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Be Here When I Return
Right, munchkins, I’m off somewhere interesting.
I’ll give you a hint:
I’ll be back online on Tuesday, hopefully with stories to tell.
(Oh, the picture? From this free gallery.)
Spontaneous dirty talk
Speaking of Bettie Page. Have you watched “The Notorious Bettie Page”? I saw it with Mr Haze in a cinema completely filled with men. Many of them looked as though they didn’t quite want to be seen at the screening, as though this was not Odeon, but a Soho shop with a viewing booth at the back. Bless the wee innocents.
Anyway, the scene of the movie that stuck with me was when Bettie is approached by a fan who insists that he’s sure she really hates men. It isn’t a point of confrontation for him: he really wants her to confirm it. “I bet you want to humiliate me,” he says, gazing searchingly into her face. He longs to be verbally dominated - all in a vanilla, every-day atmosphere. Essentialy he attempts to draw Bettie into a role-play against her will.
I was reminded of the guys who start conversations with me with “You’re such a naughty girl, Adele.” Er, no. Unless we’re at a spanking party, or we’ve played before, or we’re at least remotely acquainted, you don’t get to tell me I’m a naughty girl.
(I do make an exception for several actors, who can phone me and tell me off whenever they like. Yes, David Tennant, I’m talking about you.)
Pornographer’s Dream
I was listening to Suzanne Vega’s new album Beauty & Crime, and there I found a song that just waited to be blogged.
Pornographer’s Dream
She’s a pornographer’s dream, he said.
I knew what he meant.
But it made me imagine: what kind of a dream
He would have, that hadn’t been spent?Would he still dream of the thigh? of the flesh upon high?
What he saw so much of?
Wouldn’t he dream of the thing that he never
Could quite get the touch of?It’s out of his hands, over his head
Out of his reach, under this real life
Hidden in veils, covered in silk
He’s dreaming of what might beBettie Page is still the rage
With her legs and leather;
She turns to tease the camera, and please us at home,
And we let her.Who’s to know what she’ll show of herself,
In what measure?
If what she reveals, or what she conceals,
Is the key to our pleasure?It’s out of our hands, over our heads
Out of our reach, under this real life
Hidden in veils, covered in silk
We’re dreaming of what might be
Apart from the fact that I would argue that the described delectable picture is a dream more likely to belong to a porn-viewer’s than a pornographer… I just love that Suzanne Vega seems to think that Bettie Page is the stuff of dreams, everything that’s right with the world of porn.
Honestly, though? Pornographers don’t, on the whole, dream of the models. At least, I don’t think they do. An enthusiast may dream of the perfect picture or movie, an enterpreneur is more likely to dream of fields heaps of gold or whatever. I guess, a model can be the subject of dreams if she’s better than anybody at making that perfect movie or great success come about.
Do mainstream film-makers dream of electric sheep actors as objects of wonder in themselves? (Unless they’re Quentin Tarantino, and have a fetish for Uma Thurman’s feet?)
Still love the song, though.
Synchronous Whipping
Better now, thanks for the good wishes, munchkins.
Have a cheesy back-whipping scene from the movie ‘Stormquest’, whatever that is about.
Despite its uber-lameness, I still got a little thrill out of the whole tying up, tearing of clothes and pained writhing thing.
Oh, and the way the executioners are throwing the whips absolutely in synch - I’d have loved to see them practice.
Pixie the Cover Girl
Well, fancy that - our own Amber Wells is on the cover of “Philly Edge” magazine, which also has a feature about spanking in general and the Punished Brats site in particular.
If I just happened to notice this cover on a news stand, I’d be reeled in like a careless trout. I like that it’s essentially vanilla-friendly cover (it has to be, this isn’t a spanking magazine or anything!), but a schoolgirl fetishist would be pulled towards it right away.
Do you know what does it for me? The fact they’re holding books. :)
Head over to Pixie’s blog to find more details and express your admiration.
The Japanese care about your spanked bottom
Dear Japanese people,
I’m so sorry. Up until now I’d assumed that, as a nation, you were not very interested in spanking. I thought you were all about pretty rope work, and cosplay, stuff like that. Maybe tentacles as well. But not really spanking.
Obviously, I was grievously wrong.
Because if you didn’t care about spanking, you wouldn’t have invented a USB-powered bum-cooling cushion.
I’m really sorry for doubting you; now I know that you’re first-class perverts after all, just like the rest of us. Good for you.
Much love,
Adele
(P.S. Thanks to Lucy McLean for sending me the link.)
Paris Hilton gets a spanking?
…well, in their dreams, anyway.
You may need to be American to get the full context - I for one have no idea who all these TV personalities are - but hey. At least one of them managed to get spanking talk onto the telly, so I don’t mind.
(Thanks to MrFox for the original link)
Dangerous Tennis Fashion
A schoolgirl can spend a while choosing her outfit for a tennis match. Shorts or skirt? Skirt or shorts? Hmmm…
Anyway. Whether she’s dressed like this…
…or like this:
…chances are, in the end she’ll look like this:
(Images taken from this free Girls Boarding School Gallery)
Rude Business Names
I was going through a stack of papers, when this advert caught my eye:
I’m puzzled.
I know what sport is.
I know what sex is.
But what’s a clusive? Is it something really, really rude?
(Reminds me of this old joke.)
Girls’ Bottoms For Dummies
Time to get our usual portion of snark. I got the following two pieces of correspondence from a very persistent young man.
First he wrote:
girls asses are great to spank
Why, I never. There’s a surprising discovery. But, having not got a response, he didn’t stop there:
ur asses are beautiful to spank i wish i was doing it to u
My asses? How many do you think I’ve got, man? Well, thanks anyway, I guess…
