Escape to Spanko Island

When winter comes, even brisk spankings aren’t enough to keep us warm all the time. I start dreaming of tropical islands, and one in particular. It’s a hilly, magical getaway where we supposed ‘weirdos’ can always be ourselves.  

I can’t share the coordinates of this top-secret paradise, but it’s quite remote, not yet visible on any existing maps. One must traverse and survive the roughest of seas to arrive at Spanko Island. Many pirates seeking booty have met their doom along the way, lost to watery graves.

But once you arrive, it’s quite nice! The island is unmistakeable, characterized by its majestic twin mountains capped with a pinkish hue. Many a weary sailor has broken down in tears at the sight of it, finally home once more. The scenery’s beauty is unmatched globally and local customs are designed to accommodate that thing we like.

The appeal of Spanko Island is that we can spank wherever, whenever. No one there will think you’re crazy for wanting pinkened cheeks. There’s no need to keep it down or cover bruises on the beach. It’s all perfectly normal to find mischief of this sort and celebrate in this way, for the island’s mountain cheeks sit upon layers of rock and crystals that channel the spirit of Fanny, the local culture’s spanko deity.

The island is dotted with statues of this goddess’ big-bottomed likeness. Ceremonies of worship are compulsory in the evenings as the sun sets and her image fills the sky. Revelers gaze in awe, able to see the cosmic, callipygian dance at work beyond the veil of reality. Life-altering spiritual awakenings are commonplace. 

It's a lot like this. (Prints are available here!)

Outside of worship and soul-elevating kink, guests to Spanko Island are welcome to enjoy a variety of splendid activities. There are book clubs, tea parties, classes where pink bottoms are painted, ping-pong games featuring eye-catching paddles, and water skiing teams.

Local residents of idyllic tropical destinations often suffer due to misbehavior from globe-trotting tourists on holiday. They disrespect local customs. They prance around with entitlement. They drink a wee too much and end up brawling on the beach. Such behaviors aren’t a problem at Spanko Island, however, for paddle-wielding tops peruse the premises. They have the authority to spank anyone acting out of line, right out in the open under the watchful eyes of Fanny.

Benches, stools, and straight-backed chairs are easily found around the island and one can frequently observe naughty behavior being corrected. It’s rather embarrassing to get spanked in front of others on vacation, but rules are rules and must be followed. That’s simply how things are run.  

Sadly, we travelers can’t spend all our time on Spanko Island. It’s a small place, cabin fever is real, and the human soul yearns for fresh adventures. People come and go, returning home with tanned bottoms and stories of friendship. But without fail, paradise calls to us once more, pulling us back to our top-secret shangri-la.

-T