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Old 12-19-2010, 02:51 PM
John Smith 2010 John Smith 2010 is offline
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Kink and the City - A new Spanking Book!

Good evening to all you fellow enthusiasts. I have recently had published “Kink and the City – An Englishman in New York”, a book about that which we all love so much....spanking. Accordingly I thought I’d wade in here and give it a plug. I've attached a pic of the embarrassment free cover.

It was written to illustrate that us spankers, in the main, are pretty regular people. And that very few individuals involved in our eclectic pursuits are mad, challenged, twisted, perverted, unstable, drug addicted or total loonies. For example I’ve been an enthusiast most of my life and yet only four of the adjectives above apply to me……..OK, maybe five.

But seriously. I took the time out to try and write something that was genuinely informative but with a view to coming at the subject from its more amusing aspects. Lets face it, though we all take these things very seriously they can be funny, as are some of the people one meets along the line.

So hopefully it’ll raise a smile but it’s also an honest account of my own experiences since arriving in New York. I’ve had the privilege of meeting and playing with some truly fantastic characters over here and made some lifelong friends. I’ve also encountered scenarios which have made me question why I even bothered trying to pursue my interests. I’m sure we’ve all been there.

If you secure a copy and simply just enjoy the read and hopefully smile it’ll make the effort worth while. It’s listed on Amazon as a paperback and as a Kindle download, together with a whole bunch of reviews, which should give you a feel as to what to expect.

So here's an extract which I hope you all enjoy........

You’ll recall at our first encounter Jeanine had bemoaned the fact she’d never been dealt with by a ‘truly cruel woman’. Despite her brief alcoholic escapade she’d subsequently proved to be an intelligent and lively player and we’d become firm friends. At one of our encounters I’d briefly alluded to one of my own sessions with the fearsome and extraordinarily beautiful Domme Jackeline and she’d seized upon it like a desert locked man encountering a jug of iced water. I nimbly defected a barrage of questions stating simply. “She’s real, extremely private and absolutely not for the faint hearted.” This was like a red rag to a bull to Jeanine as I knew it would be and so, on her next trip to NYC, at her request I’d made the arrangements. I’d telephoned Jackeline saying. “Jeanine’s a genuine enthusiast but she’s got a bit of an attitude.” There was a brief silence “She won’t try that with me I assure you,” she snapped. With a wry smile I called the object of our conversation and told her it was ‘on’.

On the appointed evening the breathless and excited recipient arrived at my apartment in a heightened state. She was clearly nervous but trying her very best not to show it and as a result she was enjoying herself hugely. Her mixture of fear and anticipation was palpable and she covered up by making small comments laced with unconvincing bravado. I’d honed her senses even further the evening beforehand by sadistically calling her saying. “Look, you don’t have to do this to prove anything. I can easily cancel this now and I won’t think anything less of you. This woman is very severe and she’ll go all the way. I’m not really sure you’re ready for it.” There was a silence. “It’s OK,” I said gently, “I’ll cancel it.” “No no no,” she blustered, “I’m ready, really I am,” as I knew she would. She was almost pleading bless her. Now though, the hour was nearly at hand and she was like a cat on a hot tin roof. I’d never seen her like this. When my doorbell went she literally leapt up off her chair. “Face the other way and put your hands on your head,” I told her. And with that I let Domme Jackeline in.

She ducked into the bathroom to change while Jeanine quaked with her nose pressed against the wall. The apartment was a quiet as a complaints department in a parachute factory. A click of a lock heralded Jackelines exit from the bathroom and she walked into the lounge resplendent once again in her body hugging once piece black dress, stockinged legs, high heels and immaculate brunette bob. Stunning. “Turn around Jeannine,” she said quietly and her victim complied. Her face was a picture. Stark terror. Her face also reflected something else equally interesting. Jeannine was a rabid heterosexual but upon seeing Jackeline she’d instantly fallen in lust, a fact she shamefacedly confirmed later.

Suddenly to Jackeline and I’s confusion Jeannine was fumbling in her bag. She withdrew a beautifully wrapped small box and offered it up. “Chocolates,” she stammered, “I thought you might like them.” This was not the Jeanine I knew. Mind you I wasn’t the 'me' I knew when I was submitting to this woman either. A hint of a smile passed the dominatrices lips, “Thank you,” she breathed, taking the gift and depositing it gently on the bed. “Now,” she continued, “I want you to get on your hands and knees and symbolically kiss each of my shoes.” A look of horror flashed across Jeannine’s face. “Now,” snapped Jackeline, “Don’t keep me waiting.” In a heartbeat this proud non-submissive Amazonian meekly complied. Perfect. “Very well,” she continued, “Fetch me the dragon cane.” There were apparently going to be no warm up spankings this evening.

A moment or so later Jeanine was bent over the side of my sofa bereft of her skirt and underwear. Cane in hand Jackeline bent over her victim and spoke softly. “We’ll start with a hundred I think. I want you to count and thank me for every stroke. Do I make myself absolutely clear?” Jeanine nodded rapidly, “I can’t hear you,” prompted her tormentor. “Yes Mistress,” she stammered. With that her chastiser stood up, raised the cane theatrically and brought it down with a resounding crack over her supplicants rear. A livid red tramline appeared and Jeannine gasped. A moment later she said it. “One Mistress, thank you Mistress.” And so it went on…for a hundred strokes. Magnificent. A word which applies to both players.

Once again, a non-kinkster won’t understand this comment but the true kinkster will. This was totally beautiful to watch. Jeannine needed everything she had to endure her chastisement. Every part of her body language and exhalation of breath demonstrated this. Whilst you could see her struggling you could also feel her determination, her determination to get through this and not to disappoint her cool dispassionate mistress. Equally, Jackeline understood this and used her skill to challenge her charge, knowing exactly when to back off and exactly when to push, in essence easing her through the ordeal by the varying of cadence and severity. She was to the cane what Angelique was to the single tail. Its total mistress. It was a privilege to watch.

When the caning was over Jeanine didn't even know what day of the week it was. Jackeline went through various different straps and finished with a light paddle having given Jeanine exactly what she said she wanted. The experience of being dealt with by a genuine sadist. A sadist she may have been but she was an artiste also. As always there wasn’t a single low or high blow and not a wrap in sight. As Jeanine was heard to bluster afterwards. “God, that woman’s got skill sets up the ying yang.” I’m sure this was a compliment.

Upon revealing that the ordeal was over her charge stood up with a flushed face, a sheepish grin and a bottom which would have defrosted a sixteen ounce steak in a block of ice. She thanked Jackeline profusely, thanks that she received with a modest smile. This modest smile was rapidly followed by a wicked grin. She turned to me “Right,” she commanded, “It’s your turn now. Strip.” “What?” I squealed, “We never talked about this?” “Don’t make me tell you a second time,” she chided. “Do it!” Jeanine couldn't believe what she was hearing. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing either! Her face broke into a broad grin as I miserably removed my clothes and bent over the side of the sofa as ordered. A breathtakingly rapid fifty stroke caning followed after which she supplemented with the most brutal paddling I’ve ever received, pushing me the closest I’ve ever been to calling off a scene. I couldn't though; I didn’t want to disappoint my tormenter. The marks lasted for almost six months.

Within five minutes of finishing, our chastiser was off into the night. I’d originally envisaged her leaving and my talking with Jeanine as she lay on her stomach trying to process what had just happened to her. The reality was she left both of us lying on our stomachs trying to process what had just happened to both of us. God the woman was a bitch and we loved it.
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  #2  
Old 12-26-2010, 10:16 PM
John Smith 2010 John Smith 2010 is offline
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Join Date: Dec 2010
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Online interview

Thought you'd be interested to know that I was recently interviewed about the book.

The interview is posted online at masocast.com You can listen online or get it as a podcast or free download.
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