or should that be reds? Here is a rare little Edwardian gem depicting vintage lesbian spanking and close-up of the action.

Or in some cases the maid spanks back. Just a bit of filler fun for Sunday.

Well Halloween has been and gone and tomorrow is Guy Fawkes or Bonfire Night, depending on where in the UK (and parts of North America) you live. Most of us did the whole fireworks thing on Saturday night so if you are non-British and were in the UK at the weekend rest assured war hasn’t been declared. It is just the day that British people pretend to celebrate the execution of a lot of 17^th century terrorists who tried to assassinate King James VI (First of England) and the entire political nation. It is as mad as it sounds; both then and now.

They do say that Guy Fawkes was the last man to enter Parliament with honest intentions. The truth is that the pagan roots of this dark feats go back to ancient times and may be linked to Halloween.

Currently slated for Wednesday and Thursday is a two part anecdote snippet purporting to be real life accounts. You know the kind of thing. But if an opportunity to link the Gunpowder Plot and spanking arises, I will be sure to take it and the schedule will shunt back a day.

Also coming up this week is the start of a multi-part story set on a very unusual American college campus. It is an M/F tale in the tradition of Abraham Heights. The very final part of Spankmanship is hopefully in the works sometime this month and of course we will be continuing with Magic as it draws to its ultimate close.

Halloween produced a few posts last week, too many to feature here. Let’s hope you enjoyed them.

Rollin Hand had a spanking story and the school picture above was also taken from his blog. Kia also wrote a story about a driving lesson, another scary subject.

Coming up on the 12^th November is Love Our Lurkers Day. This, as ever is being organised by Bonnie over at My Bottom Smarts and the details are here. If you run a blog you can join in or even use a special logo. A Voice in the Corner will be taking part as usual.

The other pictures above are from Cutiepie, Plector, the Spanking Blog and a Dreams of Spanking picture via Spanking Starlets.

As regular readers will know, from time to time this blog runs anecdotes of supposed real spanking adventures. These are often random snippets dug up from an old back-up drive of stories culled from the Internet over the last 20 years (has the Interweb really been with us that long?) or recent discoveries from various sources like the Experience Project, Life Forum, FemFirst and such like.

It is fascinating but readers tend to fall into two camps with regards to their response to these snippets. The first group ‘doubt’ that they are true (as well they might – many are quite farfetched) and the second swallow them whole and (sometimes) expect one to introduce them to the actors in the anecdotes on a social basis. Well this last is an exaggeration, but you would be surprised.

On the whole I do not care if the stories are true or not. They are published in much the same way that Will Henry published his case studies back in the 1960s and 70s, but I know others have higher standards. Nevertheless, these little snippets are among the more popular features of this blog and people actually comment and email asking for more. But since the factory just outside Newport Pagnell that used to manufacture these tales has closed down, we are a hostage to what can be found.

My point is it is evident that everyone should keep a large pot of salt handy when dealing with anything one finds on the Internet and so it should be with this blog when it comes to anecdotes. As ever you pay your money and you takes a chance and for entertainment purposes only here is the first of two stories found online. They have both been edited and ‘spruced up’ a bit for public consumption and for a change they were both long enough for a post each. One I have had for a while and originally came off Collarme and the first one (I think) was found on FemFirst.

Cassie wrote:

On the subject of lesbian spanking, a subject close to my heart (grins), one of my early adventures in this game was not a scene deal. Back in the early 70s I worked as nurse for a couple in Surrey. The gentleman had various medical issues I won’t bore you with and I had to be on hand and live in pretty much 24/7.

They had a 20-year-old daughter Elisabeth who had dropped out of university and was also living with them. She was cute and I suspected at once that she was onside, but as she was such an unpleasant brat and because I was rather dubious of mixing pleasure with business, I decided to back off.

This was particular tough as my own girlfriend of the time was making tracks, and living in a small town as I was in those days was not the best recipe for getting any action. So I think I became a bit of an officious bitch with a stick up my arse as only a 23-year-old cynic can be.

Elisabeth and I clashed over everything, a situation made worse because originally I had been assigned her room and on her return from college I had been relegate to a pokey box room above the garage. This was not only uncomfortable but made by job more difficult. But she didn’t care about that because as I say she was a total brat.

One day while her parents were out, he rarely went anywhere I recall so I think it must have been a hospital visit, well anyway I caught Elisabeth around her father’s meds. I have no idea what she was doing, maybe trying to score something or just trying to make me look bad, I didn’t know or care.

All I knew was that she was bending over my medicine table in her father’s room with those long legs of hers and showing me her little white panties as I came in. I wore midis by then but she still wore hot pants or as on this occasion, a little short A-Line floral dress.

I was furious and shouted at her and she turned on me and said I was a maid or servant, something like that and couldn’t talk to her like that. I said she had no business messing with her father’s medicine and told her to get out.

All hell broke loose and we had something of a cat-fight for a moment. In my defence she totally started it but I soon got the better of her. As we thrashed about on the bed I manoeuvred her over my lap and got a swat in on her bottom.

Her attitude changed at once and although she was obviously still mad at me she started acting more like a kid and saying childish things. I think she actually said ‘I’ll tell my dad.’

I spanked her again and then after a minute of struggling with her, really set to it. At some point I got her little panties down and was spanking her bare bottom. Although she made a lot of noise she didn’t really try all that hard to break free so I was able to give her a long hard spanking until her little bottom was really quite red.

When I finally did let her up she burst into tears and ran off to her room.

I thought I had gone too far and totally expected her to tell her father and get me the sack or even bring assault charges or at least tell the agency. But the next day it was as if nothing had happened.

A day or two after that there was a knock on my door one evening and I opened it to find a rather mousey little Elisabeth standing there. She said she was sorry and that she hoped I wasn’t still mad at her.

I found myself giving her a maternal lecture about the danger of drugs and the risks to her father if she had mixed the meds up. Bear in mind that I was all of three years older than Elisabeth. Then at some point she shyly admitted that she deserved a ‘smacked bottom’ and I said that she hadn’t had half enough in my view. I might have said more but she just became very embarrassed and quickly left.

For a few minutes I thought I had overplayed my hand but then there was another knock and Elisabeth had returned. She had with her a hairbrush with the kind of flat side that can be useful sometimes.

I told her that if I spanked her again this time it would be really hard and done properly. She couldn’t look at me and just went redder in the face.

I still didn’t particularly like her and decided to make a point rather than make it playful. So I sat down in a hard chair and took her over my knees in a business-like fashion and made her bare her bottom her again.

It was hard to hold her in place as I spanked her but I really hit her hard over and over until my arm ached and I could not carry on. Her bum was really well marked with bruises and she was crying for all she was worth. But the funny thing was that Elisabeth made no attempt to get up. So after I had rested for a bit I started spanking her some more and she took it.

I went slower this time although just as hard and really made a night of it. Then after a really long time and quite a few tears I made her lay face down on the bed while I put something on her bottom. One thing led to another and she stayed the night with me.

We were careful but the next day she could hardly move and watching her try to sit down was totally funny. Her bottom was purple for about a week, I should know because I had full and thorough encounters with it.

She still had some yellow marking when I spanked her again. I don’t remember the pretext but I spanked harder and longer if anything and so it went on for months. I don’t think her bottom was white again until after I left.

Spankville II here tomorrow.

The intro to this and another snippet can be found here.

Kimberly wrote:

I have been into spanking and the thought of being thoroughly punished for as long as I can remember but I didn’t do anything about it until last year when I was 32.

To give you some ideas of my fantasies and what preoccupies me I’ll tell you about my favourite video.

It is oriental so I don’t know the story or who made it. I downloaded it from somewhere several years ago.

A young girl is strapped face down naked from waist down on a bed with no mattress. There is a pillow or something under her hips so that her bottom sticks up and a man and a woman in uniforms shout angrily at her for a while. Then the man gets a long stiff whip thing which is a bit like a cane but longer and more swishy and starts whipping her with it. All the while the other woman is grinning and urging him on so he does it harder and harder.

The girl on the bed has really big marks on her small bottom and is screaming and crying as she begs for mercy. The first time I saw it I was horrified with myself for enjoying as it is really harsh and dark. But later on the three of them let their characters slip for a moment and the girl on the bed grins with pleasure. It actually kind of spoils it for me a bit, but I am also glad that it has that bit in it.

My own real life adventure came over a year ago when I went to a munchie. It was quite boring at first and I didn’t know anyone, but the second time I went I got invited to a party at a club.

It was quite an eye-opener and I saw girls on frames and bent over benches as well as people playing at OTK in the corner. It was exciting because it was really happening and I hadn’t seen it before, but some of it also looked kind of fake.

Then I met a guy at the bar called Terry. He was a lot older than me and asked if it was my first time. I lied and said ‘no.’

He saw through me right away and said that I deserved a sound spanking.

“Not here,” I blurted.

He nodded and we just talked. He told me he was into canes and heavier implements and didn’t like fake scenes. Rather more, he went in for the real thing and that a lot of women didn’t want that or couldn’t handle it.

I didn’t know what to say but I did tell him I wondered what a proper caning like they had in old-fashioned schools was like.

“You mean six of the best?” he asked me.

“Or more,” I said pointedly.

“I’ll give six as it is your first time. For lying,” he said from nowhere.

Part of me wanted to protest and I became shy, but he told that I should try it, but that if it wasn’t for me then we wouldn’t do it again.

I agreed and said I would come to his house if he gave me the address and he told me off. He told me I had to be careful and that I didn’t know him. It was scary and reassuring at the same time. We finally agreed to meet in a pub in Chiswick with a friend of mine who didn’t know the whole story. Only after that did we make a proper arrangement.

It took me ages to decide what to wear and I even bought new underwear and a ‘school blazer’ from Mark’s & Spencers.

He lived in Hammersmith and because I didn’t know it I was late. “That will cost you if you come again,” he said angrily as I walked in the door. The whole situation was so real and I was so nervous I felt nauseous.

Terry had an end terrace with a double glazed extension kitted out in a way that it could become a dungeon or school room and also served as his study. As soon as I arrived he made me call him Sir and after a long telling off it was surprisingly easy to take my skirt off and take my knickers down in front of him. I had to bend over an ordinary armchair which was a bit scratchy on my tummy but that didn’t concern me then.

The first of six hurt worse than anything I had ever felt and I had to try hard not to yell. It was still hurting when he gave me another and I had to hold on tight to stop myself jumping up. I was very aroused, I could smell it and all I could think of was did he know?

I couldn’t take all six and jumped up at five. There was a mirror and I saw that my eyes were watering although I wasn’t really crying as such but it was strange to see.

“Harder than you thought isn’t it?” he said.

The way he said it, it sounded as if he thought I had given up so I quickly said, “I’m sorry Sir” and bent over again.

He told me I would get an extra two strokes for getting up and I said “yes Sir” again.

The last three hurt so much I really did cry and once he let me stand up I had to hop around the room holding my bottom.

Then he asked if he should deal with lateness today or next time and I told him I would take them that day. He made me stand in the corner with my hands on my head for ages, but was probably only about 15 minutes that time. Then I had to bend over for another six.

I made such a fuss and yelled a lot and I was crying from the first stroke. But I stayed in place and took them all. I was so proud of myself.

He let me go to his bathroom to look at my bottom in the mirror. It was awful and really sore and sexy all at the same time. It was certainly hard to sit down properly even on a sofa.

We had tea and talked about my needs and he outlined a kind of mentor situation with different punishments. There was no sex between us and I saw him for about 8 months before I met my boyfriend and stopped. During that time I had lots of belts, straps, canes, birches and everything really. I used to go home on the tube standing up and feeling that soreness under my skirt and wondered if people could guess.

My boyfriend and I are looking for someone to occasionally share in my punishments or sometimes help him punish me.

An old grainy picture from just after the First World War and a bit of 60s fun.

We are almost halfway through November already and Christmas is looming fast. Where does it all go? Any minute now, well in a few days anyway, this blog will have seen its eight millionth visit. Even though traffic has been largely flat this year it has begun to pick up again. But whatever way you slice it, it is still an astonishing number for an amateur blog.

I have no idea really who comes or how many individuals that represents. Maybe it has been three or four million people coming only once! But seriously, I can say that each visitor stays an average of 30 minutes and looks at three posts each time. By looking at the cycle rates and expiry terms on browser caches, I can guesstimate that there are approximately 20-30,000 unique visitors a week and presumably a good portion of these are regulars in the round.

To put that into context, this blog is a parish magazine comparable to an international trade magazine or a small town readership. I like to think of it as the latter: Spankville, where we all live.

As I said this year growth has dipped and barely matched last year and I did wonder if this blog had peaked and everyone who was interested was already coming. This was not altogether an unpleasant thought. Using the town analogy, Spankville had matured and had survived to be a safe place to visit and live. Then lately the visits began to kick up a notch and although it is too early to say this is a new growth spurt I could not help but look for reasons.

Maybe, I thought, my stories had become too wordy and highbrow. Maybe there have been too few real life features; looking back my early days had many more. Whilst this may be true, further analysis showed that the last great growth spurt coincided with the launch of Crimson and Black, the companion blog that was launched last year and closed at the beginning of this, when growth flattened out. So in a sense A Voice in the Corner took a hit in this year’s clamp down on spanking erotica which closed so many blogs.

But that is enough about here. This week is about you. Tomorrow is Love Our Lurkers Day and you are encouraged to comment on this post and the one tomorrow to say hi.

Love Our Lurkers is an event begun and promoted by Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts, so be sure to stop by and say hi there too.

The round-up is picture heavy this week, but if you ever wondered about search terms and the road to Spankville, then Kia over at Acknowledging Imperfection has a post on Google.

Pictures this week are from: 1001, with corner time in the lift, Able’s picture blog, the group photo of bare bottoms is from Brian’s Oh My They’re Naked, the vintage college principal snap from Richard Windsor, a Girl’s Boarding School image via Spanked and Beloved, an OTK from About Spanking and a graphic found on Plector.

Are you there? Shyly peeping around the corner wondering if you can come in? Why not say hello? All you need to do is comment on this or any other post. All you need is a name (or just an initial even it doesn’t actually need to be your own) and a valid email address. For this purpose a valid email address has an @ in the middle and full point in the right place, such as ending in .com.

I strongly suggest that you do not use your own full name and if you are at all worried but want to open up a line of permanent communication open an anonymous  Yahoo or Google account in a chosen name.

Love Our Lurkers was originated at My Bottom Smarts.

Shortly before midnight on Wednesday the visits counter rolled past eight million in the web stats. Having flagged this on Monday I almost let it pass without comment, but being a little busy at the moment it came down to this bit of fluff for a post today or nothing.

‘Visits’ are such random pieces of data, but it is the only data available that dates all the way back to the launch. In any case, back in the day I used to be a web analyst and on the whole in my experience unique visitors are an unreliable quantum. Too many people use proxy serves when looking at this kind of blog and it is impossible to know how many people are behind the veil of a public proxy. Also caches clear at different rates so is a visitor really unique? What is the renewal interval? Over one year the headline is that this blog gets one million visitors, but I can’t believe they are all unique. My best guess is that this blog has a regular readership of between 20,000 and 30,000 who drop in about once a week on average. Frankly without detailed back-up analysis it is just a guide and in any case it doesn’t really matter.

Now if I haven’t bored you altogether I may as well clear-up some other housekeeping issues.

I am grateful for all comments but it is not always possible to reply in detail. Also for reasons not clear to me, some comments get blocked and others deleted randomly. I have very rarely blocked or deleted comments deliberately, less than 10 times this has happened I would guess. This is out of around 7,000 comments. But I do edit from time to time, for one reason or another.

Comments do also get published out of sequence. Especially when a post has a lot of comments, so you might find your comment halfway up the page before earlier comments? If you miss that his has happened you may think your comment has been rejected.

Also this blog is about 18+ females being spanked (M/F and F/F) in one guise or another. Comments that are outside this topic are a puzzle and usually ignored by me and I note by most other people. Posts that use ‘un-parliamentary’ language or certain references may get edited. I assume no malice or stupidity on the part of writers, but I have to be hypersensitive about what words may be picked up on by search engines.

Some people have asked for rules on this. That is fair, but how is this to be done? I can’t very well publish a list of sensitive words and phrases. So common sense is advised.

Whilst I am happy to facility adult consensual spanking in posts and in comments, the primary thrust of A Voice in the Corner is entertainment. So where spanking anecdotes, TV, movie and other news references maybe carried, it is not my intention to validate or vouch for this information.

Also I am notoriously sloppy about keeping track of sources of information. I collect things and forget them only to use them: days, weeks, months and sometimes years later. Although more recently I have got better at this. But I will credit, amend or delete content when issues arise or on reasonable request.

Sometimes I post things with good intentions and then take them down for reasons of taste, decency or common courtesy.

Thank you to all those who send me stories, anecdotes, pictures and many other things including words of encouragement. I cannot use much of what I am sent for one reason or another, but as regular readers will know, much I can post here; so thanks.

Above all I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your readership and continued support.

Last week’s Love Our Lurker’s was a huge success. All credit to Bonnie and of course you. Here is a list of participating blogs.

Another blog worth another mention is Wholebean and I by Paolo. He laments Irish narrow mindedness, but there is a lot more to read here.

Blossom and Thorn had the back story to Bettie Page with some pictures.

Rollin has a story excerpt, the picture is above.

Other pictures are from Plector, Devlin O’Neil, CutiePie, Stan’s French Au fil... (taken from Italian spanking I think) and Spanking Starlets.

Here is a set(?) found on different Tumblr’s. It isn’t clear who the artist (or artists) are but despite the differing styles two were grouped as if they might be the same. Taken together they contrast and compare the notorious medieval to 19th century traditional domestic corporal punishment with the Soviet era (note the picture of Stalin and the Babushka in the last picture).

It is probable that they originated on Deviant Art, but the couldn’t be traced to identify the artist. Anyway, enjoy and if you do know where the credit goes sing out.

Now we mustn’t panic or show any weakness whatsoever, but one month today it is Christmas day! Okay, so panic a little bit unless you are done and dusted.

Actually this may be a British thing, for instance this Thursday is Thanksgiving, which many Americans look upon as a bigger event when the whole family gathers. But if so, then you are lucky.

Christmas in Britain (which we may be forgiven for thinking is already here judging from shop displays and TV ads) lasts more or less officially from Advent (1^st December) until Twelfth Night (which is either the 6^th or the 5^th January depending on your local tradition). That’s 36 or 37 days, which when you think about it is about 10 percent of the year.

“I wish it could be Christmas every day…” goes the song, sometimes it damn well feels like it is. With the upcoming American feasts that is an awful lot of dead turkey. Goose anyone?

And so to last week…

The Spanking Spot, which has been suffering some unaddressed Trojan issues for months, has finally disappeared. We can only hope that this is a technical issue and Brushstrokes will return, but it maybe ominous.

In better news, Wholebean and I reports that Ireland has had a more positive report on the spanking scene debate.

Also Kai on Acknowledging Imperfection has a new story.

Rollin also has a new story out.

I had a nice email from Michael Thorn of Blossom and Thorn complimenting me on my work and pointing out that I am now the most featured author in their favourites section. By the way this is a good round-up of spanking stories is you are keen.

The pictures this week are a Brian Tarsis from Less Than Three blog, and two found on the blogs of Devlin O’Neil and Cherry Red.

After receiving an interesting email, more on which later, I did some research and stumbled upon this account.

According to the French writer and biographer Pidansat de Mairobert, the Marquise de Rosen, the young and beautiful close friend and rival of Madame Du Barry learned of the price of falling out with the powerful mistress of Louis XV of France.

De Rosen was a beauty to rival Du Barry but was notorious for her youthful and girlish appearance, which in this instance was to prove her downfall.

It seems that the Marquise was a lady in waiting for the princess who ‘reproved her’ for fraternising with the scandalous Madame Du Barry. Not realising where the real power lay she snubbed Du Barry who complained to the King.

Louis tried to mollify his mistress by playing up to the Marquise’s stereotype and jokingly said, “Bah, she is only a child who deserves to be whipped.”

“Seeing her chance Madame du Barry took the remark in its strict sense. One morning that Madame de Rosen came to see her, after they had breakfasted together amicably, the Marquise asked her to enter the boudoir that they might chat together in private” where in fact four maids were waiting for her.

It seems with this help Du Barry stripped and soundly spanked or whipped her. It is not clear at this point whether hands were used or a martinet or birch rod as was the practice.

“Furious with indignation she rushed off to the King, but he could say nothing to his mistress, as she reminded him that she had but executed his sentence.”

However, it seems that with her honour satisfied Du Barry made a peace offering and du Rosen took the spanking as a salutary lesson and the two once again became firm friends.

It proved difficult to find a portrait of the young de Rosen but the picture insert is a likeness of a woman of her age and station from the court.

Now it is hard for me to believe that people have been tapping their feet wondering where this week’s round-up had got to, but if anyone has then my apologies. It has been one of those weekends followed by one of those days.

Tomorrow is the next instalment of Magic – it is a biggie and takes us halfway to the climax which will follow soon. This story has been here for so long (started over two years ago) and has about three or four episodes left. So if you have been following it – then thank you, if not (and I know that it hasn’t been everyone’s cup of tea) then it will soon end.

Others may have noticed that Spankmanship was finally concluded last week, so another regular series slot has now been freed up. More on that soon.

The big news of the week is that LSF have published the Christmas collections of spanking stories. My one and only Christmas spanking story was included in last year’s collection, so nothing from me this year, but it all goes to support the Spanking Library, which is free.

Something missed from last week was Cranky Spanker’s one millionth landmark. So Congratulations.

Elsewhere: Less Than Three had a short post on the nature of responsibility versus guilt and abuse of power by the Dom. There are some cute cartoons too. My Bottom Smarts has another list of new spanking blogs, which is always welcome. Cherry Red also has a round-up like this one of favourite links if you want to have a spanking surf.

Blossom and Thorn had a post on Corner Time Noir; see black and white picture above.

Have you heard about the new mainstream movie Nymphomaniacs? Others have mentions on several blogs that it may contain a spanking scene but (apologies if others were first but I haven’t seen it elsewhere) Au Fil des Jour has an actual clip and some stills like the one above with Charlotte Gainsborough bending over the arm of a sofa. Note here the creative use of what looks like telephone directories.

Other pictures are from: Able’s Tumblr, Devlin O’Neil, Plector and Spank Brian.