In my limited experience, spanking usually comes in the form of hesitant pats by a boyfriend who is terrified of being seen as abusive, or in uncoordinated, alcohol-scrambled whops from a one-night-stand. The former is exasperating—just hit me already!—and the latter stings like hell.

So when I read that David Pierson, founder of the Punished Brats Productions' over-the-knee empire (www.punishedbrats.com) and Consumer's Spanking Video News & Reviews (www.spreview.net), lived in Doylestown, I had to know: Why is it so hard for regular Joes to get spanking right?

Pierson immediately mailed me nine DVDs, including Spacegirls!, a futuristic girl-spanks-girl tale starring PB webmaster Pixie Wells, and Spanking in the Modern Age, an odyssey through three decades of iron-fist punishment. Pierson writes the scripts and does most of the spanking himself, which means he spends a lot of time playing the grumpy guardian or crusty old headmaster, reprimanding nubile young women for skipping class, breaking curfew and borrowing the car without permission. He uses all manner of implements to get that red-bottomed glow, including oak paddles, rattan canes, rulers, razor strops, leather belts, wooden spoons and, of course, his bare hands.

"I like the delay of the cane," says Wells. "You feel the impact, then the burn and sting catch you a second later. But just as the pain registers, the next strip comes down. Your butt builds up a tolerance." She's even come to appreciate the zebra-striped look of a freshly caned bottom.

But after tearing through nine hours' worth of spanking scenes, I still have one major question: Where's the sex?

"There's no sex," laughs Pierson. "We're strictly spanking."

As it turns out, there are two main types of spanking: sexual or romantic, and disciplinary. The latter has a classier reputation, all Dorothy Gale in frilly panties getting whapped on the butt by Father Christmas, and that's where Pierson plays his cards. By following a true corporal punishment model (sans porno sleaze), he's been able to make a name for Spankadelphia in an otherwise Cali-based industry.

"Philadelphians are used to this stuff," Pierson half-kids, noting that the city's strong Catholic contingent is accustomed to seeing schoolgirls get their tails tattled.

Both Pierson and Wells believe spankos are born, not made. Pierson was never spanked by his parents but remembers sneaking peeks at Penny Birch novels. Likewise, Wells would look up the word "spank" in the dictionary and thrill at books and cartoons that depicted the act. Now she sees spanking as an art. After all, one fractured tailbone can put a right-quick end to an otherwise enjoyable session.

In one particularly brutal scene, Pierson beats her bum like a set of bongos, his face burning as bright red as her ass. I can't help but cringe. People really get off on this stuff?

"In every relationship, someone has taken a whack on the butt at one time or another," says Pierson. "I'm not a sadist. I'm just into seeing girls' bottoms red."

Questions? Comments? Did you score at BattleCry? E-mail ashlea.halpern@citypaper.net. No phone calls.