Interesting times on this blog.
Hits now register well over 5600 and, on average, I am getting around 50 a day.
If it’s the same chap I wish he would stop doing it as it plays havoc with my
statistics. On the assumption that there is a bit of a spread it is worth
updating where the hits are going. I was miffed that one of my only two
followers had deleted himself but chuffed that a couple of other sites had
posted me on their recommended reading list. You win some, you lose some. In
the latter case he represented 50%. Deserves to have his underwear whacked.
The high is 186 hits after
posting my I Have Never Seen Whipstock
Grange story. That place certainly gets folks going and the story still
tops my list at 15.40%. Very much F/m and all stories in that sphere account
for 58.75% of the hits with Fridays at
Three O’clock second best at just over 9.37%. So the message is clear, the
best sort of stories to post if you want them read is mature ladies dealing
with a young, or not so young, male bottom. Preferably bare. I have a couple on
the Lulu site (The Boy in Black Trunks / A light Shines in Ruislip) but you have
to pay a small fee to download them. My excuse is that they are very long and
not suitable for this blog otherwise I would post them here.
The other hits on WhackingTales
divide almost equally between my blogging pieces and stories that are very much
M/m. The Wall does best at 5.11% (in
hit terms nearly 300) but most fall some way below even the lowest of the F/m
category. Shame really as I like stories that involve an authoritarian man
caning a boy’s behind. Must be my upbringing. The last two stories (Yesterday’s Boy/Tomorrow’s Child) write
that large. But, unlike politicians, I get the message and will post another
F/m soon. Even if it means a rewrite somewhere. When I drop my pants for a
little chastisement I care little for the gender that wields the cane. All I
ask is that they convince and know what they are doing. But that is real life.
Stories are clearly different. When the bare bottom is in the air, trembling
and waiting, its owner needs to be whispering a ‘Please Miss, not too hard,’
Because Miss, not Sir, means hits. And this is your blog as much as mine. If no
one came on I would give up. And that would never do.