Da Janitor loves to keep things clean, and he can often be seen wandering around town holding a steamy hot nozzle of correction. I wonder? Did our own Janitor Steve inspire this satellite?
Janitor Sat-E-Light
February 15th, 2012Janitor Steve wins the Football Pool!
February 6th, 2012
Congratulations to our very own Janitor Steve for winning this years “Julie’s Pink Pick Football Pool”
Every year Spank School Forum hosts a fun football pool. Everyone has a lot of fun making their picks and competing with Julie, a friendly pink anus who uses her “anus intuition” and not much else to pick the winning football teams each week. It is rather amazing that Julie doesn’t do better in the football pools, but she doesn’t mind sharing the PINK spotlight a little bit.
This years winners are …
Janitor Steve – first place
Deb the Brat - second place
Coach Tiger - third place
I’d like to also give special mention to our own sweet Rene who bet the Patriots for 16 points every single week. If she is one thing, she is dedicated to her team. You have to love that.
Also, congratulations to the New York Giants for making it to, and winning the superbowl – Again!
Becoming an Orphan
January 30th, 2012
About a year ago, my mom died. She was in her mid- seventies, and smoking while on oxygen, and basically set herself ablaze. For about a year or so before her death, her health was failing and in an odd way, we became closer. I think in the last three or four yeas, as she became weaker and less scary, I became stronger and less needy for motherly affection. We could talk in a way we couldn’t before, possibly because I had no expectations any longer that she was going to grant me some sort of love.
As a child, one of my biggest fantasies was to become an orphan. It isn’t that I wanted my parents to die, but I did feel that their death would stop the anxiety I always felt about their impending deaths. I know that sounds strange, but it is sort of like driving and seeing headlights coming toward you on the other side of the road and being worried that someone might cross the center line and hit you head on, so instead you find yourself going toward those lights. Maybe I am the only one that feels this sometimes. :-) Although, I doubt that. One thing I have learned in my 52 years is that nothing you feel or experience is all that unique.
While growing up, my father was ill with MS (mulitple sclerosis) and my mom probably handled it as best she could, but between them both I suffered witnessing a lot of suicide attempts and crazy stuff that no kid should ever have to endure. I’m quite certain that all this had something to do with my spanking kink, maybe not the start of it, but certainly its perpetuation.
But anyway, I just decided this morning that I should mention this, as it is “news” and it is about me, and now that I am an orphan finally – I feel rather content and at peace.
zprymantis
Fans of Today
June 3rd, 2011
As we take a three day hiatus between game 1 and game 2 of the Stanley Cup Finals, I think it’s a good time for me to address what I see as a disappointing trend: The extinction of the classy sports fan.
I attended my first hockey game on March 16, 1969. My dad took me to Madison Square Garden and I saw the NY Rangers play the Detroit Red Wings. I was a hockey lover by age 11 and was so excited about going to see the NY Rangers play for the first time.
I recall how enthused the crowd was, even though the first two periods were pretty much dominated by Detroit. Entering the 3rd period, the Rangers trailed 4-2. Early in the game, the referee Vern Buffy called a penalty on the home team. The partisan faithful objected to this call, which they saw as an undeserved penalty. So, they began to chant, “BUFFY IS A BUM.”
In today’s game, given the same circumstance, the crowd would have been chanting “ASSHOLE,” although some of the more “congenial” crowds might opt for a chant of “REFEREES SUCK.” In many of these games, people bring their kids and us adults send the very clear message that when you attend a sporting event, you can forget you are a civilized human being. There is nothing wrong with screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs, or applauding when an opposing player is injured.
It’s even fine to make light of an opposing players death. If he doesn’t play for our team, why should we care anyway? Last month NY Rangers forward Derek Boogaard passed away at age 28. One person I know, who hates the Rangers commented that the player probably did drugs and it was his own fault that he died. Another person made an asinine comment that the Rangers organization will do anything to cut payroll. I had to remind these people that this was a young man of 28 who lost his life. I was then met with this mind boggling logic by another fan of how while tragic, he was more concerned with our young soldiers dying fighting wars in other countries. I asked him why he felt the need to compare apples and oranges. Both are tragic in their own right and need not be compared. Would he have liked it if someone said that while tragic, the attacks of 911 are nothing when compared to the Holocaust. After all, “ONLY” approximately 3,000 people were murdered that day, while over six million people were murdered during the Nazi’s reign. Again, apples and oranges.
When I say that I “hate” the NY Rangers, I hate the uniform. I never root for a player to be injured and when life ends way quickly as it did for Boogaard, what sweater he wore when on the ice means nothing to me.
I remember attending NY Mets games during my childhood. We’d all chant, “LETS GO METS” or “WE WANT A HIT.” We’d root for our team, cheer their good plays and boo our opponents. Today, we spend more time swearing at the other team, than rooting for our own. We scream that the other teams SUCKS. We chant that the other teams best player or players SUCK. That only makes us look not only classless but clueless. When one chants that a future first-ballad hall of famer sucks, you almost have to feel sorry for the guy for making such a fool out of himself. Problem is, nowadays, most of the crowd would gladly join his chant.
New Story – The Proposal
February 14th, 2011
Yes, you heard right, there is a new story at the Janitorium! After enjoying this story, be sure to check out all Steven’s stories at his story archive webpage. It seems fitting that an update like this would appear on Valentines Day!
The Proposal
by Janitor Steve
Patty was once again lying face down across her husband’s lap. Her skirt had already been lifted and her panties were now lowered just enough for her entire backside to be bared to her husband’s eyes. She knew that soon the hairbrush would be applied to her fanny until she was crying heart-felt tears. She had been in this position many times in the past so today’s bare fanny blistering came as no surprise to her. As Steven rubbed and patted her butt cheeks, her mind drifted back to the day Steven had proposed marriage to her.
They had spent an enjoyable day at the Zoo and right in front of the monkey cage Steven knelt down and asked her to marry him. Patty had been wondering when he’d finally pop the question. She was about to accept, however before she could get the words out, Steven stopped her. He placed a finger over her lips and then he spoke these words, “Patty, before you give me your answer, you must understand that once we are married, I am going to rule the house with an iron hand. “I have spanked you in the past, but the spankings will continue and they won’t always be in the form of foreplay. I will use spankings as real punishments and they will not be pleasant. Before you agree to marry me, I have to know that you can accept and abide by what I’ve just told you.”
Patty smiled and told Steven she loved him and that she knew at times she really did deserve a spanking and she respected him for having the nerve to give her what she sometimes needed. “Patty, I need to know for sure, so tonight I am going to punish you for the first time.” “You have been behaving in a less than acceptable way lately, so I think a preview of what is going to happen after we walk down that aisles is needed.” Patty felt her heart start to race in her chest and she felt both exhilarated and frightened at the same time. Steven had indeed spanked her before and hard too, but how hard would these new spankings be, she wondered? Steven told her he’d be by her house that evening at 10 PM sharp. He instructed her to only be wearing a bra and panties when he arrived.
As 10 PM neared, Patty was starting to feel a tingling in her backside. When she was a kid, a friend of hers father took his daughter into his bedroom because she had used the swimming pool after he had told her not too. When he announced a spanking Patty felt her own bottom begin to tingle. Now those same “little girl,” feelings were back. Then, just like that, the doorbell rang.
She opened the door and Steven stepped into the house. His facial expression was one of a man who was in a very serious mood. If she had doubted that Steven was serious about what he had told her, she no longer doubted any of it. She was going over his knee for a spanking she knew she’d never forget. Steven took her by the hand and seated himself on one of the kitchen chairs. He then pulled her over his knee and began to rub and pat her panty-clad behind. “Lately, you’ve been keeping me waiting too long when I come to pick you up.” “If our date is for 8, don’t keep me waiting around until 9 before you are dressed. “Also, I know you like it when I tell you I love you, but your days of flirting with other guys just to get my attention are over.” “I’ve noticed a sharp increase in you using swear words.” “That needs to stop.” “I hope I won’t have to punish you again for this because next time around it will mean the belt.” Steven picked up the hairbrush and showed it to her. “This is the brush that I will use when I need to punish you.” “It is made of ebony and as you’ll see, it stings to beat the band.” As Patty clenched her butt cheeks, Steven told her to “relax your muscles back here,” and he then placed his fingers into the waistband of her panties. “Steven, please not bare,” Patty practically cried out. “Bare, Patricia Ann is how it’s always going to be administered. He then tugged her panties down and picked up the hairbrush.
The brush landed and Patty was surprised by how much it hurt. She never felt pain like this from a spanking before, but this spanking HURT! Only 10 swats in and her eyes were welling up with tears. Steven ignored this and continued to punish his fiancés buttocks. As he spanked he scolded her and reminded her of why she was being punished. Patty found herself promising to be a good girl and to “never do it again.” The spanking just went on and on and Patty began to fear Steven might never put down that awful hairbrush. She was crying hard now, her tears falling to the carpeting below. She was no longer able to speak. She just went limp over Steven’s knee and anticipated the next time the brush would assault her poor sore bottom. Steven applied that brush 50 times before he felt that Patty had been given a true sampling of what a real spanking was all about. Patty remained over his knee for almost 10 minutes before she had composed herself enough to speak. She looked back at Steven and finally spoke for the first time since her spanking. “Yes Steven, I will marry you.”
Patty’s attention now came back to her current position. She readied herself for what was to come.
THE END
Julie Football Picks – RESULTS!
February 13th, 2011
It has been a fun year of football picks at Spank School. Julie and all the Spank School players did their best to pick the winners. Our ultimate winner was lil’Timmy who achieved first place in this years football picks!
Second place was Janitor Steve, and third place was Julie herself.
We are still preparing the MOST improved trophy, which Deb won! It will be such a big trophy, it doesn’t fit on this page.
After all …. it is all about size!
The End of Something
September 27th, 2010
This morning, on a whim, and probably because I had the time, I decided to delete the “Unofficial Assville Netring” from my website. This is not in anyway a rejection of my ring members who have been really great about doing the bit of work it takes to place links on their sites back to the ring.
I don’t feel the ring has a purpose any longer.
Here is a bit of history about the webring, and why it was once very important to me. When I first found myself online and discovered the spanko community, I was told about a newsgroup and was warned that newsgroups are a bit like the wild west, and that just about anything goes there. Still, when I first logged in and saw the discussions and banter, it was nice. I felt a sense of community and belonging. I decided to take the plunge and post. Not long after I did, I was sent an email asking if I would like to join my website to the Unofficial Assville Netring. I was thrilled! Two or three ladies ran the ring at the time, (I mostly remember a lady named Randi) and they made me feel very welcome to join the ring and to be part of their community.
After a few years the ring got taken over by someone else named D. Croyle, who was at the time the moderation bot guardian. The ring sort of fell into disrepair during those years and no new members were being added and many new website owners languished in queue waiting for some attention. At some point, I got an email from the webring software itself asking if I, as a member, would like to take over the ring, and I clicked the link that said yes. Suddenly, the ring was mine!
So, I went to work contacting those in queue and changing things a bit, and got some second wind into it.
That lasted for a few years but then at some point the ring service changed ownership and I had to pretty much redo everything. Eventually the new ring became unfriendly to adult content, and we were unceremoniously dumped from the ring.
At this point, I turned the webring into a link exchange, and we hobbled along from there for a number of years. One thing that hurt my feelings at the time, but now I see it more as a slap which foretold of things to come, was when Pablo (the current moderation bot owner) removed the link to the webring from the newsgroups website. When that happened, I realized the newsgroup current moderation team had no intention of keeping soc.sexuality.spanking as a free and welcoming community. To me, that moment was the beginning of the end for soc.sexuality.spanking.
This morning, I realized that I was going to have to remove a few more user links from the webring. With geocities/yahoo dropping website support to many users, and the death of Alex Birch ( one of my main webring enthusiasts) and with blogger blocking entry pages with adult content warning, the thought of removing a bunch of links to keep the ring vibrant depressed me. Then, there is the entire idea behind the webring which I had written on the index page : “To give a sense of community to the posters at soc.sexuailty.spanking newsgroup” – and when I read those words again, I realized that the ring no longer had a purpose. There is no community for me at the soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup. It is a place that makes me sad and makes me angry. I don’t visit there very much anymore and neither do the people who had links on my webring.
So, I decided to remove the ring from my website.
Your comments are welcome!
~zprymantis
Therapy for the Therapist
August 25th, 2010This is Steven’s newest story, which I will shortly be adding to his story archive. Steven wrote this story in the hopes of submitting it to a story contest at the SSS newsgroup, unfortunately, they only have 500 word categories this year. Steven’s story ran close to 550 words. The friendly posters at the Bottomlines Forum would like for this story to have been longer, much longer, and are clamoring for another chapter! ….or two!
Therapy for the Therapist
Frank Blossman was sweating now. This was simply too difficult to be done without feeling the emotional fallout. Frank took a deep breath as he continued his trip back to those bygone days of his childhood. A childhood that was both joyous and wondrous yet had more than its fair share of trauma. Frank always felt that if it were not for bad parents, there would be no need for the services of a shrink.
“I remember the time I was riding my bike with my brother. “We were coming down this steep hill which my dad had told us………….”
The sound of the phone ringing interrupted Frank in mid-sentence.
“Hello. “Oh yes sweetie, it’s fine. “You can go, just call me later and let me know you got there OK and what time you need me to pick you up.”
With that Jennifer Palmer put the phone down. Frank wasn’t very happy now. He lost his train of thought yet again. It seemed that the phone was a regular part of their weekly sessions. This was not the first time the phone had rung in the middle of Frank’s hour. An hour he paid for but certainly didn’t seem to own.
Before Frank could say a word, Dr. Palmer said, “OK, we have to stop now.” Frank looked at his watch and saw it was only 3:30.
“We’ve only been here for 30 minutes,” Frank said.
“Wasn’t our session for half an hour today?” Jennifer asked.
Frank took a deep breath, hiding his anger. “No, our sessions are always for an hour.”
Dr. Palmer looked at her schedule and then apologized. “Yes, I see. I guess I forgot. “I hope I didn’t schedule my next patient for 3:30. “I need to check that out.”
So Frank sat and waited as Dr. Palmer made a phone call to the patient she sees after him, to make sure he was not already on his way to her. As it turned out, she could not get him on the phone. About five minutes later, another interruption as “Larry,” the next patient arrived at her office. She excused herself and went to speak with him. It didn’t take too long and she was back saying he was OK and would come back at 4. Still, all these interruptions had made Frank wonder if this therapist could ever help him.
At 4, with the session now over, Frank handed Dr. Palmer payment for the hour. He was due $10 change. When he was not given any, he said, “I need change of $10.”
“Oh, how much do I charge you?”
“You charge me $10 less than I just gave you, Dr. Palmer.”
With his $10 in hand Frank left the office.
He drove home and called Dr. Palmer and told her he was not coming back. He told her why and she admitted she had been less than attentive and apologized. She offered him a free session, but Frank said, “Remember when I told you about my perversion?”
“Yes,” Dr. Palmer said.
“If you want me to come back, I will demonstrate it on you, first hand!”
After an audible sigh was heard on the other end of the phone, Dr. Palmer’s voice said, “So see you next week then?”
“Yes,” Frank said, “I think we shall certainly need the full hour!”
The End
Coming and Going
August 16th, 2010
There is something to be said for stability. I think what has always disappointed me in online only friendships with spankos, is their flimsy nature. People come and go so quickly sometimes, walking into and out of your life. I have often joked that there are perhaps only 20 spankos online, and I keep meeting them under various aliases over and over again. It sure seems that way sometimes!
It is only when you actually meet people that they become friends. When I have met people there is a trust formed just by the act of meeting and playing.
I think that Steven and I have remained quite stable over the years. Our screen names never change, we have a website with a domain name that remains unchanged. We are here, and our history is here. We never pretend to be anyone else, and if nothing else, our stability is what makes us, smilingwithteeth.com, the best FREE spanking website on the net! We aren’t here to take your money, or sell your kink back to you. It is yours to do with as you please. 
Wrong Color Panties – Zoey’s Lament
July 9th, 2010It never fails.
You think that you have tired out your spanker.
Filled him up with birthday cake:
Run him ragged with late night concerts:
..and your bottom is well punished and satisfied, and there you are behaving, or at least you THINK you are behaving …. and one small swat to your night gown clad bottom, and up slips your night gown an inch to reveal the WRONG color panties. One would think that the ache in his arm would give him pause to just ignore this one tiny insignificant infraction …
… but there you are, over his knee again, for a long hard paddling for wearing the wrong color panties.
Teal panties are not white cotton panties … and don’t you forget it!
Click to see entire picture.
