It has been ten years since I started writing regularly about spanking, initially as a contributor to another blog. After a disagreement (in good faith, on both sides) about a point of principle, the blog owner and I parted company and I migrated my content to a new site here. My objectives were, among other things, to treat it as a real subject to be documented and intelligently discussed, rather than making the site just a vehicle for the circulation of pornography, and to present a mutually self-supporting synthesis of writing and visual content. The latter imposed some limitations that meant the site was bound to have a finite lifespan.
No website has unlimited file storage space for the pictures it features. This one is now getting close to full up. The only ways around this would be either to free up space by deleting a significant amount of the content, which I don’t want to do, or to switch over to a paid plan that offers more storage space, and would have two implications. Whereas under the free plan the site will continue to exist indefinitely, the paid one only lasts as long as the payments keep coming in to the hosting company. Secondly, to cover those payments I would have to monetize the site, which would invalidate the ‘fair use’ legal basis on which I present a lot of the images. So if I were to take the paid option, I would also have to delete a lot of the content, which would then obviate the need to change plans in the first place. Catch-22.
So the only viable option is to end at a point when, in any event, there isn’t much more left to cover: I have already said most of what I want to say about the subject and analyzed most of the available material. In all likelihood there is more out there that is yet to be discovered, given how widespread was the mainstream interest in spanking during the last century; but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hunting down fresh content and constantly getting squeezed by the law of diminishing returns. So as it happens, finishing now more or less coincides with what I want to do anyway.
I haven’t been forced to quit by anything that anyone else has done, and I am not going to delete the site: it will remain as a resource and a record, and if it should ever disappear, it won’t be my doing. If you haven’t been reading for the last ten years, and even if you have, there is a back catalog of more than 1,500 articles to browse through, with nearly 30,000 pictures. Since the ‘free’ plan is actually funded by advertising, you might also like to consider clicking on the ads from time to time: it only takes a moment, you don’t have to buy anything and it might give the hosting company a slight incentive not to regard the site as relict or moribund.
There’s another sense in which this is not absolutely the end. There’s still a small amount of storage left, and while it lasts I shall use it to enhance the various stage histories, adding any new finds and, where required, rationalizing the material into more coherent forms. I will also continue to research any interesting readers’ queries submitted via the comments box, and some additional pages, new to you and hopefully of interest, will gradually be appearing on the left-hand side. But the rate at which any content is added will be a whole lot slower than hitherto, and there won’t be any more new discursive articles. I expect it will also take longer for any comments to be reviewed and moderated.
Thank you for reading my work. I hope you have enjoyed at least some of it. Special thanks go to everyone who has expressed appreciation in the comments section, and particularly those readers who have contributed by suggesting new content or improvements to existing articles.
Let us think for a moment about a naughty girl who is being spanked, not as a complete, integrated unit of personhood but rather as a series of discrete body parts, like some medieval poet praising his lady-love bit by bit, with her hair, nose, lips and eyebrows (along with many others) each singled out for laudatory attention. This might provoke a few feminists on the hunt for ‘objectification’, but the actual objective is to think about the complex effect of a spanking image in terms of some of its component parts.
which is more or less in the middle. But it proceeds to the extremities.
There are jokes about pounding sense into her head through the other end: ‘That’s not where my mind is!’ But if you really want to know what impact the spanking is having, you ought to be looking at her face rather than any marks that may be visible on her rear end.
There are a range of possible expressions, which may develop in the course of a spanking. A girl may at first be surprised at where she has found herself, as in this post-modern comic book cover from 2022:
The next stage may be indignation, as seen in this humorous French piece of 1923:
Or it may be dismay at her predicament, as registered by the lady in this topical cartoon, representing Spain being punished by bad weather in 1935:
Not everyone is convinced by such looks, perhaps because they aren’t thinking of an image as a snapshot of a single moment in time.
But as the spanking goes on, open-mouthed dismay may turn to tearful distress,
and then to outright pain, sometimes expressed with rictus mouth and screwed-up face,
and sometimes by letting it all out, as in this contemporary suggestion about how Raymond Chandler’s 1939 detective novel The Big Sleep ought to have ended:
(That’s Carmen Sternwood, the cause of all the trouble, being spanked by her father instead of committed to a mental institution as actually happens in the book; the characters were played by Martha Vickers and Charles Waldron in the 1946 film version, and by Candy Clark and James Stewart in the 1978 remake.)
I’ve discussed elsewhere how the viewing angle affects the way a spanking image comes across. In this case, catching the emotions that pass across the girl’s face is generally facilitated by choosing an angle that favors the front end. For an illustration of an alternative point of view, we briefly turn to the 2017 Israeli film Zug Yonim (Love Birds):
It’s a seat-of-the-panties spanking, and obviously her bottom draws the eye, but that’s not what I chose the image for. As I said, a spanking starts at the bottom and moves on to the extremities, and it can go down as well as up…
Some people don’t consider the girl’s legs to be a particularly important element of a spanking image: look at where the layout editor has placed the fold of this 1953 magazine spread,
or how this 1938 illustration has been cropped to make way for a block of text (here whited out):
Look at the way this 1925 newspaper overlays one photo on another,
and how the Nashville artist Charles Overman Bissell (1908-2000), illustrating an episode in the troubled marriage of the opera singer Cyrena van Gordon (1892-1964), doesn’t even bother to draw all the way to the end of the left-hand extremity:
There’s another way in which people are often casual about what goes on down at the lower end, which we can see in one of the last group of examples, and see again in a famous stock image by the Philadelphia photographer Harold M. Lambert (1894-1963), which was used in a coffee ad that ran, pre-Chase and Sanborn, in 1951 and 1952:
To see what’s wrong with that, look at her feet and compare what you see with this panel from a Dutch comic book of 2002:
I’m talking about the crossed ankles in the early ’50s ad (and the otherwise excellent photo that lies behind it). The model has done it to enhance her own balance and stability in her precarious position, arguably putting personal convenience above artistic impact; whereas legs separated in a scissor formation, often variegated with angles at the knees, looks less relaxed and makes for a less static, more dynamic image.
And, though I’ve just shown some fairly recent examples of well-done leg-work, there are lots of older ones scattered around here: crossed ankles wasn’t a minor historical error of composition that has been corrected with the passing of time.
The rationale is that every picture of a spanking needs to convey a sense of movement, and one of the things that’s likely to be moving quite rapidly is the girl’s lower extremities. Comics have their own non-literal visual conventions for distilling motion into a still image (a topic that is discussed here), which may be illustrated with this very early strip spanking panel of 1918,
where the artist, A.E. Hayward (1884-1939), captures the speed with which the girl is kicking her feet by rendering them in double vision.
Why such frenetic motion? Because she would dearly like to escape but, if she’s properly positioned with her feet well off the ground, there’s no way she can get down.
So the energy of a spanking starts with the manual impact on the shapely round target area at the center, then travels upwards to the reaction, both emotional and vocal, exhibited in the region of her face, and then right back down to the other end, where her fluttering legs are the only resistance she can offer. So it is by attending to the extremities that we avoid ‘objectification’ and afford a spanked girl her own identity and means of self-expression. Except that, in this situation and position, as the sci-fi cliché always reminds us, resistance is futile.
In the Fox musical Are You There? (1930), Olga Baclanova plays Countess Helenka, who is scheming to marry the elderly Duke of St Pancras.
But she isn’t the exiled Russian Countess she claims to be: she’s really a crooked Folies Bergere dancer out to fleece him of his money. The Duke’s son and heir (John Garrick) is so worried about the affair that he hires a private eye, Shirley Travis (Beatrice Lillie), to investigate her. When Helenka is laid up in bed after a supposed riding accident, Shirley poses as a nurse to attend her and administer some therapeutic treatment, which she says will do Helenka a lot of good…
Before we delve into the exact nature of ‘Nurse’ Shirley’s ‘cure’, we should fill in a little background about the movie itself. It was panned at press previews (some thought it so bad that it could only be a British picture!), and the studio responded by delaying its release for six months while they cut its running time by nearly a third, removing most of the songs to make it into a straight comedy; it was then offered only to second-rate movie theaters, and duly went down to obscurity. A print is hard to find today, but a complete soundtrack for the shortened version is available here.
This means you can at least hear the ‘medical treatment’ being meted out, and the set photographer assists us a little further:
It seems to consist mainly of the repeated application of the flat of the hand to the seat of the pajama pants!
A woman is especially vulnerable when in bed, though the question of exactly how unprotected she is beneath her pajamas, an issue with especial relevance to our core subject, will vary from woman to woman and possibly also depending on when it is in the month. However, many actresses playing bed scenes routinely do wear knickers under their nightwear, as may be apparent from a close look here:
(In case you don’t know who she is, it’s the young Penelope Wilton in nightie and white panties, playing Desdemona in Othello. It was not supposed to be a modern-dress production, but the interloping 20th-century garment is even more obvious on the video than on the screenshot here!)
Hell, movie actresses sometimes even wore panties under their panties – as glimpsed here in an unexpected costume revelation from Paulette Goddard during the catfight in The Women (1939),
where you can see functional private panties beneath the decorative costume pair.
And that’s probably all for the best, because, as we know very well, actresses face an uncommon ordeal when making spanking scenes, and need all the protection they can get – especially when it’s a pajama spanking! We can make the point with reference to one of the more substantial screen spankings of the 1930s, administered to Evelyn Venable in Streamline Express (1935):
She plays Patricia Wallis, a stage actress who runs out on her new Broadway show, making her escape on a transcontinental sleeper express bound for California. Victor Jory plays Jimmy Hart, the director of the play and the architect of her stardom, who manages to get aboard the train posing as a steward. He confronts her in her luxurious suite, and in her silken pajamas, and a quarrel leads to what seems to have been first scripted as a pillow fight, but which became, before the cameras rolled, a sound spanking with her own slipper:
It clocks in at 17 seconds and 12 smacks, and gave the publicity department a lot of useful fuel:
‘He Spanked Her With A Number Three Shoe And They Found They Loved Each Other’
Many papers ran a story about the incongruity of how Jimmy only consciously realizes his love for her when he spanks her, but a few went with a behind-the-scenes anecdote about something that puzzled the wardrobe mistress.
During shooting, a call-boy arrived at the wardrobe department to say that a single felt slipper was urgently required on set. Why did they want just one, wondered the confused costumier: were they trying to find comfortable footwear for a one-legged actor? No, explained the runner: they had just done a phenomenal number of takes of the spanking scene (some papers said twelve, some said thirteen, even though they were all drawing on exactly the same paragraph written by the studio publicists), but they were having no luck getting it right.
The director, Leonard Fields, decided they needed to do some intensive rehearsal before they used any more film stock on yet another take. Miss Venable had a request. She had just been spanked rather a lot with a hard leather slipper; even if it was only twelve takes and not thirteen, it would still have been around 144 smacks! Could they please rehearse with a felt one instead, until the scene was ready for the cameras? And since she was wearing flimsy pajamas, with or without panties underneath, she wasn’t being unreasonable!
Our attention now turns to Anne Nagel.
She’s the one who’s prone there. Each of the upright ones also had a spanking in her filmography: they’re Marie Wilson and Carol Hughes. But for present purposes we’re interested in A Bride for Henry (1937),
in which Anne plays New York socialite Sheila Curtis, described in the course of the film as ‘a spoilt, wilful, headstrong brat’. Her fiancé Eric (Henry Mollison) doesn’t turn up to the wedding (it later emerges that he overslept after his stag night), so, to spite him, and not let the wedding plans go to waste, she instead marries her lawyer, Henry Tuttle (Warren Hull). He accepts because he has been secretly in love with her for years and can scarcely believe his luck; the press later reports it as the swift altar wooing of a ‘modern cave man’. But she frankly tells him that the marriage was ‘a purely social gesture to save a purely social situation’ and that she will be getting a quick Reno divorce later. On arrival at the honeymoon hotel, she further makes it clear that the bed is hers and the couch, his; and when Eric arrives, it looks as if this is going to be a ‘three-cornered honeymoon’ – with Henry unambiguously the superfluous number three.
Henry decides to make a go of the marriage, which first entails persuading Sheila that it is something more than a sham in the first place. Since she’s spending most of her time with Eric, he makes sure that she sees him with other women, including being mobbed by bottomy bathing beauties at the hotel swimming pool.
Towards the end of the film, her affections are turning. The sight of Henry dancing at a party with someone else’s wife (who happens to be an old friend of his) proves too much: ‘It’s long past my bedtime,’ she says, and flounces off to have a good cry and get into her pajamas.
When Eric comes to find her, it is obvious that Henry is the one she now wants. Eric takes it badly. Very badly:
‘You know, what you need is a jolly good spanking,’ he tells her – but before his hand descends, she’s saved by the arrival of Henry.
Henry sees off the would-be assailant with a display of masculinity she evidently finds irresistible, and she positively refuses to go to Reno. She is the bride for Henry after all.
The point of the pajamas, never explicitly spelt out, is how they affect the tone of the scene. The film is quite particular, in a subtle way, about modesty barriers and how they don’t operate quite as expected in this odd marital scenario: there’s a latent but palpable sense of embarrassment when Henry sees his new wife unpacking her suitcase and handling her underwear, and he is kept on the wrong side of a closed door whenever she is in bed or in déshabille. So it feels ‘wrong’ for Eric, who isn’t her husband, to be in the room with her when she’s in her nightwear, and when he tries to spank her, it’s almost as if he had raised her skirt to do it on her panties, only without the overt, censor-provoking sexual suggestiveness that would entail.
In short, pajamas are intimate, something that might serve as a warning to the French actress Sophie Dsmarets,
or might, if she weren’t reputed to have aimée la fessée so much that she sought out roles in which it would happen to her. The only instance I’ve ever been able to track down is the comedy Demain, Nous Divorçons (We’ll Get Divorced Tomorrow; 1951).
That’s demain as in the Spanish mañana, something that’s constantly intended but always deferred. Sophie plays Colette Blanchet, Jean Desailly is her husband Max, and they are a couple who, to their lawyer’s frustration, keep threatening to divorce one another and never follow through, until the arrival of an anonymous letter raises the stakes.
The film must have struck Mlle Desmarets as a plum job, because in it she gets spanked twice – in two different pairs of pajamas. First, Max carries her over to the shower to douse her ill temper, spanking her as he goes:
And later there’s an extended and rather violent bedroom fight that includes an over-the-knee interlude:
It’s a messy and chaotic spanking, but unmistakably husband-and-wife territory,
whereas our final example is anything but. The lady at risk this time is Lili Murati,
who plays Julia, the spoiled, temperamental heroine of the Hungarian comedy Végre… (Finally…; 1941). She impulsively runs out on her fiancé and, after her car breaks down, is rescued by two motor mechanics and has to spend the night at their humble cottage in a pair of borrowed men’s pajamas.
Her two hosts react to her in exactly opposite ways: Peter (Antal Pager) despises her irresponsibility, but Tibor (Tivadar Bilicsi) falls in love with her. When she refuses to abide by the house’s ‘early to rise’ custom, Peter takes away her clothes: she won’t need them if she’s going to loaf in bed all day. She does get to keep her undies, as we see in a later scene when she strips off the pajamas to do her exercises.
Later on, still in the pajamas, she has an altercation with Peter,
which climaxes with him picking her up for a spanking,
She doesn’t actually get it, perhaps because she’s struggling too much, or perhaps because in the end he just can’t be bothered.
And that’s not the only thing that defines a kind of vanishing point here. There’s very little sense of an intimate secret being exposed: they’re not her pajamas, they’re not feminine pajamas, they’re not worn directly next to the skin… They might almost as well be outer garments, albeit without the elegance to which Julia is accustomed. It’s the spanking itself that’s the real indignity here – and she doesn’t even get that!
It’s time for that perennial Latvian midsummer tradition, a performance of Rudolf Blaumanis’ play Skroderdienas Silmacos (The Tailor’s Days on the Farm), whose many pleasures include the spanking of Pindacisa by her husband Pindaks. It’s generally done with full European ceremony:
In other words, with her skirt raised. But some productions will err on the side of modesty, and interpose a petticoat,
while others, which do go all the way to bloomers, will err on the side of severity, moving the scene uncomfortably from spanking into the vicinity of beating. Here’s a case in point from a 2023 prouction in which Daiga Krūmiņa was whacked by Juris Gasparovičs:
In olden days, documents used to be authenticated by affixing a wax seal, which turned into an ink stamp as technology marched on. Before the end of the 17th century, the mail had found a new application for the device in the form of the postmark,
and by the end of the 19th, vulcanized rubber made it possible for custom-made stamps to simplify all kinds of human labor: why write out approval in longhand when you can simply stamp it on?
But stamping could itself became a tediously repetitive production-line job. This is the foundation of Nicholas Salaman’s television play The Walls Came Tumbling Down (April 23, 1966), in which the timid clerk Harold Crombie (Robert Lang) spends his working life stamping paperwork as ‘Seen and Approved’. The play’s pivotal scene also involves the typist Samantha (Elizabeth Valentine),
whose fashionable skirt length means that something else is often seen around the office. And in a moment of random inventiveness, Harold uses his stamp to let it be known that what has been seen is also approved!
Approval isn’t forthcoming from her mother (Rita Webb), who demands that the firm’s managing director inspects Harold’s handiwork (and Samantha’s panties). ‘Indelible ink on her drawers and tears in her eyes!’ she protests.
Fortunately for Harold, the boss does approve: he thinks it’s an act of creative genius, and lays plans to manufacture and market panties with the ‘Seen and Approved’ slogan!
All this seems uncannily reminiscent of Closely Watched Trains, the 1966 film version of Bohumil Hrabal’s 1965 novel, in which a railway worker threatens a pretty telegraphist with a spanking, and gives it to her, slowly and erotically, with an ink stamp on her bare bottom.
After which her mother objects, too, and shows off the effects to the appropriate authorities.
The iconic image of the stamped bottom is widely reproduced in posters for the film,
in artwork alluding to it,
and in stage versions, like this rather chaste one from 2021 with Lucie Okonova:
The image, albeit not the ink, is now indelibly associated with the author himself:
But the apparent connection with The Walls Came Tumbling Down cannot be anything but a coincidence, because at the time the play was broadcast, the film was in the process of being made, and the first English translation of the novel didn’t appear until 1968: there’s simply no realistic possibility of either influencing the other across the Iron Curtain.
So maybe coming up with the idea didn’t take quite such a unique act of creativity as we might have thought, whether on the part of Bohumil Hrabal or Harold Crombie. In practice, it crops up in other unrelated contexts too. In 1970s Scotland, for instance, it was an initiation ritual for female officers in the detective branch of the Glasgow police:
‘They would put you over a desk, lift up your skirt and use the office stamp on your buttocks.’
That’s not something that anyone would try today, of course. Unless they’re in the Czech Republic and planning the 2011 promo campaign for the energy drink Extasy,
so long as they also have a few girls who are willing to drop their pants and display the logo:
Or unless they’re advertising a Brno coffee shop in 2019,
or getting themselves tattooed in 2023:
(100% Natural Material!)
But remember, it’s not just the Czechs who go for this imagery.
Lady patrons at the Orphanage Brewery and Bar in Arizona can have their bare bottoms stamped while they enjoy their drink,
though the bar makes it very clear that an ass stamp will not be accepted as proof of identity. And in the same vein, woe be unto you if you try to get into Turkey after losing your passport, as this toon from 1978 makes clear:
And if an ink-stamp won’t do the trick, there’s always a more permanent way of dealing with runaway girls:
Naughty schoolgirls will often feel like making some spectacular gesture to mark the end of school.
It is worth noticing that not all naughty schoolgirls are equally naughty.
Some are quite extraordinarily naughty, and indeed rude, despite the more modest cut of their panties.
And here are some of the very naughtiest, mooning the headmistress as they graduate in the final scene of the 1983 comedy Private School:
If they don’t look all that naughty, it’s because that’s only the publicity still, to attract prospective moviegoers and warn off the easily offended. Here’s what they do in the movie itself:
But there’s one vital thing these girls need to remember: school finishes later for them than it does for their well-behaved peers, because naughty schoolgirls will generally end up in… detention!
If they’re desperate to get away in good time, there is an alternative…
And even in detention, that’s never very far away,
with a severe risk of … escalation!
And speaking of escalation, there’s another way things can get worse,
and worse…
and worse!
And for a girl at Catholic school, with strict nuns for teachers, it may not stop at that:
All of this ought to serve as a severe warning to abide by the school rules, including those about wearing the correct school uniform.
But don’t forget, we’re dealing with naughty schoolgirls, who will always flout the rules almost by default.
And that may be something they eventually have cause to regret,
even when teacher isn’t in holy orders!
What we have seen so far shows the ‘naughty schoolgirl’ mainly as a trope in various kinds of erotica, playful and otherwise, from pinup photography to neo-spicy toons to burlesque acts. Nowadays it’s rightly restricted to the world of the imagination, but it was not always so. The scenario has authentic roots in actual and accepted educational and disciplinary practice back in ‘old normal’ days with ‘old school’ teachers. And just to prove it, here’s an example: a 1969 yearbook entry from a Chicago Catholic high school, recording an 18-year-old girl’s abiding memory of her biology teacher.
‘Will always remember when Father Wormser spanked me over his knee.’
And this wasn’t something that happened when she was a little kid in kindergarten: it was a high school incident that took place when she wasn’t much younger than she is in the photograph…
So it may not be altogether surprising to learn that the spanked schoolgirl had already found her way into the mainstream media at a time when the kind of modern erotic imagery we’ve been looking at either didn’t exist or was buried deep underground as a furtive, frowned-upon secret. For in 1938 anyone could go and see the ballet All for Love without a scintilla of shame.
It was the creation of the Swiss comic dancer Trudi Schoop, who was often described as a female Charlie Chaplin for her skills as a mime artist and silent comedienne.
Her ballet, which opened in Vienna in December 1937 and toured America the following year, presented a series of episodes from the life of its central character Catherine, played by Trudi herself: it was effectively a series of danced comedy sketches, of which the second was entitled ‘In School’ and featured Catherine as, yes, a naughty schoolgirl. And yes, she was headed the way you think…
The teacher (Edith Carola) has trouble keeping her class in line, but at least there is a temporary break in the pandemonium when the school board comes on an inspection visit. Afterwards, normal chaos is restored. Catherine writes the word ‘love’ on the blackboard, which might seem innocuous to modern eyes, or even cute, but had sexy connotations back then. Told by teacher to erase it, she refuses, and the upshot is a good spanking.
One reviewer described the spanking as the highlight of the entire ballet, and it’s still just possible we may get a chance to see it for ourselves. There is a 3-minute film extract in existence somewhere (though no record of where, nor which bit of the ballet it preserves), and there are numerous photographs held in the archives of the University of California, Irvine – though alas, they aren’t easily accessible outside California…
Naturally spanking naughty schoolgirls has since become a much less innocent affair, not necessarily because it might constitute abuse on the teacher’s part. Our final example puts a different spin on the problem. It’s from Forbidden Love (2012), a Japanese portmanteau film telling the stories of different kinds of taboo relationship. One concerns schoolgirl Kimika,
who quite deliberately gets a score of 0 out of 50 on a test, an achievement which earns her the following from her male teacher:
Even with the skirt raised, this is a straightforward, well-deserved schoolgirl punishment. But its effect on the participants makes it also the catalyst for the story’s contribution to the movie’s overall theme: forbidden love!
I don’t know whether anything like this still goes on in Japanese schools, but it’s probably for the best that, in our western cultures, it’s now primarily a role-playing game between people who are already established as lovers, and a pleasant, perhaps mildly comical fantasy for anyone else who cares to indulge. School’s out – and spanking’s out of school!
Where should you go if you want to have a really spanking night out?
Some party venues have promising publicity, using retro imagery,
modern imagery,
even bespoke imagery…
Some actively promise a good spanking for lady patrons who can produce the right documentation, like this Los Angeles club in 1998:
And some will even set aside a dedicated spanking room where they can go and get it:
All of which is enjoyable enough to see, but maybe not much use if you want a piece of the action but are in a different part of the world. So if you’re trying to find some spanking-friendly nightlife near you, here are 24 possibilities spread across seven countries in four continents and a number of different time zones.
In Atlanta, Georgia, you could have gone to Shelter, which opened in 2009 and operated for five or six years, but is sadly now closed. And if you did go, wore a pretty dress and got a spanking… well, hopefully you also wore your best pair of panties!
Still in the Atlanta area, Dragon Fire Events runs nightclub parties with some stunning laser light shows, though we may be slightly more interested in certain other things that are showing:
In Chicago, the Debonair Social Club sadly closed down in 2023 after 17 years. It was no longer financially viable and had recently been disrupted by a shooting incident that brought the police in. Naturally spanking incidents were somewhat easier to live down:
In Dallas, Texas, however, the Church is still going strong. Founded in 1994, the Goth nightclub is reputed to be one of the best nights out in the city, and evidently does a nifty trade in hard spanking:
Want some more? The annual Dallas Fetish Ball is likely to be the place for you.
In London, England, Club Rub, which opened in 1997 and closed in 2021, billed itself as ‘London’s friendliest nightclub’.
How friendly?
Well, it looks pretty intimate to me:
At the first weekend of every month in Los Angeles, it’s time for Club Anarchy:
At other times it’ll have to be The LASH for you. Don’t worry, it stands for Los Angeles Social House, but don’t imagine that naughty girls get away completely scot-free there:
If you want to see (or get) a good spanking at London Poly, make sure you’re in Munich and not London:
One of the great kinky party events in New York City was hosted by the Baroness, proprietress of a latex emporium.
The events started in 1999 and ran until 2021, when the Baroness closed the shop and retired to France. And a lot of bottoms suffered gloriously in the course of those decades.
There were naughty schoolgirls,
strict nurses,
importunate undressers,
and one lady who made the crucial mistake of coming between a gentleman and his evening paper:
At least she remembered her pretty panties!
Also in New York, and also closing down in 2021, was the promisingly named Paddles, though at least some of the spankings were done by hand:
Down under in Perth, Western Australia, Club Freak prides itself on being pansexual and kink-friendly.
Can’t get in there? Then you could always go to… Spank. Wonder what interesting things might happen there?
It’s what the pretentious call nominal determinism…
And for very naughty girls:
In Phoenix, Arizona, Cupcake began partying in 2012, and there were monthly themed fetish parties until the final event in 2023.
At the renowned Studio 54 in Prague, it might not be prudent to risk a thong, even if you started out wearing pants on top:
San Francisco‘s venerable DNA Lounge opened in 1985 and is still going strong,
whereas in Sydney, the ‘journeys into the erotic underworld’ offered by Shot with Desire came to an end some years ago.
In Tel Aviv, the saying is, ‘Good Girls Go To Heaven, Bad Girls Go To Dungeon‘.
So what exactly do bad girls get up to in Dungeon, the nightclub that opened in 2003? Well, if they have their panties on…
Some may use their coverage to attempt precautions against the inevitable:
How futile!
For those in Vancouver seeking some summer heat in the right area, the Vancouver Fetish Weekend is a great opportunity:
And wherever you are in Vermont, it’s well worth a trip to Burlington’s Green Mountain Cabaret, where there’s always something nice to be seen:
Don’t worry, dear: yes, you’re about to have your bottom smacked and yes, you forgot your dress, but at least you remembered one vital thing: your pretty party panties!
Vanilla Spanking 