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Tuesday, November 30, 2010

High/Low Captions #2

Connoisseurs of the adult blogosphere know that the captioned photograph is a popular theme. (Or is that "meme"?) I've often enjoyed captioned photos as a reader and would like to incorporate them more into Ecce Spanko. But I'm so indecisive. As I look at any given photo, I can't decide whether to try to be poetic or cheeky. So I'll hedge my bets and hope that you'll enjoy at least one of my takes on each image.

Do you smile to tempt a lover, or because you're at her doorstep?
She's clearly an art lover--and with good taste.
When you put like that, it really does look like a self-portrait.
(If you don't get this joke, please google "mona lisa da vinci portrait")

In employ of a tyrant—and loving it.
I'll teach you never again to forget my mint at turndown!

Down the savannah, through the brush, and into the valley:
digital exploration by manual means.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who needs help finding it.


Thursday, November 25, 2010

Be Thankful and Spankful

Harvest feast, bird flees—
Kinkiest part of my week?
TSA pat-down.

I wanted to wish all of my readers and everyone else out there a Happy Thanksgiving! For those not familiar with this American holiday, it is a day to convene with family and friends to celebrate over a meal all that we are grateful for.  While I will not say so at our dinner table, one thing that I'm definitely thankful for this year is all the wonderful readers of my blog.  So thank you, merci, grazie, xièxie, gracias, asante, danke, arigatō, shukran, dzięki, obrigado, tapadh leat, and all the rest.  You all truly mean the world to me.

Ecce Spanko is on autopilot this week as I am away from home.  Rest assured I will address all comments and e-mails upon my return.  Given that this holiday has become (for better or worse) as much about the food as about the thanks, and since I don't have much new content for you this week, you might want to check out my posts last month on "Cooking Lessons" (Parts 1, 2, and 3). Bon appetit!

  • Photo of Emeril Lagasse acquired from Google Images.  Photo of spanked lady courtesy of BritSpank.  Composition by Dioneo Daspanca.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Shades of Subtlety

a pic-and-prose poem

"Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety"
William Shakespeare, King Henry VI, Part II (III.1)

Sometimes subtlety works.
Merely dawn the right outfit
And the right face--
That of an angel wearing a sin.

At times it takes but to show him the prize,
To let the caress of dusk lead his eyes,
And leave him no doubt in what you seek,
With your defiant lips and vicious gaze.

Or you might have to lure him in
With a savory hors d'oeuvre,
And hope that you can steer his appetite
Toward your hunger.

Or capture him at his least guarded,
Impaling him with irises,
And sweetly hinting
For your prisoner to play the warden.

When he won't take the bait,
Be a brat, silly and childish,
Until he reaches the end of his rope
And reaches to rope your end.

Or, if you prefer, be a smart-alec brat,
Correct his logic and recall of history,
And be sure to laugh at his errors
Until he takes you to school.

But sometimes he's dense.
Then dispense with subtlety,
Bring him his tools,
And just ask for a fix.

And when all else fails,
Wear your most obscene,
Close your shades,
And cook your own meal.


Friday, November 19, 2010

Friday Flash Fiction: Risk

"Drink," Laura ordered her tremulous lover. Stasia brought the bottle to her lips for a calming sip. Laura then lifted her leg.  "Now eat."

With a glance down the hallway, Stasia knelt before the well scavenged banquet. Laura lit her Parliament as she felt a familiar tongue glide across her lips. A thudding above roused their attention and soon took shape as footsteps. Stasia looked up with petrified eyes. "Please..." Laura only smiled, firmly returned Stasia's head to its place, and took another drag. For Laura, without the threat, there is no thrill. The rush of risk and papillae caress set ablaze her blood.

"Hurry," Laura commanded as the deep echo of the steps swelled.  Stasia's tongue desperately hastened.  As the metronome continued, she could feel Laura edging closer.  Suddenly the stairs creaked and Laura shrieked, drowning her gasping mate.  In the detached silence that followed, Laura drew her lover up, covered her face in smoke, and kissed her deeply, enjoying the nicotine blended with her juices.  Only in breaking their kiss did they see the blue-uniformed man approach.


"Just what do you think you're doing?"

The girls froze, their skin blushed and mouths agape, unable to reply to the cop.  The stern officer continued,

"Don't you know that smoking is prohibited in this building?  Extinguish your cigarette immediately."

Laura grabbed the bottle and dropped her cigarette into the wine.

"Okay then, have a nice evening," the officer said, then turned and continued his patrol.

(Click for details on FFF)
Here was this week's prompt:
Your challenge for this Friday, 11-19-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 150-180 words. Your required phrase to use in your submission: "...the stairs creaked..."
  • Image courtesy of Sephani Paige, original source unknown.
  • The word "tremulous" courtesy of Barely Pink, origin unknown.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Ekphrassis 6 (Saffi)

What do you hope to find in those books?  Will they explain these desires? You already know what they say, you heady, scholastic fool.  They see fetish as a perversion of fear and speculate on past abuse.  They tell you that you're just building a shell of arousal in which to recoil and hide from demons.  They tell you that you want to be over my lap only because your father never showed you love, that you want to give up control only out of fear of making poor decisions.

But they know little of you.  They haven't seen the smile that you struggle to suppress when you learn that you're going to be spanked.  They can't see your lips tighten--that pucker of resistance--as you fruitlessly try to act remorseful when I inform you of my grievance.  They don't catch a glimpse of that smile breaking through as you turn away from me and head to your place in the corner.  And they don't see the glow in your skin when, northern cheeks damp and southern ablaze, you nestle your head along my neck as I cradle you in my arms.  I care not what the books say about it.  To me, there is nothing deeper than desire.

And why this insatiable curiosity about it all?  If knowledge is power, then why strive to learn about your submission?  You already know your place.  You can go earn a doctorate, yet you will still be standing before me at night in your pajamas, the bottoms at your knees.  You can give lectures, but you will still get them.  You can amaze audiences with your logic and rhetoric, but you will still blubber unintelligibly over my knee.  They might even call you a genius, but you will still call me "Sir."  At the end of the day, no matter how much you learn, you'll still be standing in the corner like a naughty dunce for as long as my unscientific judgment dictates.  So why this irrational drive to rationalize?

Alas, I know you.  You'll take orders from me, but not counsel.  You're at your most stubborn, Saffi, in pursuit of wisdom.  Well come then, my love, and let me teach you another lesson.

Photo by Phillip Greenspun, via The Fury of Beautiful Bones.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Duty and passion...

Duty and passion...
Intersection non-empty,
Yet holds not the blog.

Oh, my lovely, patient readers.  Have I disappointed thee?  I'm sure I have, though I surely don't mean to do so.  I keep thinking that with just one more day, I will have time to finish some posts.  Yet life and blogging at times make war.  And life has the louder army.  But I will return soon.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Drink to Pink!

Congratulations to Barely Pink and her blog the Pink Report for winning the Spanking Bloggers Network Blog of the Month!

Photo by Narcis Virgiliu, via Art or Porn.  Colorized by Dioneo Daspanca.