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The Art of Erotic Spanking


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The Art of Erotic Spanking by Don Julian Winslow

Maledom. The connection between sex and spanking has long been understood by sexual sophisticates, and one of the by-products of sex on the internet has been a growing interest in erotic spanking. It is the internet that has had the most profound effect on people’s sexual functioning by laying bare, to present before the whole world, the many and wondrous variations of human sexual functioning. Erotic spanking is one such variation on the theme.

This compilation of short stories and vignettes, all feature erotic spanking as a common motif. All are exciting and entertaining accounts of light BDSM; tales of strong males and submissive females at play in all the variations of human sexuality, from the everyday lovemaking of men and women, to outermost fringe of the bizarre. This is the first time all Winslow’s spanking stories have been collected together in one volume.

From: The Connoisseurs. Higgins and Pickering secretly thought of themselves as artists, or more modestly as craftsmen, following their singularly unique pursuit ” the art of spanking as many female bottoms as humanly possible. For them it was more than a hobby; some would say it had become an obsession. The two old friends were bound and determined to joyfully sample each new thrill, to fully savor every single perverse delight, as they systematically explored the many variations on their peculiar theme.

As Pickering was admiring their guest’s splendid form, Higgins returned with the instruments that had been selected for today’s demonstration. Gratia saw the leather belts he held in his hands, as well as the metal ruler, a bit longer than the standard length, perhaps 15 inches she guessed. The narrow lathe strip was thin and pliable; flexible enough to be bowed ever so slightly. Higgins was now testing the ruler’s resiliency, working it between his hands while stepping around to fully appreciate the attractive call girl’s elegantly-made bottom.
His eyes remained fixed on the object of his affections while he addressed his colleague.

“Oh, yes, Pickering, she will do quite nicely. A most superb behind, first-class indeed!”

Don Julian Winslow is an internationally best-selling author, with some 20 books of erotic fiction to his credit including: The Secrets of Cheatem Manor, The Blue Butterfly, Katerina In Charge, The Pleasure Machine, Slaves of Rome.

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As Pickering was admiring their guest’s splendid form, Higgins  stepped around to fully appreciate the attractive call girl’s elegantly-made bottom.

His eyes remained fixed on the object of his affections while he addressed his colleague.

“Oh, yes, Pickering, she will do quite nicely.  A most superb behind, first-class indeed!”

Pickering grinned and nodded in sage agreement.  “Please bend over, my Dear.  Hands on your knees.  We’ll need to conduct a closer to examination.”

Without a word, the leggy brunette took up the mandated position, leaning forward from the hips with hands braced on her thighs sticking her naked rearend back most provocatively right into the faces of the two smiling connoisseurs.

The two men silently studied the beautiful ass now being presented to them, their expert’s eyes adoring the sculpted contours: of a slightly pear-shaped bottom, with sloping undercurves, that were softly rounded and met in a darkened cove.  High up between her legs a fuzzy tuft of pubic hair peeked out at them.  They noted with approval the symmetry of the richly curved domes, the narrowness of the tight crack.  This was indeed a generous bottom, a fine, full-fleshed, womanly ass.

The two conspirators looked at each other and smiled in mutual satisfaction, well pleased with the carefully selected present that Claire had sent to them.

With the preliminaries over, both men were now eager to get on with the main event.  Gratia was asked to kneel on the carpet at one end of the table, then told to lay herself down over the padded top, stretched out with arms at her sides, so that her body from shoulders to knees was supported on the table

The wide leather straps were now laid in place, one encircling the call girl’s lower back; the other looped around the upper thighs, both drawn snugly and cinched tight.

Once the girl was secured to the bench, Higgins, the ruler tucked under one arm, worked his fingers into a pair of thin leather gloves, while Pickering retreated to his favorite wing-backed chair and his waiting glass of sherry.   Once seated, he had a perfect view as his colleague knelt down next to the bench, and slid back to sit on his heels with the proffered bottom placed conveniently at his side.

Higgins was intoxicated at the heavenly prospect before him, all a-tingle with excitement; he couldn’t resist reaching out to caress the sleek contoured lines of the laid-out woman.  Placing a gloved hand on Gratia’s back, he followed down the smooth slope, over the 6” wide belt, and finally up the abrupt swells to attain the summit of those choice, delectable twin mounds.  Grabbing an overflowing handful of a fleshy cheek, he jiggled it, squeezed experimentally to test its resilency, before giving up the wobbly mound.  The cupped hand slid down the slope and beyond to the back of a thigh where he began a light stroking.  He might have been reassuring a prized mare.

Kneeling on legs that were folded under him, Higgins now settled back onto his heels, eyeing up the tempting target as he fingered the shiny metal ruler he held in his right hand.  Gripping it firmly between thumb and forefinger, he raised it a few inches, and swiftly brought the metal ruler down with a crisp slap, punctuated by a snap of the wrist.


The wicked metal ruler was slapped smartly, straight across the twin domes, splattering the fleshy mounds, and imparting a searing, one-inch wide sting that brought a yelp of shocked surprise from the pinnioned victim.  It was a tiny, high pitched yelp —  a little girl’s squeak.

THWACK!  “Yeep!”   THWACK!  “Yeep!”  THWACK! “Yeep!”  THWACK!  “Yeeeep!”  THWACK! “YeeeeEEE.OOOW!”

The crisp staccato continued, each precise whack eliciting its own tiny yelp.  These whippy smacks were not terribly severe, not much more than a rapid series of hard taps.  But they quickly became a steady drumbeat, and the repeated sting they engendered in the call girl’s substantial behind soon had the bound woman squirming in helpless agitation.  By making an effort she managed to bring her initial squeals under control so that only tight-lipped grunts were emitted that as Gratia tensed up, her buttocks tightening down, the crack narrowing into a thin slit as she tried to steel herself against the repeated slaps.

Higgins smiled to see those buttocks clenching under the quick flutter of the ruler; he just kept at it.  One he had a pattern established, the grinning disciplinarian continued on the task at hand, laying on a systematic set of strokes, first concentrating on the right cheek, then administering an equal number to its twin on the left, before alternating and peppering the writhing rump from top to bottom.  Under this unrelenting assault the hardened muscles uncoiled once again, slackened into loose mounds that soon were simply absorbing the rhythmic punishment being meted out. Higgins was totally absorbed in his task, lips tightly pressed together, and a maniacal gleam in his eye, as he kept on slapping the softened butt as though he were whipping butter.

His tied-down victim had lost all control.  She was crying out, gyrating under the restraining straps, kicking up her heels in agitated fury.  Stockinged legs flailed the air as the sharp smacks continued to rain down, methodically covering every inch of those curving surfaces till Gratia’s wobbling bottom took on an overall rosy glow.

By now, the dark-haired girl was jerking up, arching back, flinging back her hair, and openly shrieking with each stinging slap:


A high, single cry of distress, each more shrill than the last, punctuated each precisely laid on-slap of the thin, whippy ruler.

After several minutes of this pleasing diversion, Higgins paused; letting his victim recover a bit, smiling to see her furiously wiggling her ass as though trying to shake off the deep-seated sting.  He looked up to his seated colleague to find him leaning forward in this chair, holding the camera before his eyes, and snapping rapidly away.  It was gratifying to consider that pictures of Gratia’s lovely, well-chastised bottom would be archived to take an honored place along with those from other memorable performances carried out in this very same room.

Having softened up his target, the consummate connoisseur extended the pause, looked up at the camera and smiled.  He let his weapon fall to the carpet, raised his gloved hand, took a deep breath and… brought it slamming down with determined authority, to begin merrily spanking lovely Gratia’s most delightful, soft yet firm with bouncy resiliency; a splendidly womanly ass.


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