Doesn’t time fly when you are having fun? Of course when one is under sanction it tends to drag.

Now I have heard of spanking being fun (for the recipient I mean) but mostly, for the women I know anyway, it is just a necessary evil and need that must be met when misbehaviour dictates thus.

Corner time for submissives, rarely fun exactly at the best of times (except for moi Lol), definitely falls under that category. Quite literally real corner time can be a real drag.

Now in one of my sorties into Flickr, Facebook, Twitter etc, etc (the real people end of the Internet – well you know what I mean) I have stumbled upon many, many actual spanking relationships of all kinds and I have been surprised at how many young women fess up to the world and put actual ‘I have been a bad girl and sent to the corner’ pictures up.

Of course many of these are girlfriends of toppy boyfriends and one suspects a good many are drawing on BDSM games, but others have been snapped by siblings, buddies and the aforesaid partners for the purposes of shame and the like.

So to this end I have collected a short season of these images which have been added to others sent in by Kate and Sam and will be publishing them over two or three posts. I cannot vouch for them all as being genuine and no doubt some wag will brake cover and suggest some are not genuine or are movie stills and that is fine. Ultimately an evocative image is an end in itself and I only publish them in this spirit and because they have that real feel to them.

Enjoy.

See this post.

See this post.

When Siobhan was 18, by her own admission she rather immaturely teased a young man at her college. It was all she could think of to get his attention. This was back in the 1980s but she still remembers it vividly. He was a big rugby sort and not one of the intellectuals and politicos she normally hung out with.

He responded to her bratty attitude by threaten her with a spanking. Of course she was embarrassed, so much so that she redoubled her efforts at provoking him to cover this embarrassment. She doesn’t recall what she said exactly, but one might imagine that she told him that he wouldn’t dare.

He then proceeded to put her across his knee and spank her in front of everyone on the seat of her jeans. It hurt she says and she was utterly mortified especially when she couldn’t pretend that it didn’t and had to plead and apologise to make him stop.

She fled the scene red-faced and confused with everyone laughing at her.

But the strange thing was that the whole episode was sexually arousing for her, even the humiliation; something that completely confused her given the climate of that time. She remembers standing in front of the mirror and looking at the redness on her bottom.

It began a lifelong interest or even obsession in being spanked and spanking scenes, but even at the time she got a thrill form being teased about it and even loved to tell people who hadn’t been there as she feigned horror.

A similar confusion, although less openly admitted, beset a good friend of my girlfriend in college, also during the 1980s. The rumours about this girl were that she was terrified of her mother and the more creative speculation was that she was still spanked. My girlfriend even hinted as much but wouldn’t be drawn on the issue.

Both girls went to France for a few months to study and whilst there this girl in question got a spanking similar to the one above after teasing a French boy.

My GF and her gang were impressed at the way she became utterly submissive and apologetic during and after this event. Whilst being asked by the more sympathetic girls if she was alright apparently the girl let slip that she ‘always felt shy afterwards.’

Always; were the rumours true then?

Who knows if she retained any spanking interest but she, like Siobhan, remained good friends with her spanker. But her alleged use of the word ‘shy’ chimes with this account pulled from Collarme:

We weren’t really punished growing up but when I went to live with my older sister in my first year of college she sometimes spanked me in a kind of semi-serious jokey way. I even got it on the bare bum a couple of times coming out of the bath and stuff. I always felt a kind of thrill but it certainly worked on me because instead of giving my sister a hard time I always became sort of shy.

There was this one time this happened with some friends there. I teased my sister a bit too much and she chased me around the house and ended up spanking me on my knickers in the back room where the others could see. This was the worst spanking I ever got from her and she really made it count. She actually spanked me long and hard enough so that even when she made me face the wall I did as I was told.

It was so embarrassing and I was teased mercilessly afterwards, but all the while it was happening and long afterwards I felt squirmy, shy, comfortably meek and a whole mix of emotions. I don’t think I was made a spanko from this, but I think I began to find out that I found out I was.

These accounts are all very compelling and lived in the imagination with every hint of such things when growing up. Such ideas are the building blocks and fuel for some of the stories here and to understand them is to understand the nature of the submissive.

Someone dropped me a quick line to say they hated cornertime almost as much as getting a spanking, but that both were so good for her. Previously someone had written that they did not know what was worse cornertime when you were the centre of attention of standing int the corner and being completely ignored.

On the same theme I cobbled this off FemFirst:

When I tol;d my boyfriend I was still getting cornertime well into college no matter who was present he laughed. He liked the idea so much that now before and after a spanking I get cornertime. Cornertime is a bitch. Me and my big mouth.

There are many faces of cornertime, apart from the face into the wall or corner that is. The pictures above represent just four.

Firstly we have a misery shared. Has any girl reading this ever had cornertime shared with a friend or two? I wonder if it is more embarrassing or less.

Secondly there is the shame of public cornertime and being completely ignored.

Then there is the cornertime that drags. A common enough complaint. A contributor here once claimed she was put in he corner for eight hours for telling lies.

Finally we have the utter shame of being there at all.

I had this email from Karen and with her permission I thought I would post it. It has been edited down to make narrative sense and I have removed some of the extensive enthusiastic discussion of my blog and where it got more personal.

Dear Sir,

I hope this is not too creepy but I wanted to say how much I enjoyed your blog. I have been fascinated by all things spanking for as long as I can remember and blogs such as yours make me feel normal.

I like your stories with embarrassing corner time and grown-up women who finally get what they deserve, but in particular I like the way you explore the ‘love it-hate it’ dilemma that goes on in a girl’s head. Punishment for me is very much what I sincerely need and not at all what I want.

I once read on another blog I think about a woman who said she loved the idea of being punished and she really loved having been punished, but that the punishment itself was always horrible and if it wasn’t then it didn’t work for her. Your stories very much capture this.

What prompted me to finally write was your short feature on actual corner time a while back. I love the idea of real women getting punished like this and I think it is more believable that they are because I was punished this way in my late teens and early 20s. Not with the family but while I was living with two girls and an older guy.

It began after I left home and went to work in London. I moved into a shared house but they were all a bit older than me and I had trouble adjusting to sharing a space with adults. I had a real bust-up with Rachel, one of the older girls. She was 23 and at 19 I thought she was so grown-up. So I was really embarrassed when she called me a brat and she told the Tom, the 30-year-old guy who owned the house, that he should sort me out or get rid of me. I think now she was a bit of a bitch but back then I felt about a foot tall.

He said something like ‘what do you want me to do, spank her?’

I just melted into a puddle of blushing shame and everyone noticed. They didn’t spank me, but I might have gone along with it I suspect, but after a few drinks we got talking about penalties for not washing-up, leaving laundry and the like.

Tom said that I wasn’t the only one and Patricia, the other girl who was only two years older agreed that she was sloppy too. Not as bad as me though. To smooth things over we agreed a list of rules and somehow the idea came up that the offending girl should have to stand in the corner whenever she broke them.

Patricia thought this was hilarious and we agreed that a simple offence would be half an hour and for repeats and multiple offences it would go up in half hour increments. The kicker was that Tom said Rachel would also have to accept the penalties too. I think he thought that this would kill the idea as he didn’t seem very comfortable with it all at first. But Rachel, because she was so perfect, agreed.

None of us thought it come to anything but about a day later Patricia forgot to do the dishes. She just kept apologising and then to everyone’s surprise she said ‘half an hour wasn’t it? Is someone going to time it or shall I use an alarm clock.’ Then she actually went to the corner and faced the wall.

There was something strangely exciting about it and I just sat in a chair watching her fantasising about spanking and what if we had made that a penalty too. I have to say it worked though. I was terrified of messing up or pushing anyone’s buttons and made an extra effort. But it was fun knowing that something could happen, I just didn’t want it to. Like I said it is I wanted it but didn’t want it.

A few days later Patricia forgot to put the rubbish out and this time had a whole hour in the corner. This made the whole thing stick.

I didn’t get mine for another week. I left some clothes in the bathroom sink. I was so embarrassed but I had a tingle in my tummy as a gleeful Rachel and Patricia led me to the corner. I was scared, as I say really embarrassed, but I was buzzing.

It worked for me though. I tried hard not to get it and pretty soon Patricia was the main offender and Rachel and I got on much better. Patricia once got a whole Saturday afternoon in the corner after throwing up drunk and not cleaning up. I absolutely loved it. The most I ever had was an hour.

Best of all was when Rachel left some toast under the grill and went to work early. We were awoken by the fire alarm and I had never seen Tom so pissed off.

At first Rachel refused to go to the corner and we had a row, but I know Patricia said something and so did Tom. So finally she agreed.

Unlike Patricia she didn’t make a joke of it and she hated it, especially when Tom told it should an hour as it was so dangerous. I wish I had taken a photo it was priceless and Rachel looked so humble in that corner.

I had fantasies about Tom spanking her or sometimes me, for weeks afterwards and it is still a go to memory.

All this happened in the early 90s and these days I am happily married. My husband spanked me a lot when we first got married and yes there was corner time. I expect you would love to know more about that – maybe another time.

I am still spanked but there less corner time now that we have kids. I can see it now, ‘mum why are you standing there?’ We don’t punish the kids like this and they wouldn’t understand.

Thanks again,

Yours faithfully

Karen.

=

Thank you Karen.

A little homage to Karen and her friends and for Jodie who sent me a very rude email bluntly saying ‘I hate corner time, hate it. No more corners and no more corner time pictures either…’

You know who you are.

Here are some random snippets that I was saving until I thought of a better way to use them. They are all on the theme of corner time and purport to be real experiences.

Joan wrote:

“I had a bit of a bratty mouth in college and one day at dance class some hijinks led to a not so playful spanking with my leggings down and me in just a thong. The theme of the class had been our most embarrassing moments and I hadn’t really taken it seriously. So to really make sure I learned my lesson they handcuffed me with a prop set to the bar in the corner and left my leggings down while they went off for coffee. With a red bottom in a thong on show to anyone passing the viewing window I was left for about 40 minutes before they came back. It was so embarrassing, but it was typical of the pranks we played on each other.”

=

Terri wrote:

My two older cousins once spanked me with a plank in the woodwork shed because I kept following them around. Afterwards they nailed my denim shorts to the floor so that I was pinned in the corner at the ankles with my bare bum showing. They left me there until my aunt came and had to free me. She thought it was hilarious and told me it served me right, but I think she may have later spanked my cousins anyway even though one of them was 20. I wish I had seen that Lol.

=

Mary1950 wrote:

When I first worked at an office in 1960s we had a really traditional boss. He was always threatening to spank us girls for chatting or not doing our work. I never knew him carry out the threat, but he did often make us girls stand and face the wall during our lunch hour if we displeased him. It was so embarrassing when the post boy or other visitors dropped by.

A Classic corner time picture with her nose to the seam of the walls. Such punishment would be considered cruel and unusual in this house at the moment. See yesterday’s post.

Casey kicked the can away down the track. It made a satisfying rattle as it plink-plonked metallically on the hard ground and pebbles. So much so that despite the dusty heat she broke into a little jog that set her blonde ponytail bouncing to kick it again; anything to delay the inevitable and home.

Home was with Alec and a ragtag band of other girls, waifs and strays he called them, who had ended up at the Louisiana farm. Some had come just for the holidays and a working break from college. Others like Casey had dropped out of education altogether and now pretty much served as working tenants all year round.

Casey loved it, her real home had never been a patch on Alec’s farm, besides here she had sisters, three square with a roof and firm discipline. She sucked in her rueful pout at this last thought before letting it go as muted raspberry into the air.

“Oh well,” she sighed, “I guess I have it coming.”

She ducked her head and squinted her blue eyes down the track for hint of the others. But what wasn’t shaded was lost in a dusty summer haze all serenaded by crickets and the buzz of flies. A stand of hickory to her left would have provided welcome shade, but the thin sharp trees would be company for her all too soon as it was and she sighed again.

There were five grades of punishment in Alex’s disciplinary regime and at one time or another Casey had suffered them all. It had always been deserved and she had always signed off on it, even picking the most appropriate grade for her sins. Damn, how does he make me do that? It was question born of denial and she pushed it away.

The least anyone could expect was a ‘reprimand.’ This was the first grade, so to speak and the punishment most commonly used. This consisted of a simple over-the-knee hand spanking, sometimes in private but always on the bare bottom, which was preceded or followed by a relatively short stint in the corner.

All corner time was potentially public on the farm and not one of the women was deemed too old for the humiliation, not even when there were visitors. Casey gulped, there were way too many visitors around at the moment for comfort.

The next grade of sanction was a simple punishment. This was typically also and over-the-knee bare bottom spanking, but this time Alex employed a stout brush and a girl was always put in the corner for at least 40 minutes before and after her spanking. These spankings were carried out in front of anyone who happened to be around. Most of the girls, including Casey, cried copiously for these adventures and sitting was a chore for at least day or two afterwards.

The third and second most common of the graded regime was a severe punishment.

Casey’s hands stole to her denim clad bottom and she swallowed back her nerves. This sanction consisted of bare bottom corner time until Alex was ready and then a very sound spanking with the brush and at least another hour in the corner. Then the miscreant was either: paddled, strapped or sent to cut a switch for round two. Casey particularly hated the switch. A girl was lucky if she could sit for a week afterwards and that was before the chores.

Nasty chores all carried out without the benefit of clothing below the waist followed all severe punishments and could be on the cards for a week for serious offences. It went without saying that the girl was grounded for the duration.

Occasionally a girl had to ask for a very severe punishment.

This was hell on the behind and the embarrassment of it was excruciating. Casey remembered her time in the apron of shame, a brief garment that barely covered her front and nothing behind, which other than sneakers was all that a girl was permitted to wear for at least a week and sometimes longer.

There were daily spankings with this one, and all one’s spare time was spent nose to the corner. The first and last spankings were followed by the dread paddle or belt and a serious workout with a switch; a thin wand of pain that a girl had to walk to the public road to cut herself.

Then there were the chores. For at least a week and usually two every errand, every shitty job was came the miscreants’ way and if that meant going to the store then…

Casey stopped and winced ruefully as she saw the house up ahead. She had once been for the high-jump, Alec’s name for the most grievous sanction. It had been well-deserved and afterwards all sin had been washed from her soul. Surely this time… she hugged her ample bust nervously as she chewed her lip. Well she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it but… she swallowed back a sob, acutely aware of the raging tempest brewing in her gut.

The high-jump consisted of back to back very severe punishments for a month and anything else Alec threw into the mix. During the ordeal blistered bottoms felt twice their size and all sitting rights were curtailed for what seemed like forever.

One young postgrad student had once reported late back to college after a debacle with a stolen car, a married man and some drug offences. She never did it again, although the same woman had reported cheerfully the following summer for vacation work. Alec had that effect on people, that’s why Casey loved it here.

There were a couple of other girls kicking around the yard as she strolled in. Most of them were finishing off chores and two of the older woman had set on the porch with a couple of beers. None of them paid Casey the least mind.

“Have you seen Alec?” she asked.

Josephine Manga hooked a thumb towards the barn, her long raven tresses sweeping in its train. She was a 20-something woman with a matronly figure and more than a passing penchant for bringing Alec’s wrath down on her very own heroic bare bottom. However, today she looked relaxed and carefree. She was certainly sitting easily enough.

“Thanks,” Casey managed through gritted teeth.

“I know that look,” Josephine said with rueful expression of pity. “Do something bad?”

“I figure,” Casey sighed.

The two women chuckled and took another swig of beer.

“Tough break kid,” Josephine’s redheaded companion said sympathetically, but she didn’t look it.

Casey looked apprehensively over at the barn and then sighed. The two minute walk over there seemed to take a week.

Alec was crouching down next to the old tractor when she entered but as soon as he saw her he grinned and straightened up. Casey had never asked him his age and everyone over 30 always looked old to her, but she guessed he was about 40. He had faint streaks of grey in his dark hair and judging from the way he filled out his red check shirt he was only slightly sagging at the belly.

His smile backed up a notch as he wiped his hands on an old rag and he nodded quizzically.

“You got something on your mind?” he said.

Casey pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to her feet where it kicked at the dust.

“Went to the mall,” she muttered.

He frowned. The mall was off limits during the week. He felt his palms itch.

“Good of you to confess,” he said carefully, “What do you reckon it’ll cost you?”

She had a spanking coming and they both knew it. At the moment he figured a grade two maybe or a reprimand since she had confessed, but she would decide. It was the only way the girls cleared their consciences.

“There’s more,” she said without meeting his eyes.

He sighed. “Go on.”

“I kinda… well they had… well I haven’t been paid yet and…” she looked up eagerly and all of a sudden. “I didn’t go through with it… I owned up at the last minute and pretended it was a mistake…”

“You boosted something?” he asked.

She nodded.

“But you put it back?” Alec asked seriously.

Again she nodded but the heat had risen in her face and she was blushing to her ears.

“I see,” he sighed again and dusted off his hands.

“I guess I… I guess… last time you said…” Casey could hardly get the words out.

“Last time you went through with it and then lied and then blamed Aggy,” he said patiently.

“All the same, I think I have it coming,” Casey ducked her head again and kept very still.

“I think you half learned your lesson. I don’t think you deserve the high jump this time.” He said easily and smiled paternally.

“Very severe then,” she said woodenly, not feeling any better.

“Only if you insist,” he shrugged, “But a severe punishment should do it I think.”

“But… but… I…” Casey wailed.

“You really want to wear the shaming apron?” he asked frowning.

“No but…” there were tears in her voice and she still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I tell you what, next time you even think about stealing you’ll get grounded for a month with all that implies. That’s four weeks in the shaming apron and the soundest spanking I can manage each and every day,” he said brightly, “But I don’t think you’ll steal again. You didn’t really want to this time did you?”

“I guess not,” she said.

“So consider yourself grounded for a week,” he said sharply, “Now get over to the house and get that pretty little nose in the corner until I am ready to deal with you.”

Comets collided in Casey’s head and she felt more than a hint nervous nausea. She was both fizzing with relief and dreading what came next. A few years before she would have laughed in the face of anyone who told she would confess a sin that nobody would discover, let only ask to be punished for it. But in the early days she had tried denial and it had turned out badly for everyone: Alec, herself and her bottom. No better to get things over with.

It was a measure of her resolve that not only was the walk back quicker than before but she arrived at the large central kitchen dining room before she knew it.

There were two girls chatting by the fridge and she licked her lips as she hoped they would leave. It was always hard to disrobe with an audience, but there wasn’t the slightest chance her punishment would go unnoticed. Even if it did, she had a week of bare hiney drill for the edification of the other girls.

“Hey Casey,” one of the girls called over. It was Jade, a bright 20-something from the Bronx. She had a touch of Latino about her and Casey had seen her impressive bottom displayed more times than either woman could count.

“Hey,” Casey replied stiffly.

Billie, a cute younger blonde caught on and smirked.

“You need something? The corner perhaps?” she asked as if butter wouldn’t melt.

Casey blushed.

“Oh shit,” Jade gasped, “What you in for?”

“Unauthorised Mall visit with complications,” Casey groaned.

“You get a full week or…” she left it unsaid, but pointed upwards to indicate a harsher sanction.

“Just a week,” Casey said with a wincey expression.

“All yours sister,” Billie grinned, offering her the corner with a bow.

Casey waited to see if they would leave, but both women watched her curiously until finally she had to grit her teeth.

With a deep sigh and determined to get it over with, her denim shorts and panties found Casey’s ankles in a blink. Two pools of red formed on her cheeks as she stepped up to where the walls joined and with her nose well place she clasped her hands in her back. It could be a long wait for Alec she knew and she groaned.

Behind her the two women at the fridge giggled and made no sign of leaving. There were even muted whispering that just had to be about Casey and her exposed bottom. Her blush grew and tears pricked her eyes.

Casey couldn’t very well complain. She lived for moments like these when one of the girls was sent to the corner, when it wasn’t her turn she could dawdle over a glass of milk for half an hour. But what goes around comes around she guessed and today was her day.

During her nerve jangling vigil about half a dozen girls had come to gawp and giggle. Worse still every rattle or noise at the door could have been Alec and the start of her spanking. Corner time was ever a hell of waiting, ever eager to get it over with while earnestly praying that it would never start.

In the end it was more than an hour before Alec came in. Casey could hear him washing his hands at the sink and making those manly noises that girl couldn’t hope to emulate.

“Now young lady,” he said, “I hope you have had time to dwell upon your foolhardiness.”

“Yes Sir,” Casey agreed, but her dull voice sounded sullen and she hoped he wouldn’t take offence. “Honestly Sir, I am sorry I know I deserve to be punished,” she sincerely added.

“Good enough,” he sighed.

Casey waited for a summons but this time he didn’t speak but merely took her arm and pulled firmly and gently from the corner so that she tottered a little, hobbled as she was at the ankles by her shorts and panties.

He led her across the room by the arm as forced to take small steps she shuffled after him. But all too soon they reached the kitchen chair by the door and she was draped pell-mell across his lap. Not here, she quailed inwardly, oh God. In her mind she had fantasied about the soft chair in the den where in a quiet corner the other girls would stay clear. Across his knee in the kitchen her bare bottom was well displayed to anyone who might chance by. And by anyone she knew that included delivery people and any visitor of any kind who all tended to pitch up at the kitchen. Casey didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed.

Not that she had time to dwell on it. For in a moment the hardwood dust-brush was firmly patting her behind as Alec lined up for his first shot. Even these taps stung a little.

The dull thwack-thud-tanging sting all came at once, with only the latter sensation lingering. Not that it mattered for before the first spank had really burned her the next came in very short order so that the sound of the assault was one continuous volley.

Casey panted like a steam train on speed, slow loud breaths at first but quickly building to rapid grunts. The pain was familiar but no less for that. The stinging burn started at overwhelming and steadily grew worse. In less than half a minute her fast groaning extended to pained yelps and then full on howls of distress.

Two or three giggling girls suddenly tumbled in failed nonchalance through the door to the yard and quickly dispersed themselves around the room to watch. Not that Casey could see to count or identify her audience. Just then her face was just inches from the floor tiles and in any case her full attention was on the fire in her bottom.

“Oh my tears already, what a brat,” It was Paula, something of a cry baby herself. But it was true Casey’s bawling had real force now and copious tears already stained her face. “And look at that bottom, why does she always go so red,” Paula continued.

There was some general teasing and laughter, but to Casey it all became lost in a sea of misery.

Casey had no idea how long the spanking lasted. For an indefinite time she sincerely believed it would never end. But there was a clarity to it. Despite the pain and shame, despite everything after a time there was just her bottom, the brush and the burn. Almost conscious of nothing else she just cried and bawled until she was empty.

The spanking ended a full minute before Casey’s bottom registered the fact and in a daze she was set on her feet and led back to the corner. The brief moment that she could see the faces of her friends was excruciating, but they had all been there and amid it all there was an ecstasy in the humiliation that nothing else gave her.

The corner afterwards was a good place to cry, and cry Casey did. Great gouts of bawling tears that wracked her with sobs fit to shake the room. Nor did they end. Not for minutes on end as the after-burn throbbed, ached and stung deep in her bottom. Then little by little she recovered herself and a cosy tickle wrapped around her like a cloak. The corner was safe, and clean of all care and sin.

In private and after a reprimand Casey always loved these moments. When she had first come to stay she would test Alec every few days to provoke a good sound spanking; most of the girls did. But for the farm she knew that was a recipe for chaos. So for repeat offences and real sins the ante had to upped

So it was this time. As the burn became bearable Casey became aware of her surroundings and of other women watching her in amusement. Then she remembered what she still faced. God let it not be the switch, she prayed. But even if he strapped her it would be bad enough. She still faced a week of chores and punishments with her purple-red bottom displayed to the ever-loving community. The teasing would be merciless.

The second wave of tears was sincere. Deep heaves of regret and acceptance. The other women knew of this too and instead of laughing one by one they slipped away.

An hour later Casey was walking up the track to the stand of hickory she had seen before. In her hand she carried a medium pair of trimming cutters, the steel cool in her hot hands and in dire contrast to the heat throbbing in her behind. At least she had been spared going out the other gate towards town and the public road, but it was still trial. Her bare bottom felt huge and exposed as it jutted out behind in full view. Nor was it only the shame that assailed her. With every step her behind flared and ached so that she had to take slow careful steps in a kind of stiff crouched stance.

Then disaster struck.

Up ahead a bicycle rounded the curve in the track and slowly came nearer. Glen was a couple of years younger than Casey, a community college kid who delivered the local newspaper after school. Ooh God, she wailed inwardly. Her breathing kicked up a notch and she tried to control it. But nothing could stop her pounding heart.

She hadn’t been permitted shorts or panties, but her cotton shirt was a long sports one and draped easily to the top of her thighs. Only behind did the hem lift high enough for a reveal. Maybe he wouldn’t see.

However, Casey hadn’t counted on an hours’ worth of tearstains on her face, or a gait that shouted ‘well-spanked girl coming through’ and as he drew near Glen slowed.

“You okay?” Glen asked as he slowed to a stop ahead of her.

Casey’s face melted and she dipped her chin to her chest.

“Go away,” she hissed.

Glen frowned and then glanced at what he saw now was too much thigh. He had seen it all before of course, but he didn’t like to gape, it made him tongue-tied. If the fellows at college only knew what went on here there would be cars backed-up all the way to the turnpike.

“Sorry I…” Glen began, but seeing Casey’s glare he pumped his legs and pushed on at a lick.

But 10 yards on he stole a backward glance and couldn’t supress a grin at the perhaps the cutest and not to say reddest bare bottom he had ever seen. Maybe he could figure a way to hang around for a spell.

Casey didn’t dare turn. She didn’t want to know. Please, please, please don’t let me have to go to the store, she prayed, knowing that she risked a week of moments like these. Then sucking in air she strode out and immediately regretted it. The hickory would have to wait until the world’s slowest walker made it to where they grew.

*

When Casey finally made it back to the house holding her freshly cut switch Glen was still setting on the porch drinking a coke someone had thoughtfully offered him. She didn’t meet his eyes and couldn’t help tugging down her shirt in front as she blushed.

She did a kind of sideways step through the door into the house, but with her shirt tugged in front she offered the world a quick glance of her protruding bottom in profile; a firm red stained bubble. Glen had to move his coke can to cover his tent pole, but Jade just had to giggle.

Casey had done her best to hide the switch against her left thigh, a foolish bit of pride. Especially since she had to hold it under her bottom with both hands as she stood back in the corner.

The delivery boy was totally welcome to come into the kitchen for a refill and as Casey returned her nose to the corner she prayed upon prayer that he wouldn’t do so. Or if he did that Alec wouldn’t have bend over the back of the chair in there while was still around.

Sure enough after about 10 minutes the door opened and distinctly heavy boy-like sneakers slapped across the tiles to the fridge. Glen certainly took his time, but eventually made no attempt to stay and after a short age returned to the girls outside.

Casey face was a riot of horror and she wondered just how many cokes the boy could drink. Not for the first time she wondered if he would be permitted to watch her switching. But just then the door opened again and Aggy, one of the younger girls yelled: “Casey, Alec wants to see you in the barn.”

The barn was a good venue for a private session with Alec. There was a kind of mercy in it. However, it did mean she had to run the gauntlet of whoever was sitting on the porch and that meant that boy again.

This time she put on a brave face and with an enforced dignity strode, as much as her sore bottom would allow, out through the door and across the yard. With every step her behind flared to a fresh sting and she just knew every eye was drinking it in her careful progress. Nevertheless, she took comfort from the brief return of the ecstasy of shame she had felt earlier. You are one crazy bitch, she chided herself.

Casey was still pondering this when she reached the relative cool of the barn and saw Alec watching her. Next to him was a trestle stand with a triple folded blanket draped across the crosspiece. Heaving a sigh she wiped a small tear and braced herself. Then with one last act of bravery she handed Alec the switch and made her way to the waiting ‘saddle.’

The blanket was scratchy under her belly and thighs, worse still the posture elevated her bare bottom to her highest point so that it obscenely jutted up at the ceiling. Like two tender polished tomatoes the tight split rounds were proffered and exposed.

Just remember you deserve this girl, she told herself. She was still making the argument when a thing slice of pain seared deep across her offered behind and she screamed. Switch stroked came in slow dozens and there might a gross of them before Alec was done and a hundred throbbing welts would form worms of rawness where once she had been able to sit down.

At 12 or 15 he would stop to let her cry. He might even let her go to the corner for a while before he continued, but one thing was certain it was going to be a long afternoon. But at least this time there was just the three of them; Alec, Casey and a switch. All thoughts of giggling women and delivery boys retreated in her mind. This kingdom of agony was all hers and all shame fled. God she needed this.

Undeterred by the mixed response to her last offering (her words). I thought you were all very kind. Ruth has sent in some more pictures she culled from semi-private forum and other sources she doesn’t divulge. She claims most of them are supposed to be actual real punishments – but isn’t sure. With deference to those girls who suffer real corner time for other reasons and are oft featured here, I think potential amateur shots is a better term,

I have seen one or two of these before (but can’t place them). Others are new. I have held a couple back and may use them in future. As ever you can decide what you think and speculate on origins.

Anyway she wrote: ‘I have always been fascinated by corner time and spanking and I love this blog. I have two anecdotes you might publish if that is alright?’ So who knows, watch this space.

Fun or real discipline in action (it comes to the same for some). Sent in by Ralph, our thanks to him.

This is an example of how naughty a girl can be and I thought it worth an airing. In the early days of our relationship Indigo was not as used to cornertime as she is now, in fact she hated it. Not that she exactly loves it now.

In her words:

I am going to introduce you to a game. This is for ladies only so gentlemen you ay go and do some digging or play in oil or whatever it is you get up to.

Girls, do you ever get sent to the corner? We know what men can be like. A little bit of glitter in the wrong place, a remark that they get all tetchy about, a simple mistake involving a cream pie and their face and there you go again, face in the corner, skirt raised above your bum and bored out of your mind.

If he were in any way reasonable he would let you take a book, your phone or maybe your manicure kit to the corner with you. He would provide you with a comfy chair and a cup of tea. And come and sit there with you, maybe let you curl up on his lap.

But until he sees reason and makes corner time more appropriate for your needs;  I have a diversion for you.

Right, so, you are in the corner, you know how it is. You are a bit embarrassed, maybe annoyed and certainly unsure of how long you are going to be in this ignoble position for.

The game, ladies, is afoot..

  As you know pontoon is a game where one must get cards as close as possible to twenty one without going over, if you go over you go bust or in other words, you lose.

Your first job is to pick a number – I suggest go low. Let us imagine you pick “three.”

You must now try to get three warnings of admonishments without further sanction. Threats of sanctions do not count. Here is an insight into how the game may be played*.

Innocent girl (henceforth to be known as IG) is in the corner, in position, hands behind her back, skirt tucked up, knickers at mid thigh, and nose in the corner.

Nefarious man  (henceforth to be known as NM) is sitting elsewhere in the room, maybe at his computer or pinning butterflies to a board.

IG cannot see NM for obvious reasons. Sometimes NM may glance at her but she will not know when that is.

IG picks a number, for sake or argument, a three.

Slowly she allows her skirt to creep down her legs. She does this tiny bit at a time, no great drop, no obvious change. She must be aiming for not being caught because if she lacks subtlety in her ingenious game then her bottom is forfeit. I did not warn you that the stakes are high but indeed they are.

So her skirt creeps down and eventually even NM manages to notice this and strides over to her. Her heart seems to stop and she tucks her head into her shoulders as he tells her very firmly to keep her skirt where it should be. She does not correct him about where her skirt should be as he lifts it once more to her waist and returns to his work. (This skirt move s called “The fall.” Should you wish to identify it in the future.)

She has reached one and all is well.  1-0 to IG

Now it is time for the second. I would suggest “The plank”. The aim of the plank is to make your body as straight as it can possible go and lean at the most precarious angle possible. Feet to one side, shoulders to the other- this distraction has two advantages; not only does it count as one pontoon point providing a little distraction but also it provides a rest for her feet if they are getting sore. When IG hears NM bark out, “and stand up straight or I will …(indeterminate threat)” then she can count her score as 2-0. She may have to stand up again but she is a winner and winners don’ mind standing up sometimes.

Now she is almost home and dry. So I shall suggest my favourite, sorry, IG’s favourite move henceforth to be known as “The shuffle.” IG must pick a direction, either to the left or to the right- not behind her, too much like obvious rebellion which breaks the rules of pontoon and not forward which breaks the rules of physics which leaves the left or right. Very, very slowly, not lifting her feet or allowing her skirt or arms to drop she must shuffle in one direction as far as she is able. This move takes time. It requires patience which is a bit of a shame but what can one do?

With any luck IG can get maybe a meter from the corner in which she has been placed before she gets caught. This will be a tricky moment. NM will certainly be frustrated by her daring do and wonderfulness. He will do a scary march in her direction and she will bite her lip while she awaits the fall of the axe.

You may all breathe a sigh of relief as NM simply returns her to her two sided prison and says that “If she does that again …” but then she stops listening.

You know why, don’t you?

IG 3  NM 0

Which means it is time for another round. Do you think she should go for seven?

*All stories are entirely fictitious and any relation to any person living or dead is in your fervid imagination. Shame on you.

I have had a lot of recent correspondence on this issue. Why are spanking and corner time so indelibly linked? Girls, ever had corner time?

One contributor here once said she spent all day in the corner for lying. Five hours in total I think. Any advance on that?

What about post versus pre-spanking corner time? Or are you taken out at intervals to be re-spanked?

Indigo absolutely hates corner time and it is always a last resort with us and it is used sparingly. Not that she gets the last say, but one has to respect what works and thee feelings of your sub. Not that Indigo has a completely corner free life.

It seems that  women react very differently to corner time. I knew of a 20-year-old who would do 40 minutes with nothing more than a pout and another who went from rebelling at five minutes to meekly taking an hour.

A while back a college student who discovered my blog while researching about corner time, of all things. She tells me that it was corner time and not spanking that featured in her domestic sanctions at the hands of her guardian right up to leaving for college and she hated it.

However, after almost three years being young free and single she sometimes misses the “clarity and guidance” of being strictly handled. As an adult these feelings have become mixed up with a curiosity and a prurient interest in spanking, which is why, she says, she is a “big fan” of the blog.

Now I am obviously flattered and gratified by her interest here, but beyond that she posed me a question. “What is corner time and where did it come from?”

I love to do some proper research into this and I am fascinated by others experience and ideas, but that might be one for the future when I have more time. For now, this is what I have.

Corner time is in many ways a form of bondage. One places a girl in a corner, or sometimes facing a wall where she is forced to consider her sins and punishment. The interesting thing about it is that ostensibly it is voluntary. It is a recognition on some level of the authority of another to someone to the corner and an acceptance of an offered cooperation, all without ropes or chains.

Now obviously there is often the threat of a spanking attached to not obeying, but as with most such customary things, this is rarely overt.

Corner time comes in many different forms, it is most often done fully clothed by the very young as a ‘time out,’ given as a chance to cool down and is all the more embarrassing when given to a young adult. As we know this is often, but not always accompanied by a spanking.

A trawl of YouTube revealed one office spanking, played for laughs, but the woman lost in a rather unstable grainy movie looked embarrassed enough. Sadly there was no explanation. There was also a late teen giving it attitude to a concealed camera phone, saying she was “in community college for Christ sake and I got a swat on the butt and sent to the corner. Man this sucks;” again no explanation.

There was also a gang of what looked like some English college kids cajoling a girl of maybe 19 or 20 to go and sit in the corner facing the wall for some unnamed sin. She seemed bemused and uncomfortable, especially as she was being filmed and teased, but making a joke of it she did finally comply. Again I have no idea what was going on, a bet maybe?

My point about all of this is that it does seem to be going on in the 21^st century English-speaking world. This brings me to the question is Corner Time a mainly an Anglo-Saxon pursuit?

I did find an early 19^th century reference to Prussian governesses (that’s German to you) using corner time. It seems to have been used for girls of all ages as either an alternative to birching or as an accompaniment.

I had to do a rough type from a Photostat of an old magazine, which was in German and then run it through Google translator. So do bear with me. The gist of it was:

A girl or young woman of any age may be contained in her behaviour by demanding that she standing a corner facing the wall. This method can be employed as prelude to a sound birching and has the effect of making her wait (in shame?) to dwell upon her crimes.

Further shaming can be effected by exposing that area of operation either before and certainly afterwards, if more time in the corner is needed.

I am not sure if nudity was more acceptable in Prussia, they certainly went in for some quite harsh birch thrashing on the bare bottom and often in public. But in England it featured less.

Most of the line drawings in serious magazines depict women, even married ones either fully clothed or stripped to the petticoats. I found this:

It was most shameful to me to be standing at the corner with my behind burning under my skirts from the slipper. To my way of thinking I was much too old to be treated so, especially as my siblings and young cousins were on hand to witness my shame.

In another update to this post I have removed the Sally Field reference, although she was spanked in movies, it seems the corner time picture was a misreport, thanks to FFairm who corrected the Field reference. They pointed out that Lara Flyn Boyel got public corner time in court as a naughty lawyer in the TV show who is sent to the corner by the judge. See last picture above.

There is also a 1950s western where a young 20-something actress playing a 17-year-old is sent to the corner and warned to stay there “or I’ll paddle your behind to a shiny red.” I saw the movie years ago but don’t remember its name. It’s the kind they don’t show anymore just because of scenes like this.

The earliest reference I found to some form of time out dated back to early American colonial days. A 17^th century settlement in Massachusetts was confronted with the problem of dealing with three unmarried girls indulging in “unseemly behaviour.”  The justice of the peace and the preacher were vexed that there was no pillory or stocks. So although the girls’ families “would no doubt whip them soundly” a public shaming was felt necessary.

The girls were ordered stand “on their honor” at the village pump for two hours after church.

Indeed I have seen engravings of women being tethered at the neck or ankle to a village whipping post from this era. It is not obvious what is keeping them there other than their own cooperation as the tethers seemed mainly symbolic.

Twitter threw up some interesting pictures with comments like, “my sister in time out,” “phooey, the paddle and some corner time, no fair,” “my bad, I guess I deserve it,” and “me in the corner.”

I have no idea if the images weren’t just cribbed and I leave you to put captions to pictures. I have also included some other random pictures for your edification. All the pictures used are of the 18+ variety and I haven’t included faces where not appropriate. There are a million of them out there. It seems no domestic spanking is now complete without putting a picture of your wife or girlfriend in the corner on social media.

There also seems to be a trend, perhaps post-50 shades, of putting magazine models in the corner to make them more sexy. Among the pictures is also a rare picture of Lady D, the famous dominatrix from Real Spankings from the early 1980s when she was still on the receiving end.

Do you use corner time in your lives? Do you have nay insights?

Sorry for the absence of Vintage Sunday and the lack of a Weekly Round-Up. I had thought I had queued one up but the weekend got way from me. It has been is and is going to be a busy couple days so posts will be hit and miss this week.

Meanwhile, here are some previously unused cornertime pictures.

I saw this picture and realised that you don’t see enough nose to corner classic shots. While I put the finish on the next part of The Deal, consider this one.

On the trail of something I stumbled across this picture on Tumblr and thought I would share.

Always on the lookout for cornetime related reports I chanced across a couple of odd little snippets. Apparently in a poll 86% of women think cornertime is more arduous than a spanking.

I love these polls, no context, no idea who they asked or how many and yet someone will publish them. In a related, but possibly different poll published on a Voy forum, 73% of couples in spanking relationships use cornertime; 63% use objects in addition to the hand for spanking, 23% use a cane or similar and 54% of couples who use implements don’t buy them but improvise with household objects.

This wasn’t a Voy Poll per se, but a claim made in a comment to a forum on BDSM. One wonders who gets asked and how they know they are being told the truth. I can’t see a pollster outside a High Street Tesco’s asking shoppers these questions.

Again I love all of this stuff, but always remember that 76% of statistics are made up.

Busy day at work: longer post tomorrow.