Monday, October 16, 2017

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for October 15

You described your perfect spanking like this:

Amy: Lovely question. For me, the perfect spanking starts with Eric figuring out I've done something and calling me on it from afar. (For example, not following through on something I've told him I was going to do.) He'll ask me about it, I'll admit to it, and then my body will come alive as he builds the anticipation of the consequences that will befall my "pretty ass" when he gets home. He'll use delicious threats and I'll build up the offense if I'm wanting to take more. When it's time, we'll both be wound up and he'll order me to our room. We will "talk", while he undresses me, and he will insist that I speak up and call him sir. Over his knee I will go for a good sound hand-spanking and from there, it will build into implements galore. I'll be forced into the corner, while he watches from our bed, and questions if I've learned my lesson. If not, he'll give me more. If so, he'll kiss me passionately and we will make our way to bed. Ahhhh. So nice.

Roz: I love this question. Lots of teasing, buildup and threats to a nice erotic spanking. Naked OTK for some nice hand spanking then OTB with implements with pauses for some teasing then onto other activities. Rick would be in control all the way, some light hair pulling, placing me as he wants me etc.

Jack: Your questions are always interesting. This one even more so.

A perfect spanking, for me, would be me spanking a female, consensually. The setting would be private, preferably OUR bedroom, a time, a place and emotions conducive to romance. My partner would be an empowered woman, intelligent, independent and self confident, a leader with formal, and expert power, a sense of humor, and a desire to be with me. Several different positions would be of interest, but I find the over the lap position – sitting on the bad so she can have he head on the bed or a pillow to be the most intimate. Bending over or lying on the bed or with her on all fours on the bed bring a greater feeling of submissiveness, so I like those positions, too. Implements would include something wooden, something leather and, of course, my hand. Emotions would have to be low drama, submissive, and then contrition would have to be present, at least towards the end. The aftercare would be as extensive, mostly petting and supporting and forgiving vocalization, but would likely include corner time - if it was helpful for either of us to get to the contrition. All of this though, would be dependent on ensuring that it worked for her, too. And the spanking would be over when I heard the three magic words, sir, sorry and condom (as “Is it on yet?” or “Can I help you put that on?”).

Thank you for your question, and for giving me a chance to reflect on this one. Love your blog. Please keep up the good work, Hermione.

Sir Wendel: The misses would be spanked in the kitchen. I would sit on a dinner chair. She would pull her pants down to her knees then go across my lap. I would pull her panties down and the spank her for several minutes. No talking just spanking. Afterwards I would send her to the bedroom. I would comfort her.

Hermione: In the morning, Ron would warn me that a spanking was in the cards for me later that day. He would drop hints about it all day, but keep me unsure as to when it would happen. When he finally commands me to go upstairs and get ready, I would go up to the bedroom and remove everything from the waist down. Ron would then sit on the bed and order me across his lap. He would deliver a good, long hand spanking.

Then I would be told to get the leather rose paddle and bend over the bed. I would get a good dose of the paddle, followed by the bath brush. By this time I would be very sore, and ready for cuddles. We would lie on the bed together, Ron would rub my sore bottom and cuddle me fo a while. Then we would proceed to more intimate activities.

Does anyone else have a perfect spanking—real or imaginary—to share?
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #198



Welcome, dear friends, to our weekly gathering. It has been a turbulent week, with so many distressing situations all over our world. Let's take time now to relax and turn our thoughts to a more pleasant subject.

How would you describe the perfect spanking? Tell us about the setting, partner, position, implements, emotions, aftercare, and any other details you care to include.

Please leave your response as a comment, and as always, you may comment anonymously if you prefer.  Once everyone has had a chance to speak, I will publish a summary of our discussion.
From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, October 14, 2017

You Finished this Sentence

My dream job is...

Dave: My dream job is reading this blog! [I'm (finally) retired!]
My dream job is 

KSPierre: My dream job is being an established movie, literary, political, and social critic...who designs sets for horror movies on the side!

Hands63: My dream job is the host of “The Bachelorette “.

Michael M: My dream job is Captain of a superyacht.

Anon: My dream job is being The Lone Spanker, a man who travels the world and administers spankings to naughty women who think they're too old to be spanked but are desperately in need of being taken across a gentleman's lap and soundly paddled on their bare bottoms.

My dream job is being a spanking therapist who specializes in teaching older couples the benefits of male partners administering sound spankings to their wayward female partners.

My dream job is being a writer.

Jack:  My dream job is being a teacher. Teaching children is good - teaching adults is even better and it is what I have my BS degree in. But I am not doing that now. Maybe one day again..

Sir Wendel: My dream job is being a Walt Disney World character making kids and grown-ups smile.

js666: My dream job is Punishment Master at a girls' school. Someone once wrote in to a teenage advice column about being sent to the "punishment master" at her all-girls school -- some guy whose full-time job it is to administer spankings to teenage girls. Yeah right.

Hermione: My dream job is product quality control supervisor for Cane-iac.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, October 13, 2017

Friday FAIL

Today's FAIL isn't humorous, I'm afraid. It's a real tragedy that is still unfolding as I write this. Wildfires are raging out of control in the wine-growing region of California, and are spreading northward to the Oregon border.

One of our favourite online radio stations is 102.7 The Wolf, broadcasting from Sonoma County. I told you about it some time ago in this post.


Sonoma County is one of the areas that has been practically wiped out by the fire. Homes, businesses and vineyards have been transformed into ash. Sue Hall and Darren McCormick, whose voices I hear every day, have become friends to us. I smile every time I hear the advertisement for Sam's For Play Cafe. which for a long time I thought was Sam's Foreplay Cafe. Feel good stories about native residents and their good deeds are a regular feature, ending with the line, "We believe in Sonoma County". Ron and I are very concerned about all the inhabitants of their community, even though we live thousands of miles away.  The Wolf is offline, although apparently still on the air. So for now we will wait, watch and pray.

Now, how about my readers? Are any of you near the fires, or are you concerned about friends or family who might be in danger, or who have been evacuated?
From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Finish this Sentence

Unfinished sentences always inspire me in many ways. How many endings can you think of for this dangling phrase?

My dream job is...

Leave your suggestions as a comment. On Saturday I will publish your completed sentences and we'll have some enjoyable reading.
From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

From the Top Shelf - In a Mist, Chapter 5

The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

The day is not yet over, and Elizabeth is still in the schoolroom with her tutor, Mr. Lennox. Is she working hard, or has she already slipped back into her old ways? Read on:

IN A MIST - Chapter 5. In which Elizabeth continues to learn some interesting lessons

Towards the end of school that afternoon, Elizabeth found herself growing drowsy. Her concentration began to wander. Lennox, who had been standing at the back of the room, crept up behind her and caught her doodling aimlessly when she should have been occupied in arithmetical calculations involving men building walls, mowing fields, or walking vast distances per day in competition with other men.

Lennox was not by nature an unduly harsh taskmaster and he took into account that Elizabeth's first day back at school had undoubtedly been a tiring experience for her. On the other hand, that morning he had laid down a rigid set of rules for his pupil - and rules were meant to be obeyed. His intuition warned him that Elizabeth was the type of girl who, if given an inch, would take a mile. Turning a blind eye to even her pettiest of failings would be a cardinal error, as her guardian had long ago discovered to his cost. He must at all times deal firmly with her since firmness was the only thing she understood and respected.

"If there is one thing I will not tolerate it is a lazy, inattentive pupil!" The anger in his voice coming from directly behind her made her nearly jump out of her skin.

Pinching her ear tightly between his thumb and forefinger so that she gasped with pain he pulled the startled girl to her feet and led her towards the leather-seated upright chair.

"Oh not again, sir! Not again, please!" she whimpered, the pain and humiliation of her first spanking still fresh in her memory.

This time she knew better than to struggle and kick. Her mistakes of the morning had at least taught her that physical resistance would only make things worse.

But if she hoped that by not putting up a fight he would be more lenient with her then she was quickly disabused. No sooner had he dragged her by the waist over his lap than she was dismayed to feel him lifting up her frock and petticoat at the back. She certainly hadn't bargained for that, and cried out indignantly as first her legs and then her bottom were exposed to his view. Nothing like this had ever happened before in her life. When she was younger and giddier she might have inadvertently displayed her stocking tops and knickers to the gawping stable boys as she cartwheeled and pirouetted across the yard. But now that she was virtually a woman, for a good-looking well-spoken young man to deliberately raise her skirt and petticoat and gloatingly examine her bottom, clad as it was in the wispiest of underwear, this was the cruellest affront to her dignity imaginable.

"How dare you inflict such an outrage on a lady!" she shrilled, drumming on the floor with her shoes. "I've never been so humiliated in my life! Cover me up immediately or I shall die of shame!" Her wildly flailing hands tried to push down her rucked up skirts - but she was no match for his strength. He captured her slender wrists, encircling them both easily with the fingers of his left hand, and pinned them up against her spine so she was helpless.

"As your tutor it is my duty to punish you in whatever way I may deem appropriate," he said firmly to the panting, dishevelled girl. "And if you naively suppose I shall restrict myself to merely smacking you on the seat of your skirt," he laughed mockingly, "then I'm afraid you are grossly mistaken. Let me repeat what I told you this morning, Elizabeth. While you are under my jurisdiction I shall treat you exactly like the disobedient little girl you are in spirit, if not in years. Your own past experience may well have been different, but in my book it is a fact of life that naughty girls who misbehave are punished on their bare bottoms, with their skirts raised and their knickers taken down -" at this Elizabeth screamed loudly and kicked and struggled with all her strength - "although since this is only your second spanking I shall, just this once, spare you the latter indignity."

Being permitted to keep her underwear on was small consolation to Elizabeth for they were made from the sheerest white silk and would offer little protection. Worse still, they were cut daringly high at the back, allowing large expanses of soft white bottom cheek to spill out on either side. A lot of the spanking would be on her bare flesh anyway.

Elizabeth loathed girdles. Nor did her slender waist and trim hips need to be restrained. Yet here was one occasion in her life when she desperately wished that she was wearing one, instead of the tiny white satin garter belt that held up her stockings.

All the fight went out of her. She suddenly felt wearily resigned. She was going to get spanked, come what may, so she might as well accept the fact and try to bear her punishment as bravely as she could.

A tremendous feeling of exhilaration surged through Lennox. This lovely girl was totally in his power. If he so desired, he could pull her knickers down there and then and tan her soundly on her bare arse - although it amused him to see that her underwear concealed very little.

And what a beautiful bottom it was - so delightfully rounded, the buttocks plumping out saucily from that deep mysterious cleft he could glimpse through the thin silk. Shamefully erotic stirrings began to nag at his loins. He felt shocked and alarmed at the carnal thoughts that were entering his head. She is simply an erring pupil, no more no less, and it is my duty to punish her, he kept telling himself. But the more he scrutinised her bottom. the more excited he became.

Her shimmering golden hair fell untidily over her face, hiding her blushes but irritating her nose as it brushed against it. Unsuccessfully she fought back a sneeze. When it came, inappropriately as do all sneezes, her whole body rippled in its wake - her splendid bottom included. Lost in thought Lennox absent mindedly stroked it.

This time Elizabeth was too taken aback to squirm and flinch. Instead she held her breath and told herself she was a wanton hussy for harbouring the thought that being patted on the half-naked behind by a man was really rather exciting.

Added to which he hitched up the waistband of her delicate panties, smoothing out all the creases so they moulded her bottom to perfection. Whether this was prompted by practical or aesthetic considerations on his part, Elizabeth didn't know, but in consequence she felt the narrow gusset tighten and tug teasingly at her sex. For a girl of eighteen with no experience whatsoever of the male species, the bodily sensation this produced was disturbing to say the least.

The touch of his hand cupping her bottom made her dizzy and faint. Her knickers, she knew, were silkily diaphanous. He'd pulled them so tight that they hugged her like a second skin. Through them he would be able to see clearly the secret vale between her cheeks, and all that lay therein.

To her utmost shame the knowledge aroused her and she felt her sex becoming wet.

If only he'd stop patting and smoothing down there, and get the spanking over with. Then at least she could rescue what little dignity she had left.

But she soon changed her mind when he began to spank her, her bottom quickly pinkening beneath the crisp, sharp impacts of his palm. Soft and cushiony though it was, her bottom had firmness and resilience too. It seemed to rise and meet each descending smack, as if eager to be punished. It shuddered and pouted as if it had feelings of its own. Elizabeth screwed up her face in pain as the smarting grew fiercer and fiercer. She felt she would die of humiliation.

His hand was so big and her bottom so neat and compact, he found he was able to smack both cheeks simultaneously. He concentrated on the plump provocative summits, smacking the same area a dozen or so times consecutively until the once opal-cream flesh darkened into angry crimson, its baby-softness marred by unsightly blotches and goose-pimply rashes.

Now she was bouncing and wriggling animatedly across his lap. Her knickers worked their way further and further into her cleft. They rubbed unbearably against her hot little pussy, creating a sticky damp patch which spread across the gusset. She was gasping, moaning and panting wildly, as if out of breath. What on earth is happening to me, she wondered, her eyes misting over with perspiration and tears.

The smacks were coming harder and faster now as, despite his aching arm and desperately stinging hand, Lennox put every ounce of his strength towards spanking Elizabeth into complete submission. Her bottom shimmered and glowed like a flaming beacon.

"NO MORE! NO MORE!" she sobbed, tears trickling down her face and into her tousled hair. "STOP! STOP! I BEG YOU!" She hadn't even the remotest idea what she was saying. She was not even aware it was her own voice that was speaking. Her will was crumbling. Her rebellious pride was melting away in the fire that engulfed her loins. She felt an intense hunger gnawing at her sex. It grew and grew uncontrollably as the spanking neared its climax.

Then it erupted and devoured her. She experienced an unbelievable rush of blinding pleasure. She screamed, jerked and contorted her body as if consumed by demons. Then she relaxed all her muscles and hung, limp and exhausted, seemingly unconscious, across Lennox's lap....

"There now, it's all over my dear," he said after a while, cradling her in his arms as if she were a child.

"Oh where am I? What happened?"

"You were naughty, Elizabeth, remember? I had to punish you."

Her eyes flickered at the memory. "Yes I remember now. You spanked me very hard and made me cry." There was no trace of resentment in her voice.

He smoothed down the back of her crumpled dress and helped her slowly to her feet. She stood there swaying a little unsteadily, so he moved behind her and placed his arm around her waist to support her. Her bottom brushed lightly against his loins. How it must be burning up, he marvelled. He had touched it briefly while rearranging her clothing and had felt the heat rising from it.

"Thank you, sir, you may let me go now if you wish, I feel better now," she said, turning round to face him.

He released her from his grasp and stepped back a pace or two. The look on her face transfixed him with astonishment. There was almost a mystical radiance about it, despite the tears still glistening on her cheeks. She seemed so serene. The air of wanton destructiveness that had spoilt her beauty before had vanished. She looked more womanly now, yet younger and prettier at the same time.

Far from destroying the child in her, Lennox had set it free from the narrow prison cell in which it had languished. Elizabeth's life at Lymchurch House had not been a happy one. She had been spoilt but neglected, overindulged but never truly loved. She had arrived seventeen years earlier on her guardian's doorstep, like an unwanted parcel. He had taken her out of duty, not compassion and never once since then had he shown that he really cared for her. If Elizabeth had behaved insufferably it had been out of a crying need to claim his attention. But all he had ever displayed to her was cold indifference.

Now, as if by magic, a man had come along willing and eager to devote all his time and energy to her; a man strong enough to lead and guide her, to put her firmly in her place when the need arose,and to give her all the caring attention she had always craved.

"Will you always spank me when I've misbehaved, sir?" she enquired earnestly, drying her eyes and blowing her nose with the large red-spotted handkerchief he had lent her.

"Not always, Elizabeth. Sometimes, as I warned you this morning, I am afraid it will have to be the cane." He reminded her by pointing at the narrow cupboard by the fireplace in which it lay.

Her face clouded. She looked momentarily afraid. "I don't think I will like the cane." The cloud lifted and she added more cheerfully, "But I am quite used to spankings now and I promise not to be a big baby and make a fuss next time I have to go over your knee. Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this," she confided innocently, "but there is something almost comforting about the way you spank me."

"Elizabeth, you silly goose, you aren't supposed to like being punished, no matter what form it takes!" he chided, alarmed that she had found the spanking less disagreeable than he'd intended it to be. He made a mental note that from the following day onwards he would use only the cane on her, for he guessed she was now malleable and compliant enough to 'bare and bend' on command.

Which reminded him about her clothing. He decided to broach the subject right away without going to the trouble of consulting her guardian. She was clearly in a mood to listen to reason, and seemed to want to go out of her way to please him.

"Elizabeth," he said, "it is now nearly half past four and time for me to dismiss you. I suggest you go to your room and have a sleep before dinner."

"Thank you, sir, I shall. I feel lovely and drowsy." She stretched her supple body in languid contentment.

"But before you disappear," he added with a cautioning finger, "I should like a little word with you about your costume."

"Sir?"

"As you see, I am wearing my academic gown, thus conferring upon me the status of tutor. I shall, of course, wear it only here in the schoolroom. Beyond these walls I shall have no disciplinary authority over you, although that is not to say I shan't be keeping a close eye on your behaviour."

"Yet," his voice softened and he smiled almost boyishly, "It doesn't mean we can't be friends. We can go for long walks together at weekends should you wish it. I love nothing better than a long ramble in the wilds. I very much wish to explore this stretch of coastline. I have heard many good reports about it."

"Oh yes, sir, yes!" she clapped her hands and danced about in delight. "I should like that more than anything else in the world. I am so starved of friends and company here. I shall show you everything there is to see!"

"And do you ride, Elizabeth?"

"Do I ride?" she beamed ecstatically. "Why, I have ridden ever since I was three. Dear, grumpy old Mr. Tomms taught me! Will you ride with me, sir?"

"Providing you have a horse sturdy enough to take my weight, yes I will - nothing would give me greater pleasure!" Whereupon his tall, heavy frame began to shake with laughter which was so infectious that soon Elizabeth was joining in.

"But about your clothing," he resumed, stepping back and displaying her calf-length frock with a frown, "The gown you are wearing is quite unsuitable for the classroom. For one thing, you will spill ink over it and ruin it. But more importantly," he frowned at the gravity of what he was about to say, "it is so long and flowing, it makes things rather difficult when I need to uncover your bottom, as we discovered this afternoon."

Elizabeth remembered and blushed to the roots of her hair.

"So if I am to treat you like a schoolgirl, which as you may recall, we decided would be in your best interests -" Elizabeth nodded, the blush on her face deepening, "- it would not only be more appropriate, but more convenient, if you were to dress as one."

"You want me to wear short skirts, sir?" she enquired without demur. "That will indeed remind me, with some embarrassment, of my schooldays - but I am quite willing to do it, if that is what you wish."

Lennox was still slightly bemused by the great change that had come over her since the spanking. She was a different girl now, agreeably charming and sweetly submissive. Nothing was too much trouble for her - whereas before she would have baulked at his every word. He could hardly wait for Mr. Harker to see her. The old gentleman would probably refuse to believe it was Elizabeth and accuse him of substituting a double!

"What was the uniform like that you wore for boarding school?" he asked, suddenly curious to know everything about her younger days.

"We had to wear grey blazers with gold piping around the cuffs and lapels, plain white cotton blouses and grey pleated skirts. I hated that uniform at the time." she said, wrinkling her nose up at the memory.

"How would you feel if I told you to wear it now?"

"I don't know, sir," she blushed, taken aback. "I suppose I'd just have to make the best of it and get used to the idea."

"Have you still kept the uniform?" he asked, hoping she had.

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I gave it to Mrs. Anderson to be cleaned and pressed the last time I came home from boarding school. I was to return there after the summer holiday but the headmistress wrote a letter to my guardian saying she didn't want me back. Knowing her, Mrs. Anderson probably put my school clothes away in one of the laundry room cupboards. She never throws anything out."

"I wonder, Elizabeth, if you would be good enough to go and ask her for them?" At first she thought he was joking, but the expression on his face told her he was not.

"You really want me to wear my old school uniform, sir?" she asked, feeling uncomfortable, "It's three years since I last wore it, I doubt if it will fit me now." She wasn't at all sure how she would cope with the idea. The blouses would certainly now be revealingly tight, since her breasts had grown bigger during the intervening years. And as for the pleated skirts, she knew they would still fit her easily around the waist for she was no bigger there than when she was fifteen. If anything she was smaller, because all traces of puppy fat had gone.

But her legs. They were now more long and shapely. The skirts would finish a long way above the knee. She would feel shamefully exposed in such an abbreviated garment.

But then, she reflected with a sigh, that was exactly what he wanted. A quick and easy route to her bottom, so as to be able to punish her with the minimum of fuss.

She, Elizabeth, who for years had been used to complete licence with regard to clothes, would be allowed no say whatsoever in the matter of the blouses and skirts. If she dared to object to them, he would overrule her and punish her for objecting.

The helplessness of her situation struck her as both ludicrous and yet particularly thrilling. Even on that first day with Mr. Lennox, Elizabeth had already learnt a crucial lesson, for she now realised that what she had previously regarded as freedom was little more than an illusion. By submitting to the will of her tutor she was, after all, surrendering only the parts of her that were worthless and bad. Such self-abnegation as that would surely bring its own rewards...

"Of course I shall do as you say, sir, and ask Mrs. Anderson for my old school uniform," she said meekly, yet with an air of quiet pride that he had entrusted her with a task to perform, however onerous it was. "But first, " she said humbly, "there is something I must do which I neglected earlier. I do apologise, sir."

"What is that?" Lennox asked, puzzled.

"I must go down on my knees as I did this morning and kiss your hand - the hand that punished me." He was overjoyed that she had remembered to carry out his instructions down to the very last detail.

As she knelt in obeisance before him, he held out his right hand, still tingling from the spanking it had administered. She inspected it reverentially, turning it palm uppermost so that she could place her lips against the very part that had chastised her bottom so mercilessly.

Lennox felt a pleasurable stirring in his loins. With his other hand he gently stroked the rich dark-blonde hair of her head.

Then she rose, awkward and flushed, and departed without a word, leaving him standing alone in the white-walled schoolroom.
Those weekend rambles should prove interesting!
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, October 9, 2017

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for October 8

Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian readers! We enjoyed a lovely roast turkey dinner yesterday and are looking forward to leftovers all week. Our topic this week was spanking bets, and here's what you said.

Fred: The short answer is yes. Way back in 2005 I had a bet with my friend Alison based on the result of the UK election. I lost!

I did write about this on my blog. The blog has long since gone. But I have a backup of every post, so for your amusement I have put the original posts up on my Tumblr.

Wilma: I'm afraid I don't have an amusing story for you to go along with your question. My answer is just plain no. BUT I did want to wish you a Happy ( and unseasonably warm- yay!) Thanksgiving! Too bad our leaves (at least here anyway) haven't really begun to change. I feel sorry for the tourists who have come for them. Anyway, enjoy!

KDPierre: The short answer is yes, but the sheer number and variety of these bets would require a lot of reminiscing and much more space than a blog post comment area. (But you DID give me a great idea for some future blog posts on "Collected Submissions".) It seems to me that if a person has a willing partner who likes to spank and you can slant the stakes so that the spank penalty only applies to the sub partner with other non-spank-type consequences for the dominant partner...you can turn almost ANYTHING into frequent 'spank bets'! LOL

Roz: Happy Thanksgiving to you and Ron Hermione! I'm afraid I don't have an amusing story to share either.

Fondles: Oh yes! We bet on soccer! I don't know why, cos I'm not a soccer fan or anything, altho I do support BIKSS and so we root for his team. It was a while ago I think, but it went something like we add a multiplier (the goal difference) to a pre-determined number of spanks. Either way, I get my spanks!

Joe: Yes, dating a wonderful woman, sharing sexual desires, spankings she said was not something she would do. Her desires I met and no matter how many times I mentioned spankings, nothing. I told her if she would finally give in, the bet was I would take her out to the best restaurant in town. I broke the major rule in her home, I walked into the kitchen naked, erect, her look was priceless. You win she said with a smile and over her lap I went. She did not tell me she had spanked a previous boyfriend and my bottom was soon stinging, very warm and when I said enough, she laughed and when she finished I dance around the room, rubbing. Dinner tonight she said, I said if I can sit, she said a bet is a bet. I squirmed at dinner, use the excuse we went skating and I fell on the ice, she just smiled.

Sir Wendel: It’s not really a bet but the loser of a board game gets a spanking.

Ronnie: Not a bet with P but PK, New Beginnings. UK was playing USA in the 2010 World cup and I said that USA would easily be beaten by the UK. PK suggested a bet, the loser gets 5 swats from their husbands for each goal and the winner between us gets to pick the implement. Who won, it was a 1-1 draw, so we decided that both of us should get the 5 swats with the dogging bat.

Hermione: When Ron and I are discussing facts that we disagree on, He often says, "Wanna bet?" My usual reply is that if he's right, he gets to spank me, but if I'm correct, I get a spanking. Either way, I win!

From Hermione's Heart