Spanking Blog has some thoughts on the contrast between the dominant warrior males in one of Sharon Green’s fantasy worlds versus the ones in John Norman’s Gor:

One can imagine real women finding these guys attractive, and willingly hanging out with them. (As opposed to those Gorean bastards. How did they ever get any sleep? You make one mistake, just one, with the binding fiber, and with all those weapons around it’s testicles on the floor, baby. That’s gotta happen eventually, it’s just a matter of waiting for it.)

Indeed.

Here’s a funny flash site where you can dress and undress this representative of the Unholy Army of Catholic Schoolgirls:

Thanks to Spanking Blog for the link.

A while back ErosBlog linked to, and ridiculed, an alleged list of Rules For My Slave Girls. Now SpankBoss has posted a far more realistic sounding list of rules he found floating around somewhere:

1. I will not hum the theme from Jeopardy while Master decides which implement to spank me with.
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6. Master does NOT hog the bed.
7. I will not refer to Master’s kitty as “snake food.”
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14. I will not chew my collar.
15. I will not giggle during paddlings.
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20. I will not make shadow puppets in the candlelight while Master is tying me up.
21. I will not critique how Master ties me up.
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23. I will not go out-of-state when borrowing Master’s car during lunch.
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29. It is unlikely that Master pushed all the covers onto my side of the bed so he could shiver all night.
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48. I will not hoot with laughter when Master accidentally whacks himself on the back of the head with the flogger.

Now that sounds like a happy, if kinky, relationship. The rest are mostly just as fun, and funny, so go read ’em.

Quite a long time back Erosblog linked to Sticky Kitty’s explanation of why she liked being spanked. Now SpankBoss (who is blogging up a storm over at the new and prolific Spanking Blog) explains the spanker perspective, or his anyway:

Why spanking? It’s hard to be successfully introspective about the things that make us hot. But if you’ll accept an armchair-psychology self-analysis, I think it’s a power-and-revenge thing. But that sounds…well, not worse, but perhaps more important, than it should? It’s no big deal. Rather, like most mild fetishes, it’s more of a vestigial thing, a left-over artifact of a bad adolescent decade. Like most guys who aren’t jocks or hunks, I was pretty frustrated as a young man, and got told “no” a lot, or (worse) ignored. Spanking a woman (in fantasy, against her will; in reality, with her consent) amounts to a spot of harmless payback. It’s sexually hot because when a woman is being spanked, she is, literally and symbolically speaking, in no position to say “no.” If she could (in fantasy), or would (in reality), it would have happened already. I guess you could say spanking liberates my inner mustache-twirling dastardly villain. All in good dirty fun of course.

Spanking Blog has a newspaper report of a domestic violence situation from 100 years ago. According to her lawyer:

“Mr. Edyk was celebrating Independence Day and came home feeling happy. Mrs Edyk remonstrated him because of his hilarity. At bedtime just after completing her nightly prayers and about to get into bed, she felt obligated to remonstrate him again about the evils of alcohol. Mr. Edyk then picked her up, sat on the edge of the bed and laying her face down across his lap began spanking in the old fashion way. The spanking was not severe but humiliating. Mrs Edyk had not been spanked in the old fashion was since she was a schoolgirl of seventeen.”

Here’s how it came out.

It’s been a busy weekend at ErosBlog headquarters, which explains the dearth of blog entries:

As you can see from the picture, the ErosBlog pre-Thanksgiving party got a little wild. What with one thing and another, production suffered. (Bacchus, on the other hand, did not suffer.)

The hard working staff nymphs who do much of the work around here put down their tools and loudly demanded quality time with Bacchus. Attempts were made to restore order, brisk spankings were delivered, and stern admonitions were made…all to no avail. The nymphs would not be denied, and in the end, the bacchanalia could not be averted.

If you believe all that, you have a promising future in Arizona oceanfront real estate. This much only is true: your humble scribe did in fact go for a pleasant hike with an actual unattached and not-obviously-crazy woman.