Victorian spanking

This bundle is all about bare bottoms, public spankings and pleasure and pain coming together as these Victorian virgins are spanked silly: A Passionate Surrender When runaway Else finds herself on the streets of Victorian London, she realizes they are paved with dirt, victorian spanking, not gold. This is an explicit victorian erotic romance. Contains themes of spanking, unprotected love and a woman being pushed to the limits of pleasure and pain, victorian spanking. Werner victorian spanking 19 year old Alexandria with a spanking in front of the class, she can't really understand the brand new feeling that takes over her body.

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Victorian spanking

I had always got on well with the chap — a terribly affable, dignified man, whose brother I had known at Eton. James, and he happened to mention that he was off to take up a senior post in India. Well, by the end of luncheon — and after a couple of bottles of extremmely fine claret — I had managed to land myself with a chore. Stanley was explaining how his youngest daughter, Emily, was in her penultimate year at school, and that he was having all sorts of problems arranging for a guardian to look after her during the holidays. But the next Easter: well, that was a little problematic. So yours truly — very gallantly, I felt — offered to help out. Well… that, at least, was what I thought at the time. But when the following March came, and year old Emily duly stepped down from the back of the carriage in which Foster had gone to meet her from the railway station, little was I to realise how problematic dealing with a wilful teenager was going to be. To be honest, most of the time she behaved impeccably: kept herself to herself, reading stories all day long Mr. She was tidy, pleasant and polite, and my staff liked having her round the house. I imagine she must have been more interesting company than an old buffer like me! The problem occurred on the evening that I had invited a number of former colleagues down to Devon for the weekend.

I selected the lighter of the two canes, and walked back round to my desk, pointing with the stick at one of the large, victorian spanking, red leather armchairs. And then I victorian spanking, lining the cane up against the middle of her thighs, tapping it gently, then drawing it back and cracking it forward onto her pale skin.

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We think of it as a time of buttoned-up prudery and repression -- and it was -- but loosen the corset of s England and out spills the kink. In " Pleasure Bound: Victorian Sex Rebels and the New Eroticism ," Deborah Lutz writes about the seedier side of 19th century London -- anonymous sex, flagellation brothels and spanking porn, for starters. More interesting still, she introduces us to the sexual revolutionaries of the time. These rebels got off, so to speak, on breaking taboos and challenging sexual mores -- through their work and, sometimes, their personal exploits. It is an academic read it wouldn't hurt to brush up on your Victorian art and literature beforehand with the occasional pulse-quickening passage filled with erotic descriptions of floggings or lines of sensual poetry. Like the era itself, "Pleasure Bound" is restrained and a bit of a tease. That I found myself Googling "Victorian porn" after finishing Lutz' book is both a statement about how much our world has changed, and how what fundamentally excites us remains much the same.

Victorian spanking

Since, dear Rosie, you are so interested to hear my birching and whipping experiences, I will try to recollect them as well as possible, but hope you will consider my weak state of health, and not press me to tell you too much at once. My father, you know, was the Honourable Mr. Warton, and my mother died in giving birth to myself, so that I was brought up under a nurse, and afterwards, when about seven years old, a young lady was engaged as governess to instil my juvenile mind with the rudiments of learning, preparatory to being sent to a finishing school. This lady's name was Miss Birch, and although my papa had known her father, Dr. Miss Birch was a dark lady about thirty years of age when she entered our family, very good-looking, rather large pouting mouth, set off with lovely rows of most pearly white teeth, wich , when she, smiled or said much showed to beautiful effect in contrast to her rather swarthy complexion, dark brown eyes, and thick bushy blac k arching eyebrows, her figure was well moulded and plump, and being about five feet six, she had quite a commanding presence. I was nearly eight years old before I began to notice the significant looks which occasionally passed between papa and governess, but hints were so often thrown out about the necessity of procuring a good birch rod for the naughty bottom of Lucille, that I was gradually awakened to the discovery of some most mysterious kind of understanding which must subsist between them.

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Join the discussion. Well, by the end of luncheon — and after a couple of bottles of extremmely fine claret — I had managed to land myself with a chore. This bundle is all about bare bottoms, public spankings and pleasure and pain coming together as these Victorian virgins are spanked silly: A Passionate Surrender When runaway Else finds herself on the streets of Victorian London, she realizes they are paved with dirt, not gold. So she walked across the room, faced the wall, and exposed her freshly-thrashed body. As we walked back together into the reception room, it was obvious from the faces of the assembled group that the sounds of the punishment had been clearly heard next door. I whiipped it sharply through the air twice, right in front of her, leaving neither of us in any doubt as to its relative effectiveness compared to the previous rod — which seemed quite tame in comparison. As she climbed up, I leant the cane against the desk, and reached into my dinner jacket pocket, removing the lengths of linen that the Butler had been to search out at my request, and which he had passed to me as I had left the dining room. I have to say that the sight of her, bent virtually nude over that chair, with her red thighs and just one, clear, straight line burning across her buttocks, was quite memorable. And that final blow, low down, again at the join of buttocks and thighs, with all my strength, her scream piercing the still air in the study. And, of course, I sent her new husband two presents by post, in a long box, a few days later.

Her husband, Reginald Fogarty, a Member of Parliament, was often away in London, and furthermore deemed child rearing the proper province of the fairer sex, not of men.

I wonder? She looked at me quizzically, and followed me with her eyes as I walked over to my desk, and opened the middle drawer in it. Your email address will not be published. As we walked back together into the reception room, it was obvious from the faces of the assembled group that the sounds of the punishment had been clearly heard next door. And as I do so, I want you to thank me for each stroke, do you hear me? I made her stand, of course, as we talked, and — settled in one of my comfortable leather chairs — I lectured her on the appropriate standards of behaviour for a young woman of class. I continued with the flogging, each blow being brought down across her thighs, building up a firm rhythm of strokes, pausing every ten seconds or so to receive her thanks. Author 6 books 70 followers. Previous article El Presidente. Indeed, she got married last year, and Sir Stanley invited me to the wedding: a lovely ceremony.