Northern Spanking have a new video online, featuring two of my favourite spanking models – Amelia Jane Rutherford and Zoe Montana – appearing together in the same film for, I think, the first time. It also stars Paul Kennedy, Stephen Lewis (flagellant monk par excellence!), and Zoe’s husband Nick. I really like watching real couples interact on film. Plus a historical context with flowing medieval costumes. What’s not to like?
The scene represents a public fantasy; a sort of punishment free-for-all. Zoe is displayed in the ‘town square’ and a herald announces that all whom this wench has wronged should come forward and deal with her as they see fit. Hot. The scenario is immediately made more edgy by the presence of Amelia’s character, the virtuous lady spectator whose role in events is unclear. Her glee pointedly contrasts with Zoe’s suffering, and her prurient smirks and faux innocence (“‘Tis my sad duty to bare her wicked flesh!”) made me grin from the offset.
When it comes down to it, this film is NSI ham at its best. Amelia-Jane strikes saintly poses in the corners. Everyone looks fabulous in their costumes (and we get a rare glimpse of Paul without his glasses!). The actors deliver snort-inducing lines with exuberantly serious dramatic flair. (At one point Amelia’s shrieks of outrage max out the treble on my speakers, but her facial expressions throughout are so entertaining that I didn’t mind one jot). And as a straightforward public humiliation/victim fantasy, it’s extremely appealing.
Catch the full video and photostory at Northern Spanking
For Valentine’s Day I gave Tom a subscription to Restrained Elegance.¹ I gave it to him early the last time he was at mine, so we could look at bondage porn in privacy. I can highly recommend this site. It’s not entirely our cup of tea as porn – the bondage and restraint are aesthetically beautiful, but from our point of view they’re more “set dressing” for an imagined CP scene than porn in their own right. But the photography is some of the highest calibre I’ve ever seen, the models are enviably flexible (if all something on the skinny side) and the technical quality of the films is pretty much unrivalled in the spanking scene. In terms of photography, editing, lighting, use of music, these films look more like music videos than what we tend to expect of porn.
My favourite out of all the contents I’ve seen so far is a short film from 2007 called “Slave Dance”, starring Ariel Anderssen (better known to us as Amelia Jane Rutherford). In order to fully explain why I like it so much I have to spoil the “twist”, but it’s quite an old film, so I hope Ariel and Hywel won’t mind.
In May 2007, Ariel entered her probationary period as the Restrained Elegance resident slavegirl. One of her assignments was to create a slave dance incorporating the slavegirl positions she was learning, and displaying her body in as refined and submissive a way as possible. (As Hwyel says ominously at the start of the video, because this is her first assignment it is an “unbound” dance. If she’s done a “bound” dance since, it hasn’t been released.) Ariel writes,
I loved choreography when I was a dancer, but that was a while ago, and making up a dance from scratch challenged me in a way I wasn’t used to. I liked the idea of the dance being slow and ritualistic, the way I could imagine a geisha or a harem-slave performing for an invited audience.
As well as being ballet-trained, she has worked as a professional choreographer in the past – and it shows. Combined with her impressive slave training and Hwyel’s production talents, this is one of the most extraordinary pieces of film I have ever seen.
It’s short – only 8 minutes 40 seconds. The dance (and the track it’s set to) takes less than half that long, but is performed twice. The music is haunting, primal, mystic vocals over industrial bass. Perfect for the context (and reminiscent of the bellydancing music I once saw Niki Flynn dancing to. Is it a standard genre?)
The dance begins in the studio, with a very young looking Ariel wearing her high posture collar and a silk kimono. As she dances, the film cuts between shots of her performing the same dance in four other locations and outfits. Inevitably, knowing Hwyel, she’s barefoot in all of them, and may be wearing the collar in all of them, although it’s not easy to tell. They were probably all (apart from the studio) filmed at the same location, but the effect enriches the dance enormously. The cuts between shots, in time with the slow, evocative music, add impact to Ariel’s movements and display her in a variety of beautiful settings.
After the dance is finished, Hwyel ramps up the tension by putting nipple clamps on Ariel and instructing her to perform the dance again. Ariel is aghast. “I can’t dance in these!” she cries desperately, eyes wide with pain. “I can’t!” Who cares if she’s acting? The effect is primeval. I found myself shuddering with empathy, and my body answered with a tremor of excitement.
The second dance is filmed entirely in the studio. Ariel’s face, voice and body are, as ever, amazingly expressive – you can see every wince, hear every caught breath. Her dancing is notably less steady the second time. You can hear her gasp in pain as she stretches. By the time she’s halfway through, there’s a sheen of sweat on her pretty face, and you can see the pain in her eyes. The most dramatic – and physically taxing – moves come at the most dramatic points in the music, and as she cries out in the new agony inflicted by the new positions, the music swells and surges in perfect counterpoint. The synchrony between dance, sensation and soundtrack means that the music naturally complements the emotional curve of the scene. The last section of the dance is the most physically demanding (and sexually explicit) of all. By the end she is crying and whimpering in pain and effort. The combination of her vulnerability and submissive obedience with her poise, grace and astounding talent as a dancer is incredibly hot. As a dance and a film, this is beautiful and unusual – and, through one simple twist, it becomes one of the most intense D/s scenes I’ve ever seen on film.
Watching it for the first time, I was breathless, heart pounding, sympathetic tears pricking my eyes. I don’t think a porn film has ever made me cry before. But it was also seriously hot.
The dance is just astonishing, showing off her flexibility (and terrifyingly bendy shoulders – I will never be able to manage half of these postures) to extraordinary effect. As dance, as choreography, as cinematography, as an incredibly intense D/s scene – this little film deserves to be famous among kinksters everywhere.
1. Which doesn’t seem to have an affiliates scheme; I encourage you to do the same because it’s good, not because I have any financial interest in you doing so.
One of the first things I did when I got back home, of course, was download all the latest material from Northern Spanking. This has provided me with:
1. Enough delightful porn to cheer me up at the end of a long day – and rekindle my somewhat-neglected kink;
2. Blog material for at least a week – because of course, I have to review it for you and let you know what I think, don’t I?
Now, I don’t normally write about films before they’ve been fully released – when something is published in sequential clips, I’d rather wait and see the whole thing before expressing an opinion. But this evening I’m going to have to make an exception. You see, I have just watched the first two parts of reality TV extravaganza Strictly Come Spanking – a production so stimulating that I couldn’t help make over-excited notes as I watched.
So, for your delectation and delight, here is my unedited, real-time live-blogged commentary on Strictly Come Spanking – parts 1 and 2:
– Strictly Come Spanking: ONLY NORTHERN COULD DO THIS
– Hilarious intro sequence! Is that Paul Kennedy I see sporting a rather camp quiff?
– Fantastic intro by Amy Hunter. I sense a presenter career in the making! Bit heavy on the artificial smoke…
– OMG THE JUDGES – LOVE IT! Actually crying with laughter!
– Stephen and Leia. I hadn’t realised before how tall Stephen is – he dominates Leia even in heels. Very debonair! Love the ballet poses, and the slightly mincing motions as he starts to spank.
– Actually I think all spankings should take place to cheery big band music, judges watching with pursed lips.
– “We’ve practiced … ALL WEEK.” Hee!
– Love everything about Tess – the hammy faces, the interrupting, the standing in front of Leia …
– LOVE the score card paddles!
– OMG BELLA RIGATONI’S ACCENT!!!!! The animosity between her and Aileen Philpotts!
– “SERMOULDERING. YOU EENGLEESH ARLOT.” Hang on, is she Italian or German? Or French?
– “HAND MET BOTTOM FLESH LIKE BOTTOM MEETING HOT TOAST.” Eileen can’t actually keep a straight face. Or – hang on – is that a flirtation I’m sensing between her and Bella?
– Okay, Amelia-Jane and Hwyel. Oooh. Figureskating spanking, without skates! Punctuated by breathy gasps and tossed hair. Slightly uncontrolled, but definitely SERMOULDERING. The flamenco music suits well.
– Like me, Amelia has to go slightly onto her knees to be passionately kissed by her Dom. I can attest that this has its advantages.
– Goodness me, a slight wardrobe malfunction! Was that deliberate?
– Hrm, judge catfight. Is Craig Breakfast-Cereal going to end up with one or both of the female judges over his knee?
– Oh, Amelia is entirely delectable. I don’t know how she does it. Mmmmmm.
– Haha, love that Eileen is the first judge to applaud!
– “Panting away, like something just off the Serengeti there, aren’t we!” I think Amy was born to play Tess. Ahahaha – she agrees with me about the deliberate wardrobe malfunction!
– Amelia hiding her laughter by pretending to cry. Smooth. In the inset she looks entirely innocent, like someone off a BBC period drama.
– Craig to Bella: “What is this that comes out of your MOUTH?” Bella: “ALL I WANTED TO BE WERE HER THROBBING BUTTOCKS. THEY WERE LIKE A COUPLE OF FERRETS IN A LEETLE BAG.”
– Aileen: “like an eager schoolboy sucking up his first banana milkshake through a straw.” WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. Impressive ability on the part of all three judges to keep a straight face, though.
End of part one! THIS IS OFFICIALLY MY FAVOURITE SPANKING FILM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AS OF THIS DAY.
– Part 2! Syra Garcia and Paul Kennedy. Ooh, and some rather cheeky jazz. Smiles all round! Nice little bottom wiggle there from Syra. Not sure about the hand-wavy dance moves though.
– Oh, I get it! It’s a reference to the golden age of magic shows!
– Or possibly silent films.
– Or … pinups?
– Aw, missed opportunity there to get the bottom in the spotlight.
– Cute wave from Paul at the end there!
– Tess: “That really … went, didn’t it? Didn’t it just … go, ladies and gentleman?” *snort*
– Aileen: “Like clover honey dripping slowly from a Swedish pine.” WHAT.
– I cannot get enough of the way that Tess is compelled to spank herself every time she pronounces “Strictly Come Spanking”, however serious the context.
– Ooooh, adverts! The Restrained Elegance one for the Medieval Epic is rather fantastic.
– Irelynn: I have no words. No words.❤
– Michael Stamp in – a HAIR ADVERT! Why does he sound slightly Australian? He suits the white boy fro though…
– Back to the final! How I can stand the suspense??
Parts 3-5 will be released on NSI soon. Lucy McLean informs me that “there’s even funnier stuff to come.” Can you wait? I know I can’t.
There’s so much I want to tell you, but my head is so full I don’t know where to begin.
I’ll start with yesterday. We didn’t make it to the kinky party in the end. Tom was held at work for a series of frustrating and bizarre reasons, and by the time he got home he was (understandably) too exhausted to contemplate getting a train.
I’d been waiting for him all day; not in a needy way, but I liked the idea of spending the day relaxing in his bed, steeping in the memories of the last few intense days and not pushing myself to leave the house or do anything, really, apart from relax and recover. Home was where work and stress resided and I wasn’t ready to face it alone quite yet. So I lazed in bed and read, cooked myself breakfast, drank juice and chatted to his housemates. After I was up, Jimmy came home from his first session as a pro spankee, drained but enjoying the straightforward sense of achievement. We swapped stories and I lent him my aloe vera gel.
When Tom got home that evening, I was in bed, reading and dozing. I was sleepy, but also much more relaxed than I’ve been for most of the last two months. I’m still, however, thinking in film ideas, and during my bath I’d come up with a concept for an erotic D/s clip. While I was enjoying my bathtime fantasy I’d mentally cast Tom as the top, so I showed him the notes I’d written up on my netbook:
Aphrodite rising from the foam
Slow pan/closeups of girl in bath, shot moving up her legs and body to reveal she is tied with wrists above her head – probably to something outside the bath (towel rail?) with her feet at the tap end. Ideally a clawfooted bath long enough to let her stretch out. She is twisting dreamily in the water, covered in bubbles.
Her Master comes in while she is dozing. He is carrying a thin, whippy straight-handled cane; almost a switch. He leans over her in the bath and strokes it over her body. She does not respond much at first, dozing and dreaming, but as he flicks it slowly up her inner thigh she opens her eyes and looks at him. She murmurs, whimpers as he continues to whip her lightly, all the while looking into her eyes. As the strokes get harder she protests a little, not seriously. In response he takes firmly her by the throat, tells her she is his. He switches her breasts, fondling them roughly between strokes with a wet and soapy left hand. She arcs in the water, surrendering.
When her breasts are hot and stinging, and she is flushed with steam and sweat, he carefully twists her onto her front and tells her to keep her bottom lifted out of the water. He canes her slowly, methodically, flicking foam with the tip. Her bottom is a red globe, rising smoothly out of the water and surrounded by white bubbles. She moans and struggles in the slippery bath, her head pillowed on one of her bound arms and her feet kicking. He grabs her ankles in one hand and continues to cane her with the other. When he has whipped her to his liking, he pulls her head back by her hair and kisses her deeply. His hand rubs suds over her welted bottom and he reaches beneath her to caress her breasts…
Tom liked the idea, and we spent a little while debating whether we should try to persuade AJR to model for it (because she looks so pretty covered in bath bubbles, as the above photo from Northern Spanking demonstrates) or whether we should cast ourselves because then the ending could get as steamy as we liked.
I mean, okay, I’m not daft. I knew that showing him my writing would put him in a certain mood, just as I knew that when I asked if he could put aloe on my bruises from the shoot, it would inevitably result in a spanking for me. We were both tired, but we were attuned to each other after the intensity of the last few days, and throbbing with sexual tension. I was still sleepy from my doze after the bath, and physically worn out: when he arranged me over his knee I flopped on either side as if there was no strength in my body. I was so dozy I can’t remember how he began: with his hand? With the little switch/cane that had featured in my fantasy? If he didn’t start with it he certainly moved onto it quickly, playing it over my skin in tiny, precise strokes that spoke to his training as a fencer.
I remember that I had been longing for him so acutely, all the time I’d been at home on my own, that I never resisted. I remember that all the desire to indulge ourselves alone, at home, which had built up while we were shooting exhaled and found release. I know he was gentle, very gentle, wary of my bruises and my physical fatigue, building me up oh-so-slowly with a delicate flickering over my sensitised cheeks. I moaned, I gasped, I purred, I arched my back, every movement slow and languorous.
I can’t remember what order things happened next. He arranged pillows for me in the center of the bed, and I eased myself over them, hands clasped above my head. He continued to switch me for what felt like hours, barely hurting me, dancing the tip over my skin in a pattern that awakened every inch of flesh. When the harder strokes came, on the tops of my thighs and the curve of my bottom, I welcomed them, panting as I lifted my hips for more. He stroked my bottom continually, hand and switch swapping in an endless caress of pleasure and pain.
He got the riding crop out and gave me twenty-four harder strokes, swapping sides every so often and wrapping several stinging strokes around my left cheek, which had been less touched by the shoot. At first he asked me to count the strokes, and thank him for each one: I did so quietly, gratefully, without the usual pause between the stroke and my response. My body arced and twisted as the sensations increased but I never once cried out in fear. Time seemed to lengthen as I floated in a haze of dark, brimming over with peacefulness and trust. He paused after the first six to rub my sore bottom, and in those long seconds I drifted away completely, into another universe, populated by deep currents and sparks of light. When he asked me to remind him of the count so far I was dragged back to my body with a wrench. “Six, sir.” I inhaled. Exhaled. “Sir, is the counting intended to keep me in my body?”
He paused, and I sensed him extending his awareness, understanding my meaning. “No,” he said, very quietly, after a while. “I will keep the count for you. You may fly free, my beloved.”
I rocked on the ocean of the next eighteen, floating with no resistance as wave after wave crashed over me. The kinetic energy of the impact was immediately transformed to something else, some other electricity that crackled through my body before earthing itself in a place I could not name.
Ironically, of course, after that one quick conversation, I didn’t fly away completely. I didn’t enter that trippy, trance state where my sensory experience ceased to be bodily at all; where pain ceases to register as pain and is absorbed by the body as some other kind of energy. But I was close. As I think back, the primary sensory memory is not of lying in that bed, but of being suspended among starfields. At the last few hard strokes, my spine twisted and my head snapped back, but I barely made a sound.
Afterwards – or maybe before, I honestly don’t know – he turned me over and lightly whipped my breasts and nipples with the switch. My whimpers turned to moans of purest pleasure. As he moved between my legs and my feet curled around his head, he picked the switch back up and continued to whip my breasts as he entered me. I remember being impressed by his co-ordination, just before the sensations overwhelmed me completely and I abandoned myself to his steady hands.
Now I’m home. I miss him so much. Our relationship has been re-forged in the fires of this week, and after sharing so much together being away from him hurts like a physical ache. I’d already decided to write this before he asked me to, but because he did this is dedicated to him.
For my hard-working, talented, beautiful Sir, from his devoted and wanton wench. x
I had a schoolgirl photoset lined up to post tonight, but Tom and I have just watched the first part of Wheatley Manor, the epic new film from Northern Spanking, after which I am not at all in the mood for schoolgirl scenes. But that’s okay.
I don’t have time for a full review right now (I suspect that Tom is about to drag me upstairs and cane me, and I’ve only begged a couple of minute’s reprieve to post) so suffice it to say that the ballet lesson scene is one of my favourite all time scenes in the whole of spanking, and I wish I could do that, but since I can’t, I am very glad to know people who can so I can watch.
Honestly, I don’t normally get off on watching my friends in porn. I tend to watch their films because I’m interested, and if I’m actually looking for a porn fix I’ll find something more anonymous. But, er. Yes. As you can tell, I am quite out of words, so I shall leave you with a picture instead:
I’ll have more to say tomorrow, no doubt. I’m think I’m going to get my Dom to drag me upstairs now.
I’ve just found out about an exciting thing. Northern Spanking are releasing their first feature-length film. The stars, of course, are the four best spanking actresses (in my opinion) in the UK: Amelia-Jane Rutherford, Niki Flynn, Leia Ann Woods, and Amy Hunter. And the inestimable Stephen Lewis, although from the look of the promo pics the girls hardly need his help. The title? Wheatley Manor.
I wasn’t involved in this project, but I’ve seen the teaser site Northern Spanking have put online. And I’m excited. Aren’t you excited?
Paul, Lucy and the girls will be at the Shadow Lane Spanking Convention on Friday 6th March, to answer your questions and whet your appetites (and hopefully sell some DVDs). I can’t justify the trip this year, but I hope some of you can make it to Las Vegas and tell me all about it.
In the meantime, I’m awaiting this DVD release with baited breath. I don’t buy many, but this will definitely be one of the honoured few.
Well, it turns out I have even less time to blog than I’d hoped. I’m working pretty much flat-out, with barely enough time to catch up with my boys and certainly not enough to catch up on sleep. Even my cat is feeling neglected.
There’s been some fun stuff, though, in amongst all the work. Such as a lovely shoot yesterday with Amelia-Jane and our mutual friend Olivia, who was an unexpectedly excellent top playing our very no-nonsense governess. Amelia and I whimpered and whined our way through our punishments – really, we were completely graceless – and Olivia’s poise was breathtaking by comparison. But it’s okay for my character to fancy her governess, right? Older female role models, and all that?
I spent last weekend with D, which was absolutely lovely, and included lots of rudeness which was far too kinky to discuss on this blog. The highlight of the weekend was the Torture Garden Halloween Ball on Saturday night, which was superb – one of the best TGs I’ve ever been to. I was very proud of surviving the whole night in these shoes, which gathered many compliments and were surprisingly comfortable, and I kissed a pretty girl, chatted to friends, danced and enjoyed myself immensely. I was disappointed that the hedonistic D/s foursome which D and the pretty girl were plotting as a birthday present for a friend of theirs, which would have involved me being given to said friend to punish, didn’t happen in the end. But later in the night D bent me over a whipping bench, flogged me on my back and bum until I was dizzy, and then dealt me one of the hardest hand-spankings I think he’s ever given me, so I wasn’t too deprived in the end.
Next weekend Tom and I are going to Night of the Cane, the annual CP extravaganza hosted by The Firm and incorporating the famous Annual Caning Competition. I’m pretty sure we’ll be entering again this year, which will of course be awful for me given how much I hate being punished in front of other people. (Hee.) Hopefully I’ll see some of you there? Do come and say hello – I may be quiet on this blog at the moment, but I’m much more chatty in person!