Spanking Illustrations

Posted on September 23, 2012 by crankyspanker

Some time ago I posted drawings labeled spill. It was pointed out to me that the abbreviation was for spanking illustrations. Since the files are not orgab..nized in any particular way I have posted the same ones more than once, my personal favorites. To try and post some of the others I have, who knows there may be an unusual drawing that has not been seen for some time. I am starting with the oldest first.


Simple line art, I find that I appreciate these even after all this time. I can not draw myself and am unqualified to evaluate the relative merits of any of these. I can now admit though that I like them a lot and share them with any one that may be interested. If you want a copy of this collection just leave a comment and I will see that you get them.

CS

Posted in Spanking Art & Comics | 2 Comments

Invitation to a Spanking

Posted on September 21, 2012 by crankyspanker

Erica Scott author of Late Bloomer the book featured on my site has posted a number communications from potential playmates on her blog Erica Scott: Life, Love & Spanking. She probably gets tired of hearing this but I think that she is incredible, intelligent and very brave with lots of attitude. She would probably admit that her it is her mouth that most often what lands her butt in hot water.

These messages are so badly put together that I find them pretty pathetic, but who am I to evaluate these messages? After all I have dreamed about finding and spanking the right partner for many years and been unable to even do that. From my younger years my single friends would often tell me that if you want to meet women you have to put yourself out there. If you try to talk to as many women you find attractive as possible you might find someone willing to talk or more. It is the same principle as spam; the great majority on recipients will delete you without a second thought, but some might respond. Just for the record I am a Nigerian Oil Ministry official and I have the privilege to request your assistance to transfer the sum of $47,500,000.00 (forty seven million, five hundred thousand United States dollars) into your accounts.

So in this age of social networking it should be so simple to make a connection. Despite being in the minority some of the bloggers listed here have been successful finding partners who want the same things that they do. I have to admit being a little envious, after all nobody said that life would be easy, but it is also encouraging that it can be done and couples can play and love and even be married without losing desire, even enhancing spanking play.

As usual being somewhat clueless I have to wonder where to begin, it is really tempting to be simple and direct.  “Me Tarzan, you Jane, bend over now!” This might be effective for someone like Brendan Fraser, just look at him.

Maybe something more formal.

All that is missing is nice paper.

My best quality is my humor but it is hard to joke about something that is quite serious to me. “I really like live theatre would you like to accompany me to the opera, something light, less Luciano Pavarotti more Grouch Marx.”

Perhaps a short résumé:

Position Desired: Top

Some experience but eager and willing to learn

Salary very negotiable.

You may have noticed if you are still reading that I am really terrible at this. I have found it difficult enough to broach this subject with women I have already slept with. Honey, come over here. I need to spank you and I think you will enjoy it as much as I will.

From my own perspective I think it would be nice to meet first and talk over a cup of coffee or glass of iced tea. I would like to know more about you and you could get an impression of what I am really like. We can both talk about what we like and don’t like. I think that the cafes in Europe with the tables on the sidewalk are the perfect place to meet for the first time, very public and a safe way to meet.

Still optimistic

CS

PS   I thought this post worth repeating.

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Change of Pace

Posted on September 18, 2012 by crankyspanker

It is really past time for some spanking stuff. I am actually gainfully employed this week but I thought I would pass this on. I can not take the credit, it arrived in my inbox, but I had to exploit the opportunity.

 

Did you ever hear the expression “up a creek.”

 

Well I can imagine my version “ready to spank without.”

 

So I was almost giddy when I saw this picture. I can not attest to it’s authenticity, I had to re-post it here.

 

 

This is the answer. Need a paddle, buy a paddle.

If this is as old as I think it is, oops.

CS

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

The Sounds of Spanking

Posted on September 17, 2012 by crankyspanker

I hate to admit to it but I am a big fan of Weird Al. It’s understandable that I am quite fond of really good spanko parody songs. Here is one of the other kinds.

Hello sweetheart, my dear friend
I’ve come to paddle your rear end
Across my knee then you came crawling
So deep, so hard in love was I falling
I lifted your skirt
And I bared your pretty bum
It won’t hurt
Waiting, for the sounds,
Of spanking

I raised my hand and brought it down
I’d made you wait, I’d made you frown
Just grit your teeth, I’ll have you know
Tears from spankings just must sometimes flow
Slapping briskly from side to side
Hitting you baby with all I had
You almost cried
Listening, to the sounds
Of spanking

I did not know, you did not ask
It was so sweet taking you to task
I pushed my face right into your neck
I smelled your scent, boy was I a wreck
It seemed to me
That this could never end
It shouldn’t end
Remembering, the sounds
Of spanking

Nice Picture borrowed from Erica Scott.

It’s a tribute, really, I like the song. Sincere apologies to Simon and Garfunkel.

CS

 

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Piano Man — In My Dreams

Posted on September 15, 2012 by crankyspanker

No spanking tonight but I am still a little choked up over here.

Sorry about the nostalgia but a long strange trip it has been. I studied piano at an early age, my immigrant parents thought it was good for me. I vaguely recall my first piano instructor, a frail septuagenarian, who had an air of decay about her and breath that could gag a maggot.

I had started taking lessons prior to this and for those who still doubt the proofs are taken Carnegie Hall Stage Right and Center. I really don’t know about that second one though.

That is where it all started my ardent desire to master the piano-forte. Aside from brief forays into the study of other instruments guitar, accordion and bassoon in school, yeah I was in the band make something out of it, I always returned to the keyboard.  Starting and stopping repeatedly over the years, managing to stay on track for almost two years with an instructor in Southern California.

Today I was taking an afternoon siesta with the dogs, my dreams were pleasant I think and even the fat little dog did not snore. I groggily made my way downstairs and sat down in front of the baby grand that we acquired about 18 months ago. The sheet music on the open on the piano is quite yellow although it started out that way, just more worn.

Opened to “Minuet in G”, you know like in the “Music Man”, La de dah de dah de dah, well my fingers were not cooperating so I turned back the page to a “Sonatina No. 1 in G” both by Ludwig Van.  There was a time I could play this at least as well as the small Asian children on You Tube, and how long it took me to master the thing I will not admit. Better but not by much.

Plunking away at some of the tunes I once played badly my left hand started playing a scale, no it was a broken chord, up and down, up and down.  That’s not right; I was still a little sleepy so I moved the chord to my right hand and started playing again. That’s more like it, I moved the end notes downward and it was starting to sound familiar. I tried to add the baseline, just a couple of notes and I could almost hear the lyrics in my head. My wife came downstairs and asked if I wanted to eat.

Did you recognize that tune I was attempting to play? She hadn’t heard that much. While eating I could not get that melody out of my head, we finished and cleaned up. I went back to the piano. “Please listen to this” I asked her and tried to pull the tune back together. My wife the consummate musician, music major, her orchestra even played at the Royal Albert Hall for the queen*, said “that’s familiar but you are playing in the wrong key.” What else is new?

Just to be clear this song was never in my eclectic repertoire. I don’t have the sheet music and have never played it before. Just barely remembering the words I did find the song, it’s not a very complicated piece of music but then again I am not a very complicated musician.

As time goes on
I realize
Just what you mean
To me
And now
Now that you’re near
Promise your love
That I’ve waited to share
And dreams
Of our moments together
Color my world with hope of loving you

“Color my world” by Chicago. I think that the Freudians would have had a whole lot of fun with this. But personally I think my subconscious has been sleeping with my wife in the spare bedroom.

Color me poignant.

* It wasn’t her group it was a group of the best university musicians assembled by Purdue University. They toured Europe twice and did a command performance at the palace, Buckingham Palace to be specific.

CS

Posted in Being Cranky, Mostly true life experience | 3 Comments

It’s All My Fault

Posted on September 10, 2012 by crankyspanker

I may complain that my marriage is completely screwed up. In relatively objective examination, I have to conclude that I started this mess. I carefully orchestrated our relationship. I was a man with a plan.

Felix and Oscar have nothing on us. When my wife first saw me, I went to her office to work on a computer; I was clearly a middle aged hippie type, sporting a pony tail, of all things. She is a party line conservative, well educated and still looks great in a business suit and 4 inch heels. I am a confused libertarian, high school dropout, and would live in tee shirts and jeans. There is no way that she would think about dating me and she was probably correct.

She loves dogs, still does and for some obscure reasons dogs are attracted to me. It may be that I eat meat 11 times a week or the Eau de Bacon after shave. I won the approval of her pooches and with that approval I was deemed trustworthy enough to dog sit. She had to go out of town and I stayed in her apartment and did the doggy daddy thing. I have never really been a pet person, you can ask anyone that knows me; I can barely look after my self. My ideal pet would be a pet rock and I would probably kill it.

It was only after that that she agreed to go out with me. After dating for a while she agreed to marry me. All of this I forget while we argue about everything. The events I described here are as correct and accurate as I can remember, it was fifteen years ago after all and my memory is not as good as it once was.  Lots of people visit this blog and few bother to comment, but I think that this post really needs only one visitor.

Update from the management. Comments from Mrs Cranky.

Not sure whether to smile or be furious. Not just a pretty face lots of intelligence here. Absolutely not party line GOP, disagrees strongly with some of the party’s agendas. You did not fool me for a second. I saw you coming a mile away. Don’t let it happen again.

Emanuele

aka Manny

aka Cranky Spanker

Posted in Mostly true life experience | 6 Comments

And Now Something Else

Posted on September 9, 2012 by crankyspanker

I know I usually post drawings and artwork here and these are my most popular days. Since there has been a shortage of spanking stuff here lately I thought I would add this. I will post more archived drawings next Sunday.

Finally, after so much time had gone by, it was finally happening. I was sitting on my bed and a person of the female persuasion was draped over my eager lap. I made the appropriate adjustments to her clothing and there she lay. Skirt pulled up and over her back with her knickers pulled down and banded about her thighs.

Throwing caution to the wind, although I could have sat there admiring the view for much longer, I didn’t want to risk it. Seriously I could wake up any second. Placing my less useful left hand in the small off her back and pressing down, I raised my right arm and slapped one cheek and then the other. I wasn’t hitting with all my strength just nice authoritative smacks. I slapped away for a little bit, pausing to rub the nicely warming flesh. I was really enjoying myself.

She told me to stop. She didn’t complain that I was hurting her, or that what I did was wrong. She simply said “this is just making me mad. You are really starting to piss me off, so cut it out.” I did stop spanking but really I was so tempted to tell her, in my best Bogart of course “Look Schweetheart, you asked for this and now you are going to get it!” I did not do this, I sadly let her up and watched her stomp from the room, pulling herself together. I could hear her foot thumps all the way down the hall.

I did a quick Google search for an image or Bogey spanking Bacall, I am aware of course such a search phrase would turn up Our Bottoms Burn.

No luck there but A very nice spanking blog by a couple.

No spanking here but damn that’s a fine sandwich.

I thought I would try and get alternate ideas. If I find myself in this position or something like it. I mean the Bogart thing might have worked but who can say. Was she more pissed at me for spanking her or for stopping? Tell me what you think.

CS

Posted in Mostly true life experience | 3 Comments

Pursuit of Happiness

Posted on September 8, 2012 by crankyspanker

It should be a right. But like everything else there are limitations. You would not believe what I have done over the years chasing that perfect partner, for sex and spankings of course. Even if the odds are very long. I once went to London chasing the remotest possibility of that very thing.

Wait a minute; I know what you are thinking. You’re a stalker, not just any kind either you’re an international stalker. It may seem a lot like that but I assure you, I mean appearances are deceptive, that was not the case. I wasn’t convicted after all.

A short few hundred years ago a friend contacted me. A mutual acquaintance had a dilemma and she had no one left to ask for help. She had scheduled a romantic trip for herself and her boyfriend, one month in the UK. Her boyfriend was unable to go. Please stop me if you’ve already heard this. She needed someone to go with her. I think I was the only one she had ever met that wasn’t broke.

Aw shucks just like a puppy.

I was in between engagements; I had just been interviewed at an aerospace firm. This was cutting edge stuff, I had all the required skills and they were ready to hire me. This was a difficult choice for me. Accept employment doing R&D or go on a trip with some one who was practically a stranger. I am talking about a very cute stranger that in most other instances would not give me the time of day. I did the only reasonable thing, I asked my potential employer to wait a month. They politely declined.

Well in for a penny. I made all the necessary arrangements and flew to New York. We flew to Heathrow and I had such a crush, her reaction to me was meh. The first week was easy. We sublet am apartment in London and it was fully furnished. We did some tourist stuff together and both had a bed. I discovered English pubs and hard cider. I still don’t drink ale or beer but this stuff was great.

The second week we were scheduled to take a bus tour of Wales. It got tougher for me here. We often had to share the only bed. I learned that I snored too much and I had a tendency to want to cuddle in my sleep. Some of the beds we slept in had to be from World War II. Nice and firm on the edges with a saggy spot in the middle. I was getting in deeper all the time. I do believe there was a pool among our fellow passengers whether we would be together or not by the end of the week.

The last two weeks we were arguing like an old married couple and we were stuck with just the two of us. She was frustrated because she needed my help and I was frustrated because well you know. We toured Ireland. She got even more pissed off because she couldn’t drive the car she had rented, she never drove a manual transmission, and my car at home was an MGB. Driving around Ireland was really trippy and it took a while for me to get used to the other side of the street. I swear that some of the roads on the map were just dirt ruts through fields of sheep. The lodgings for the two weeks were all B&Bs. One bed, usually no shower so I learned how to take baths.

I lost my Southern California Drawl and started to sound like the locals. We saw a lot of the countryside and I even got to hear an Irish band play in a Pub. It was amazing they almost made me cry. I was surprised that none of the B&B operators, mostly nice Irish couples, asked about our marital status. When you argue all the time it was plain to see that we were married. So we just said nothing.

When we got back to New York I had only enough change left for a phone call. I had learned a lot about my self. Despite sharing a bed I mostly behaved myself. I could not help the snoring and no one else has ever said that I cuddle in my sleep. I have a lot of nice blurry pictures, and I think that despite our mutual frictions it was a pretty good trip just not the one I was hoping for. Despite being barely acquainted we did not kill each other and I was not a risk for her. Maybe that was the other reason I was asked in the first place.

CS

 

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WHOSE Pants ARE These?

Posted on September 7, 2012 by crankyspanker

Seriously they can’t be mine, they don’t fit! I was looking for something nice to wear for an evening out. None of the clothes piled or hung in my closet was even close. We had to buy something new.

This is probably a pretty common complaint considering the easy availability of all kinds of food. For many years I have been bouncing twixt 190 and 200 but this was a new high, or more correctly put a new low. I even posted a mad as hell rant on Face Book. I don’t even remember when this happened; I may have blanked it all out.

I think that my wife wears a size zero or maybe it is a one, that’s alright, she was always the pretty one and I brought the brains. I am still trying to break past 190 but I am wearing a 38” waist and they aren’t tight. It’s the up and down that’s the most frustrating but if I can make it to New Years and be the same or a little lighter that would be a victory.

Where is my ideal weight, a long time ago in a galaxy far away, perhaps?  I do plan to buy myself some nice threads if I can achieve it. Success is its own reward, bull, I want Armani.

I can only hope.

CS

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Losing IT!

Posted on September 4, 2012 by crankyspanker

Virginity – What women are proud to have and men are ashamed of. This is quoted from the Urban Dictionary. I can imagine that there are many different ways of losing it.

I used to really enjoy flying. I even defended airline foods on 60 minutes. I looked up and suddenly I was being interviewed. Never got to see the footage but friends told me that they recognized me, my first 15 minutes. But I always have a strange reaction to the practice of flight attendants handing out hot towels at the end of long flights.

Coffee, Tea, how about any one or these. Please

Ah nice warm washcloths.

This is why. I knew this woman, professional no nonsense type. Recently divorced, she was on her own with no children. She was a few years my senior but I wouldn’t say that she qualified as a cougar. My memory fails on all the details but somehow I found myself in her condo and in her bed. The sex was all vanilla but very nice.  I thought I was a good lover trying to satisfy her first and since I seldom went very long without spanking it, I lasted a pretty long time.

These were the days before safe sex. Our coupling was bareback and I don’t even know if she practiced any form of birth control. What did I know I had never gotten past finger fucking?  When we were finished she got up and went to the bathroom, I suppose to clean up. I was feeling quite satisfied as I lay back in her bed, calm and relaxed and comfortably naked. I am not usually comfortable naked, normally I am pretty uptight about it.

More naked way less six pack.

 

At the time I was in pretty good shape, 30” waist, not especially muscular but pretty nicely proportioned. She wasn’t half bad herself, just starting to get that rounded bottom that comes from hours sitting at a desk. The nice lady returned from the bath wrapped in a fluffy robe. She gingerly grabbed me, with two fingers; at least she didn’t use tongs and carefully wrapped my flaccid member in a warm washcloth. Does that feel better? She asked.

Up until then I had been feeling pretty good, and I had no idea just what I was supposed to do now. Should I get up and wash myself? Were we finished? If I had used the cloth was it time for round 2. The only other time anything like that happened I was being carefully checked out by a pro, commonly referred to a short arm inspection, and she did scrub my cock with a warm washcloth. There were quite a few ways that I might have reacted, but being an inexperienced idiot I did none of them. It may just have been a nervous reaction; I really could not help myself. I started laughing. I think I either hurt her feelings or she was just plain pissed off. It did not matter I was not asked back to her nice condo again.

So you can understand I might lose it when an attractive woman in a provocative outfit offers me a warm towel.

CS

 

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