Saturday Sit-Spank — June 24th

Ah, summer—the bees are buzzing, the flowers are blooming, and the canes are snapping across bare buns. Ahh…

Today I offer, for your enjoyment, a scene from Margaret and the Train Robbers. This is a Victorian mystery series featuring my lady detective Margaret Rowan. Here, Margaret has found her man, but must trick him into revealing where the gold is hidden. She plays to his, uh, basic needs…


I hand him back the snifter. “Y-yes, you did!” I stroke his cheek. Then, returning my mind to my task I tease, “I guess, I must believe you about the other thing as well.”

“What other thing?” he asks, standing back with his battering ram cock still at the ready.

“The gold thing – that you are indeed a gold thief.”

“Oh, yes.” He climbs on top of me. Pushing my legs wide, to reopen my womanhood, he positions his huge tool at my dripping entrance. “And, after I cane your blushing fanny, I will prove that to you as well.”

He then slides his manhood deep within me, and fucks me – hard and fast. A minute later, he groans an animal sound and the paroxysm again consumes me. My channel grips his cock as though a vice and his thrusts now begin to rock my whole body violently to and fro. When my composure returns, and I regain the use of my voice, I beg, “Please sir, command your mammoth cock to fill me with its seed – NOW!” He groans again. His pulsating weapon stretches me as it complies with my request, bursting forth his warm seed to fill me.

After allowing me a half hour and another snifter of brandy to regain my composure, he positions me draped over the foot rail of the bed. He retrieves his cane and toys with me as he swishes it through the air, and then teasingly taps my bottom several times with it.

“Please, sir, while you may do what you wish, your humble servant begs that you consider a different implement to punish her.” I try one last time to forego the pain of his cane, though I know that I must endure whatever he presents to encourage him to show me the gold.

“Not today, my dearest Marge. I’ve waited too long for this pleasure.” Lady Barnet had cheated him of his last attempt to cane me.

The first CRACK is surely the worst and I scream for the second time since entering his bedroom. I hold my position and remain silent – gripping the bed sheet – through the following burning hot five CRACKS of the cane upon my soft fanny. When he finishes, he stands me nude before the mirror and while tears stream down my face I examine the welted stripes across my swollen butt – six evenly spaced parallel lines.

“My best work, I do believe,” he says, pinching my fanny’s left cheek while admiring his artwork.



To enjoy more of Margaret and the Train Robbers, check out this Amazon link. For other book in the Lady Detective series check out these:



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Saturday Sit-Spank — June 17th

For this Saturday Spanking I want to present the plight of a Union spy in London. In The Counterfeit Confederate, Emily is from a Northern family; her father is a general. Thus, Lincoln found her to be the perfect spy to infiltrate the Confederate scientist laboratory in London. However, before she can learn the secrets of the South’s new weapon, she must first cross the Atlantic. Aboard Britain’s Great Eastern, she runs afoul of English rules and straight into the hands of Lt. Anderson. Will she learn of the meaning a proper spanking?


“Emily, sir,” I say in response to Captain Harrison’s inquiry, “my name is Emily Tidwell.”

“Young lady,” the captain ignores my name, “you are a second class passenger and are thus required to remain in those assigned areas. You are not to enter the crew areas of the ship again. Furthermore, you are an unmarried female and are not permitted to wander about where men are present. Lieutenant Anderson,” the captain proclaims to the officer beside him, “order in the second class cabin is your responsibility so I leave you to deal with this incident as you see fit. However, as the young lady is an American and not born to our English sense of order and discipline… and as this is her first offence you have my permission to tread lightly though I do insist that you dispense with the matter here and now.”

Lieutenant Anderson is about ten years my senior, tall, clean-shaven and extremely handsome. Also in the day cabin are another officer and the mate who found me. Never taking his eyes away from me, Lieutenant Anderson clears the chart table and waves his hand over it. Not understanding the meaning of his gesture, I don’t move and soon he grips a significant bundle of my frock’s material from the small of my back and with his strength he easily hoists my torso and hips up onto the chart table such that I am face down with my feet dangling above the deck.

He then proceeds to spank my bottom with his bare hand!

While Mother, a daughter of a traditional French family, had never been one to spare the rod with Lilly and me, it was during the year we spent in London that my Father took up the responsibility for our discipline. When I was twelve years old he had been assigned as a Naval Attaché for the American Consulate in London. Father had many conferences with English naval officers and he had learned, that naughty insolent children – most specifically girls – were not to be tolerated. Additionally, respectable fathers of such children were those men that took these matters under their own hand.

While I am not now a child aboard this ship, I am an unescorted female and thus during my tenure aboard Lieutenant Anderson is the male responsible for my behavior.

While he ‘tread lightly’ in so much as he does not raise my skirt, but merely spanks me through its material, he does not withhold the intensity of his smacks. For the duration of this painful ordeal I yearn to have my petticoats. To the entertainment of the other men I kick and scream through the first ten smacks.

“Sir,” I squeal, “I have learned my lesson…  please stop!”

Then I remember that I would not be an English disciplined girl until I take the punishment without resistance or exclamation. Therefore as I had been taught during my last journey to London, I grit my teeth and cross my ankles to still my feet. Lieutenant

Anderson gives me five more of his firmest whacks before he gives my left bottom cheek a final squeeze through the thin material of my skirt and drawers alone. The heat from his hand further inflames my bottom and my skin blushes from head to toe.


In The Counterfeit Confederate, Emily’s adventures are far from over. Her relationship with Lt. Anderson is also far from over. This spanking spy story is fresh from the pages of history and is available from:


Barns & Noble,

Blushing Books


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Her Alien Doctor

The talented Sara Fields is in the house today. She has been on the spanking scene for many years, and has experienced all different types of spankings, from sensual, to fun, to punishments, including all of the implements she writes about!  She has penned many books, but I want to discuss her recent SciFi spanking romance — Her Alien Doctor.

In this book, nineteen-year-old Jenny Monroe is caught stealing from the home of a powerful politician, she is sent to a special prison in deep space to be trained for her future role as an alien’s bride.

Despite the public bare-bottom spanking she receives upon her arrival at the detention center, Jenny remains defiant, and before long she earns herself a trip to the notorious medical wing of the facility. Once there, Jenny quickly discovers that a sore bottom will now be the least of her worries, and soon enough she is naked, restrained, and shamefully on display as three stern, handsome alien doctors examine and correct her in the most humiliating ways imaginable.

The doctors are experts in the treatment of naughty young women, and as Jenny is brought ever closer to the edge of a shattering climax only to be denied again and again, she finds herself begging to be taken in any way they please. But will her captors be content to give Jenny up once her punishment is over, or will they decide to make her their own and master her completely?

Publisher’s Note: Her Alien Doctors is the second book in the Captive Brides series. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

For a teasing excerpt, let’s examine a scene where the naughty Jenny has tested the boundaries, and found them to be firm. Hmm…


“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to start out on the wrong foot, but I can see you’re going to need a firmer hand than most of our patients here. Now, where could you have hidden the rest of the implements?” His gaze focused back on her.

She shrugged and turned away, refusing to meet his questioning eyes. Feeling his presence move closer, she shivered and held her breath. His hand reached out and gently, yet firmly, grasped her upper forearm, forcing her to stand. With his other arm, he lifted the mattress, revealing the rest of the implements she had hidden there. Swallowing nervously, she peeked up to see his expression and quickly looked away when she saw his stern disappointment.

“Now, that’s awfully naughty for a young lady like you to do, hmmm?” He picked up each one up and returned them to the drawer, each one making a loud and awful sound as it dropped down onto the wooden bottom. Chewing at her lip, she nervously waited for whatever was to happen next.

She watched anxiously as he righted the mattress and put it back into place. His hands reached back into the drawer and pulled out the brown leather paddle and tossed it on the bed. In a whirlwind of movement, he sat down on the bed and threw her over his lap. In a fraction of a second, her nightgown was pushed up to the small of her back and her panty-clad bottom was in his full view.

“No! You can’t do this,” she exclaimed, growing angrier with each passing moment. She reached back and tried to cover herself with her hand, but that only resulted in him capturing her wrist within his broad fingers. “No! Stop it! You can’t spank me, you… you asshole!”

“Such language. Sean isn’t going to like that. I suggest you learn to curb your tongue unless you want to be punished frequently.”

She jumped when his warm fingers caressed the curve of her lower backside, almost like an unspoken promise that they were about to cause pain to the sensitive skin back there.

“Your file indicates that you’ve been spanked quite a few times since your arrival, isn’t that right, Jenny?”

“Whatever, just get it over with,” she huffed with false bravado. She glared at the floor as her annoyance grew to higher levels. As usual, she could feel her traitorous body responding to the idea of discipline, something she had noticed the very first time she’d been punished by one of the guards.

Her breathing deepened as she pressed her thighs closer together, sensing the wetness that was already gathering there. The first time that happened, she thought it had been just a fluke, but when it happened a second and third time, she knew that something was wrong with her. Spankings were supposed to deter her from behaving badly, but instead her body seemed to desire them, even crave them. She felt so ashamed of herself.

As his fingers lay calmly against her skin, she couldn’t help but moan softly in anticipation. Her bottom cheeks tingled, knowing that her pale white skin was soon to turn a cherry red. His palm patted gently a few times on each side and she stiffened, held tight against his thighs. She was distinctly aware of just how large his hand was as it cupped her ass, noting that it seemed to cover one entire side all by itself.

“Please don’t,” she begged, her voice much softer than before.

“All you have to do is behave, Jenny, and you’ll be able to avoid punishments such as the one you are about to receive. A spanking will be good for your attitude and your well-being. You must accept that you are no longer in charge. Now, no more arguing. It’s time for your first punishment under my care.”

Her whole body tensed when his warm palm left her skin. The first spank seemed to echo loudly off the walls and by the time the second one sounded, she felt the sting hit her at last and she shrieked.

“Ouch!” she cried out. “I’ll be good, I promise!”


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