This is a review of a two-minute RealVideo segment I downloaded from Bernie's Spanking Pages. I couldn't download the rest of it, so it's basically a review of the prologue. (That's not a still from it, above. That's from K. Taira's site.)
Here's how I know the spanking kink is hard-wired in me: I have an utter lack of discrimination when consuming images of punishment. This video was dreary and artlesss and I couldn't stop watching it. At first I was disappointed: the fuzziness of the image, the inert acting style, the stiffness of the proceedings--but then the more I watched it, the more fascinated I was.
The scene is very ordinary. Two girls in school uniforms are ordered to stand facing a wall. A man (a teacher? but why does he wear sweat pants?) is punishing them, ordering them to lift their skirts and then striking them as they stand there. (This was one of many disappointments, the lack of the classic bent-over position.) The first girl ("Fawcett," she's called, in the British fashion) squeals and shrieks in an appealing way, but the second girl ("Johnson") although she has the much prettier behind, makes absolutely no effort at simulating fear or pain or humiliation. Her "ouch" comes as a sullen afterthought to the first swat, and then she endures another four or five swats in bored silence.
The teacher, too, is hardly my dream dominator. He looks slovenly in his sweat pants; he sort of half-crouches to administer the spanking, looking awkward and uncomfortable. At the beginning, after he has ordered "Fawcett" to raise her skirt but before he's smacked her still clothed (!) rear end, he announces, with the overly careful enunciation of a drunkard, "this is only a pre-lim-inary" (how many takes were necessary to teach him that word?)"a preliminary to your main punishment, which comes LATER. This is a mere foretaste of what is to come." He is ostensibly adressing the students, yet clearly his words are aimed at a possibly restless audience. I think that is what began to charm me about this whole artless affair: the way this overly loud and stagy pronouncement was aimed at me, the watching pervert. I felt this crude and clownish troupe was secretly solicitous of my warped desires, despite the actors' own very obvious alienation from b/d/s/m or the like.
And then, Johnson, too, began to charm me. Her sullenness, her opacity, which at first seemed like bad acting, started to enflame me. I longed to see a teacher (not that teacher, but a real one, a stern and skillful one) break through her indifference.