A sweaty blond youth under the lash

This is from “Dracula Rising”. Yeah, it’s bad. But there’s a muscular young man being whipped, so I’m not going to complain too much about the quality of the video.

I want her stockings

Enough of the super-ultra-OMG-severe canings for now; instead, I wanted to share this photo from “Spanking and Shame”.

Firstly… lovely stockings, aren’t they? (They get peeled off later in the spanking. Ah, well.) Secondly, that’s a mighty interesting angle to smack a girl from. I’ve tried this position, kneeling on the bed with my hands on the floor, but somehow the spanker always ended up behind me, not leaning over me. I’m tempted to steal the idea.

(The picture is from this free spanking gallery.)

Psychopathia Sexualis on DVD? Wha..?

Munchkins, can anybody please explain to me what in the merry hell is this film?

Surely, it can’t be what it says it is: a film of Krafft-Ebing’s “Psychopathia Sexualis”… on general release, for a mainstream audience?

The only reason I’ve ever heard of Krafft-Ebing is that he invented the terms “sadism” and “masochism”, so he’s sort of relevant. But he thought we were all perverts… or that the men were, anyway: women didn’t have any sexual feelings at all. The sheer whackiness of the idea of shooting his case-studies and releasing them on a DVD deserves some respect, even if I have no idea what they did it for. The trailer is curious: the most eclectic mix of the beautiful and the grotesque.

My feelings watching the trailer could be transcribed like this: “Oooh, pretty corset… – Eeeeww, gross, blood! – OK, he’d be into trampling then. – Corset! Pretty! Nice boots! – Ick, that’s just ugly… – Nice shot! Cool music!”
It doesn’t make me want to rush out to get the movie.

Even speaking as a girl who’s still bearing stripes from a caning endured three weeks ago, I’m a little glad there are people in the world who are ever so slightly more bizarre than me. I mean, shooting “Psychopathia Sexualis”? *shakes head*

Everything wobbles

While we’re still on the subject of ‘virgins in the war’ – or one particular virgin, Joan Wyndham – I’d like to transcribe another couple of quotes from her wartime diary.

Towards the end of the book, or just before she became too busy with her duties to find time for writing in her diary, she joined the WAAF and got sent to a training camp. The first snippet should appeal to the lovers of military PT:

…we troup into the gym for physical training. Modesty is thrown to the winds as we are drilled by male PTOs in our ‘blackouts’ – i.e. long, black service knickers, and no stockings.

All of us – long thin housemaids, huge fat cooks and outraged debutantes – hop up and down in our underwear. We are a macabre sight, everything that can shake or wobble does, and everything that can come loose, comes loose. It’s very embarrassing.

Yes, I should imagine so. Mmmm.

The next bit continues the topic of knickers, only with a twist. *g*

In the afternoon we had some free time, so Samantha washed out her knickers and put them on the line outside the hut. When she came back after tea there was a note pinned in their place saying:

‘These drawers are now the property of Aircraftman Jenkins. If you wish to reclaim them please report to hut nine at eight o’clock.’

Poor Samantha is very upset as they were her best knickers.

Flog the man, I say. Flog him!

Knickers as a Key to Happiness

I’ve just read “Love Lessons” by Joan Wyndham – a diary kept during World War II by one of the women interviewed for the documentary I talked about earlier.
My favourite entry goes like this:

Monday, 31st

Called up for WAAF – I go in a week, 7th April. All of a sudden I feel dreadfully depressed. Rowena and I went to the Galeries Lafayette and bought tarty underwear.

While wondering what counted for tarty underwear in 1941, I mused also on the healing qualities of knickers. I’ve wondered before whether this only worked for spanko girls – but no, apparently, shopping for underwear is a miracle cure for any girl.

I love the instant fix of happiness from a fresh pair of pretty underwear. I wonder if it’s common knowledge among the less liberated people than us?

They should make the underwear cure available on prescription. There should be a national billboard campaign. More people should know about this.

“Feeling blue? Buy some tarty knickers!”

Yes.