An Illustration from The Memoirs of Dolly Morton In a quaint little house decked with garlands and cheer, Lived a Brat who’d been naughty since this time last year. She wiggled and giggled with sneaky delight, For Christmas was coming… tomorrow! Tonight! Her Spanker had wrapped up her presents with care, Tucked them snugly beneath the twinkling tree there. He warned her each day with a stern, threatening plea: “Don’t peek at your gifts until Christmas, hear me?” But Brats wil

A piece by contemporary British spanking artist J. Tesker

A 1920s piece by German artist Helga Bode After a festive outing last weekend, my play partner brought me home and spanked the dickens out of me. He began with his hand as usual, then utilized several wooden paddles throughout the process to subdue me. It was a painful battle. I squirmed and tried to escape to no avail, for he is strong. He held me down, tighter and tighter until I couldn’t move an inch, and delivered a hard procession of swats that rang throughout the house.

Another piece by Louis Malteste

A 1793 print by Isaac Cruikshank, courtesy of the British Museum Every time we kinksters mention “Spanksgiving,” I imagine a voluptuous spankee crawling inside a hollowed-out turkey to play the role of STUFFING, leaving their big bare bottom sticking out the back for holiday revelers to pinken as they eat.  But that is… perhaps… just my pervy interpretation. 🦃 👀 In truth, this fine day is all about gratitude. We’re urged to reflect on what makes us feel spankful —thankful f

From the 1752 British Cartoon Prints Collection

Le Rêve D'un Flagellant by Georges Topfer, 1921 The spanko community tends to romanticize morning sessions. We’ve all seen porny videos of lazy spankees getting dragged out of bed and punished hard for sleeping in, groggy and half asleep. Those of us who struggle to get up before noon think, “Perhaps I need that in my life. Someone to help me start the day on a productive foot.” Quaintly ambitious, no? I Am Woman, Hear Me Snoar I probably shouldn’t type this out loud for the

I’ve always been captivated by artistic depictions of spankings. They allow us to view snapshots of excitement in another spanko’s imagination and soak in the emotions portrayed there from a completely different place, time, and mindset. While modern spanking art is certainly glorious and relatable, it’s the historical pieces that really get my gears turning. They remind me that people have been into This Thing We Do forever and get me wondering about every sexy spanking that

From the Marquis de Sade novel Justine, or The Misfortunes of Virtue When I was younger and still in the kink closet, I wanted so badly to meet other spankos—not just for potential playtime, but for friendship too. I had kinky people around me, but none who felt the way I did about spanking in particular.   I’m happy to say that dream came true once I got brave enough to own my fetish fully. These days, I’m lucky to have plenty of lovely spanko connections, which has improved

Illustration by Georges Topfer When you fall on the more masochistic end of the spectrum, it becomes apparent that some kinky sessions hurt more than others. One day, you’re zoning out during a spanking in a fluffy cloud of tranquility, able to take whatever’s dished out. The next, you’re squirming, fighting back, and running for your life, shocked by how sensitive you’ve suddenly become. My fellow subby/switchy types, you’re not imagining things. Pain tolerance fluctuates fr