Monday, May 2, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for May 1

We discussed quiet spankings, and here are your suggestions.

Roz: On the occasions a spanking has had to be quiet it has usually been shorter to hopefully lessen the chances of being heard and less intense. Rick would often change his technique too.

Downunder Don: We have not quite worked out the art of quiet spanking...any advice will be gratefully received.

Hobbes: When the children were still home and in those years in an apartment we found two things were very quiet and very effective, a switch and a rubber hose. The switch could be cut fresh from a willow tree along the creek by married student housing and then later on an auto mechanic left a length of brake hose [about eighteen inches] in the car after he finished working on it. Either is very quiet but gives an intense sting and leaves light marks so they do have to be used with some care and practice. And if the recipient is a "howler" a clean wash cloth between the teeth works well. The rubber hose is soft and supple, not hard and large, so it will not do serious tissue damage but definitely can be used full strength swing to good effect. It is pretty much that black hose you remember from your high school chem class Bunsen burner. Amazingly quiet and very effective and cheap. Just go to an auto supply place and get 18". If you do use a switch be careful as it can sometimes nick the skin and split it slightly. Please use both with loving care.

Sir Wendel: Once I spanked the misses when her family was over to visit. We were on the second floor with the door closed. She refrained from complaining during. The misses does not believe they heard the smacks although to this day I swear that her sister knew.

arched one: The quietest implement we have is the whip. We didn't care for the whips being sold so R told me to make her one. I used boot laces (leather) and made a handle to attach them to. There is no impact noise at all and does its job quite well.

Gracie: Mr M uses severe but quiet implements - like the cane or hairbrush. Quieter and less actual spanking needed before I've learned my lesson ;-).

Anon 1: In general the smartier the spank, the louder the noise, but flat things like slippers, hands or paddles tend to make more noise than the thin ones. A very thin cane or switch applied fast and for some time to a slack bottom, its owner lying prone, generates a healthy smart, and very little noise. However her burning bottom may elicit some yells, so some sort of gentle gag may be needed.

Wilma: If Barney spanks 'in the moment' he has to use a quiet implement. I haven't ever been much of a noise maker (unless whatever he is using wraps around and hits the side of my thigh). I am more of a hisser, and snorter (think angry truth be told.

He has several quiet implements, various canes, a devil's braid, flogger (which is very ineffective so he doesn't use it), silicone icing spreader (Damn you, Betty Crocker) the list goes on. He usually sticks with the lexan cane for all infractions, regardless of if people are home or not. The difference lies in the length of time and the position of the punishment. I am far more exposed and restrained if the kids are not home.

Amy: Lately, I've been spanked in the walk-in closet in our bedroom because the clothes hanging all around seem to dampen the sound when there are other people in the house. Eric has even used a big leather strap in there and as far as we could tell, nobody was the wiser.

Anon 2: We'll hide it... keep it quiet, somehow, while traveling or visiting. At home, that's another story, it doesn't matter who is around it's not going to be a quiet affair. That was one of her first rules in agreeing to an FLR relationship. When in the house, much to my dismay, there is no hiding the fact that she is the HOH. I've been hauled up/downstairs many a time in front of friends and family for a good blistering with her razor strap/strop over the years.

Ronnie: If we need to be quiet the spanking will be shorter and P will use a cane. Either our OTK one or a thin garden cane.

Blondie: He uses a quiet implement, like a cane to spank. And I do everything I can to not scream. The spankings are usually shorter in time but harder in the spank.

Yorkie: We used to live on a property in 2 separate buildings, so if everyone was in the main house we could occasionally indulge, but now we are all in one house (extended family live with myself, my wife and our 4 kids) there is no chance unless we go away and check into a hotel. Haven't had an opportunity where there is only my wife and I are the only ones home. Yet...

Hermione: We are lucky to have a house all to ourselves, so there's no reason to be quiet. In summer we will close the windows in case the neighbours are outside, but that's about it. Our carpet beater and loopy Johnny are the quietest implements, but thankfully we don't need to use them often.

Thank you for all the suggestions on how to keep the noise to a minimum!
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #123

Welcome back, dear friends. We all know that spankings can be very noisy affairs, and that's part of the fun. But what if you have friends, parents, or children within earshot and you absolutely have to keep the noise down?

Do you sometimes need to have quiet spankings? How do you keep the sound to a minimum? 

Leave your reply as a comment. Once everyone has had a chance to leave their suggestions, I will publish a summary of our discussion.
From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, April 30, 2016

You Completed the Caption

This photo brought out the naughty side of my readers!

Six of the best: "Naughty ladies, you do not need to dress up, where you are going. For it's knickers down, down, down, and my pliable cane descending on your tender bare derrieres, that await you all."

Simon: I'm telling you you're the wrong way round, the one playing the head of the horse should be at the front. Get it right or the pantomime horse will look ridiculous.

Ronnie: See if I stand close like this no one will be able see Lucy's spanked red bottom.

Anon 1: Look. He bent me over just like this and spanked my bottom until I was too sore to sit down.

Girl in back: I don't know why we go to the trouble of putting on all this stuff when they're just going to put us over their knees and pull everything down so they can spank our bare bottoms.
Girl standing: Oh, honey, that's half the fun, having him take off one layer at a time until I'm totally bare.
Girl bending over: There's nothing I like better then wiggling around on my guy's lap while he slowly pulls down my panties. I'm getting warm just thinking about it.

DelFonte: Bending girl: Oh shit, I split the seam. Now they'll see my red ass.

Baxter: Oh ladies, isn't this fun being scantily clad, waiting for the lead man to come in, ogle us, take us over his muscular lap and spank us with his big strong hand? It gives me a nice warm feeling you know where just thinking of it.

Sir Wendel: Thought it was: “Break a leg” not “Paddle my ass”

Kingspan: The woman playing Kate made sure everyone got a few spanks before the show, just to keep it fair.

Anon 2: Girl bending over: I'm so pissed off. I can't believe my boyfriend spanked me before I left for work, and now I have to go on with a sore bottom. How bad does it look? Do my lacy undies cover up my roasted rump?
Girl behind her: Ginny, I'm afraid your bottom's going to need a lot more covering than that skimpy outfit provides, unless you want everyone in the audience to know you just got spanked. Why do you think I'm wearing these big panties? I like wearing revealing lingerie that shows off my best ASSets, but not after the way my boyfriend blistered my bottom this morning. Right, Ellen?
Girl in back: Oh, yeah. Jeanie's butt is at least as red as yours ... and mine, too, which is why I'm not wearing the frilly panties I showed my boyfriend last night. Do you know that he forbid me to wear them on stage today? And when I told him I was a grown woman and would do exactly as I pleased, he said that was fine with him, but that he was going to make sure that all the men in the audience knew my bottom belonged to him. Then he put me over his knee, branded my poor little heinie with a paddle, and told me I was free to wear whatever I wanted to ... which is why I decided, on my own, that I'd wear these granny panties.

Anon 3: Tall woman: Hey, Janice, look at how red Katie's behind is. Looks like the boss finally gave miss goody two shoes here her first on-the-job spanking. I guess she ain't his sweet little pet no more.
Woman in back: It's about time he got wise to her shenanigans. I was gettin' real tired of the way he was lettin' her get away with stuff, but at least once a day he'd find some reason to put you and me over his knee for a long, hard bare bottom spanking with that damn hairbrush of his. It was really startin' to piss me off that we'd have to go on stage every night with our freshly toasted buns stuffed inside these horrible knickers while she got to flit around in her dainty little undies. Well, welcome to the blistered butt club, honey!
Tall woman: Yeah, I guess she won't be wearing this sexy little thing no more, will she? Unless she likes having her bright red fanny on display so's everyone can admire its warm glow.
Woman in front: Oh, just shut up and hand me a pair of those damn knickers ... and an ice pack, if you've got one!

Vfrat25000: Larry, Moe and Curly were not at all like they appeared on the big screen. In the dressing room MUCH, MUCH different.

Girls I am lost. Are we here for one of Donald’s Campaign Stops or are were competing in the Miss Universe Pageant.

Every school boy has always wondered what went on behind the door to the all mysterious “Teacher’s Lounge!”

Margaret, I don’t think this the room where they store the choir robes!

The Fox News dressing room for potential news anchors!

You know Alice this stunt is most likely going to get us spanked!
I know Millie but the look on the face of my tyrannical mother in law will be worth it.
Your right Millie, that old bat has it coming. I’m glad I could help. Now let’s give that old battle-ax a Thanksgiving Dinner she will never forget.

Store Clerk
Ladies, Uhhh, Do you realize you don’t have to try on the clothes in the clothes aisles. We have dressing rooms!

Hermione: Florence, I really don't believe there are that many mosquitoes on my butt.

Wow! You really outdid yourselves today! Do stay and have brunch, coming up next.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, April 29, 2016

Friday FAIL

I thought the name of this product was a clever way to get a spanko's attention, but seriously, who wants to wear a rolled-up doughnut on their head?

Watch what happens when three women discuss the product on television.

For more foolishness, why not Complete the Caption?
From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Complete the Caption

Prior to a stage performance, there is always a lot of frantic activity in the dressing room that the audience never sees, but this kind of activity isn't the norm. Or is it?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your submissions on Saturday. Thank you DelFonte for the picture.

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

From the Top Shelf - Fetch Me a Brandy

For your entertainment I present to you the second selection from Amanita Virosa's novel, Hall of Infamy. We return to Hope Hall to pick up the story from where we stopped last time. You might want to refresh your memory by reading the young cousins' introduction to Hope Hall here.

"Do you know, I believe we shall get along very well here for the summer, Betsy." Jamie Fanshawe leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head with a satisfied smile.

Betsy knew better than to answer him and carried on with her work, tidying away the trestle and the things that Master Jamie had taken out to use on the young ladies. She hoped his taste for flogging had been sated by the evening's activities. First he had caned Miss Amelia which, Betsy had to admit, she had enjoyed watching. Then he had spanked Miss Clara across his knee, afterwards giving her a mere four light strokes with the cane, a count which seemed scarcely adequate to the nursery-maid. He had stayed a long time in Clara's little room afterwards, though, and Betsy had heard soft girlish moans through the door. Surely he must be satisfied for the night?

She picked up the cane and was about to take it to the cupboard.

"No -leave that! We shall want to use it in a minute. Run down to the drawing-room and fetch me a brandy. I shall see to you when you get back."

Oh Lord, thought Betsy, her heart pounding as she hurried down the stairs and along the corridor. She was plainly going to be served a portion of rod soup tonight, after all. There was no denying that Jamie was a demon for dishing out the cane, and he seemed to like Betsy's big and all-too-tender bottom particularly as a target. She just hoped she could get the brandy without incident. Swallowing anxiously, she knocked on the drawing room door.

"Enter." The languid tones of Lord Alexander summoned her into the room.

Betsy sighed. She had hoped that the Marquis and Marchioness would not yet be back from their visit to the reformatory. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Well, girl, what is it?" Lord Alexander was sprawled in a leather-upholstered chesterfield, a balloon of brandy in one hand and a fat cigar in the other. Kneeling before him, and difficult to ignore, was a girl. It was not hard to recognise Lucy, his chambermaid. The girl's brown ringlets and plump bottom made her easily identifiable, even from the rear. Her bottom was quite bare, Lucy having stripped to her white corset and black silk stockings, and her head was bobbing busily about his crotch.

Lady Alicia, resplendent in a gown of crimson silk, was lounging on a couch, a little to one side, idly fingering a long and very slender dressage whip. Several welts, narrow but deep red, already graced the creamy flesh of Lucy's bottom. Betsy knew quite well whence the livid stripes had originated. She studiously avoided Lady Alicia's eyes. Something like this was what she had been scared of facing.

"Master Jamie, sir, asked me to fetch him a brandy."

Lord Alex gave a distracted grunt before waving his cigar towards the decanters. "Well, get on with it, girl, and be sure to pour the lad a decent measure."

Betsy hurried over to the cabinet that held the glasses and took a balloon over to the side table that supported the flasks of drink.

"By God, that's it. Good! Yes! Oh, yes!" Lord Alex groaned again.

Betsy tried to ignore the slurping noises.


Her hand trembled at the sound of the whip cutting through the air and into Lucy's bottom but she managed not to spill any brandy.

"Damn! The little bitch nearly nipped me," Lord Alex barked.

"Tsk, tsk, she must be properly flogged."

"Yes, dear, of course - but let's just allow the baggage to finish - yes, that's it!"

Betsy escaped while their attention was still on Lucy. Once out of the drawing-room, she leant back against the wall and gave a big sigh of relief. The nursery-maid knew, from bitter experience, that had Lord Alex and Lady Alicia delayed her, then Master Jamie would have blamed her rather than the culprits, and would have punished her accordingly. Fairness never seemed to interfere with flogging matters at Hope Hall.

"What are you doing, girl, lounging around chewing cud like a heifer?"

Betsy could not quite prevent a startled squeak escaping as Mrs Pritchard emerged, quite silently, from a doorway opposite.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Pritchard, I was sent...I was just -"

"Just idling is what you were doing, girl! You are a lazy good-for-nothing. Get on with your duties instantly."

Betsy turned and trotted down the corridor as fast as she could, but it was not fast enough. Mrs Pritchard's harsh voice called after her. "Oh, and put two black marks against your name in the big book. You should know by now what happens to idle trollops at Hope Hall!"

Betsy climbed the east wing stairway disconsolately. Twenty minutes earlier she had been hoping she might go to bed unscathed. Now she had Master Jamie's cane to look forward to, and the black marks would mean at least two dozen with the birch, come Sunday. She had not liked the way Lady Alicia looked at her either. Like most maids at the hall, Betsy felt the best way to be looked at by the imperious Lady Alicia was, generally, not at all.

"You took your time!"

Betsy knew better than to protest. "Sorry, sir," she said anxiously, but he smiled indulgently as she handed him the glass.

"Oh that's all right, Betsy," he said, taking a sip. "I am in a good mood tonight. Take off your dress. I AM going to thrash you - but don't worry I'm not too cross with you." He grinned and put the brandy glass down on the low table beside him, picking up and flexing the kooboo cane in its stead. "No, I'm going to flog you now strictly for my pleasure."

Thank you, Master Jamie, that makes all the difference! Betsy could not quite suppress the flash of sarcasm as she pulled off the grey nursery uniform. She did not dare articulate the thought, but her cheeks went a little pink and she felt suddenly afraid that he might read her mind.

"That's better. Now I can have a good look at you. Should we get you a little 'tutu' like the chamber-maids, instead of that grey sack?"

Betsy said nothing. Lucy and Kitty spent a good deal of their lives in abbreviated mockeries of proper maids' uniforms. The very idea of spending her days dressed like that filled Betsy with horror. Her own outfit was perfectly respectable, if a little dull. Still, she knew that her opinion was not really being sought.

"Hm," Jamie sipped his brandy thoughtfully, keeping the cane in his other hand. He used it to tap a suspender clip where it clasped the top of her black woolen stocking. "I think we will have your skirts taken up to here, anyway. It is just too much trouble getting them up out of the way every time I want to give you a quick freshener."

Betsy tried to stop her bottom lip from trembling.

"Of course," he sighed, using the cane to stroke the side of her leg, over the woolen stocking, "these will have to go. I'll order some silk hose for you. Won't that be fine?"

This was a direct question and so she had to answer. "Yes, sir," she said, trying to sound appropriately grateful.

In truth, fine silk stockings were the last thing she wanted. The things laddered if you so much as looked at them too hard. Betsy had seen the chamber-maids bent over far too often, as they were made to atone for sins that they had been adjudged to have committed against expensive silk.

"Drawers down, Betsy!" Jamie's voice was low and even-toned, but there was no doubt that it was an order. Her fingers fumbled at the knot as she wondered if he would order these replaced as well. The old-fashioned drawers could be opened easily enough at the back for purposes of punishment, but they would look ridiculous with a shortened skirt.

Betsy's face was crimson as she resumed her position. It seemed she would never get used to this; standing in nothing but her long black corset and her stockings, breasts bulging out of the top and private parts entirely bare to the young man's scrutiny. Her fingers fluttered at her sides, desperate to cover her nakedness - but the cane, languidly waving in Jamie's hand, kept them trembling in their place.

"By God, you really are a great piece, Betsy," Jamie chuckled appreciatively and took a swig of brandy. "I don't know when I've seen bigger titties. Unhook your front and get them out for me."

Betsy had always been big. Some might have called her fat, although she had a good waist even without the benefits of corseting. The tight-laced beast she struggled with now could not quite force her plumpness into a fashionable hour-glass, but it certainly emphasised her curves. It was back-laced and hooked at the front so, theoretically, it should have been simple to undo, but the pressure exerted by the merciless lacing meant she had a real struggle to unhook it at the top. Finally, she got the first metal fastening open.

"No, don't take it off. Just get those tits out!"

Betsy had hoped she would have escaped from the tightness of the thing, at least during the duration of her punishment. The long corset always made bending over such a trial. She did as she was bidden; having loosened the top she was able to pull her breasts out and over the top of the corset's front.

"Hands on your head!"

Scarlet-faced and totally exposed, Betsy did as she was ordered. Her breasts were relatively firm and shapely, considering their size, and the action pulled them up so that they jutted out before her...

"Now, come here. No, much closer."

Hesitantly she stepped closer, until she was right at his side. Jamie put the brandy balloon down, though he retained the cane. Betsy closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing as he ran his hand up over her thigh and over the big mounds of her bottom. He rested it there for a moment, using his fingers to caress her left buttock gently.

"Wonderfully firm. You really are quite magnificent, you know."

Betsy bit her lip. If you like my arse so much, Master Jamie, she thought suddenly, what do you see in that skinny little bitch, Clara? She was surprised at the vehemence of the emotion. Surely she was not feeling jealous? Cross with herself for being foolish, she pushed the thought away.

"I've changed my mind. I'm not going to cane you. You can put this away."

Betsy took the cane and scurried over to the big cupboard, trying not to let hope into her heart. It stole in all the same.

"Oh," Jamie said as she put the cane in its place, "and bring me a two-tailed tawse instead."

* * *

"Lower, come on, touch your toes!"

The corset creaked as Betsy tried to comply. If she had been allowed to unhook it altogether, she might have had a chance, but with the stiff whalebone resisting every inch it was quite hopeless. She was red-faced from exertion as much as humiliation now, and the effort was making her pant and her breasts heave. All the time, as she struggled, Master Jamie stood at perfect ease beside her, sipping his brandy, and letting the thick tawse swing languidly from side to side in his right hand.

"Come on, you can do better than that!"

Again, Betsy tried to bend further, fighting against resilient whalebone. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't."

"In my school -" the young man took a final swig and set the glass down on an occasional table, "-there was a master, Mr Whitstable by name. He always used to tell us that there is no such word as 'can't'.

Betsy tried to stifle a little wail as she sensed him move into position at her side, and just a little to the rear.

"Quite absurd, of course," Master Jamie continued. "After all, how could he have spoken the word if it didn't exist?"

Betsy knew it was coming now, at last. She tensed herself and gripped her own legs as low down as she could manage, which was just above the knees.

"What he meant, of course -" Jamie murmured thoughtfully. There was a sickening hiss, followed by a loud retort and white fire shot through Betsy's upper thighs, making her grunt as she desperately fought the need to cry out in pain, " - was not that 'can't' doesn't exist - "

There was another hiss. Another even more explosive crack , and a stripe of flesh across the middle of Betsy's buttocks was on fire. The pain made her gasp for breath and desperately knead the fleshy thighs above her knees.

" - but that it was FORBIDDEN!"

Betsy let out a long and heartfelt sigh as the blaze of pain started to subside.

"Now, bend over further, Betsy."

She managed to fight the corset enough to let her grab her shins just below the knees.

"A little better, I suppose," Jamie said grudgingly. Betsy gritted her teeth as she sensed him raise the strap once again.

"Ooh, ooh, aah!"

"Stop whimpering, you silly girl." Jamie's words were stern but his tone was tolerant, even fond.

After the belting, he had allowed her to take the corset off and she now wore nothing but her woolen stockings. Betsy lay, snuffling, across her master's lap, as he sat on the chaise longue and applied cold cream liberally to her burning hind quarters.

She was usually less conscious of her behind than she was of her breasts but, right now, it was the other way round. The tawsing had not been the worst beating she had taken but Betsy had a special dislike for the split-tailed belt. It had been a new one, fresh from Mr Kimblewick the saddler in Hatherby. The strap was as thick as a finger, yet the leather was so flexible it felt like a whip. Betsy did not know how many strokes Master Jamie had given her, just that it had been too many. Her young master had taken his time, for time was his to take. The thrashing had been for his pleasure and he had made sure that he had taken it at his leisure. Betsy's role was but to bend over obediently and endure.

Still, there was pleasure for her now in his touch, and her sobs were sobs of relief more than pain. There was something indescribably delicious about the feeling of the cold ointment as it soothed her scalded skin and, though she had made little sound throughout the belting, she could not stop some gasps escaping as he stroked.

"Don't you tell Miss Amelia about this luxury treatment, Betsy," Jamie said with a chuckle, "or that haughty stuck-up little baggage will start expecting such privileges too."
Could Jamie be showing some favoritism here?  Will Amelia and Clara be introduced to the tawse in the morning? Stay tuned for further developments.
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, April 25, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for April 24

Do you or your partner feel privileged to receive spankings?

Six of the best: Hermione, I will put your question in reverse. Yes, I have been thankful that I have lived in societies where spankings as a sexual fantasy can be given. And I have been allowed to take a so called naughty ladies knickers down, and spanked her bare derriere with pleasure.

Yorkie: I consider it a privilege every single time my wife spanks me. The mere fact that I can share in such a private and intimate activity with my best friend and that she is willing (even though she hates it) to do it for me is euphoric in itself. I am truly grateful to her and I tell her every day and show her as often as I can.

Arched one: I do feel privileged each and every time she spanks me be it erotic or punishment. She went from being vanilla to really enjoying spanking me she also decides when a spanking will take place.

Roz: I do feel privileged to have someone who shares an interest in spanking and for the benefits the lifestyle has brought to our relationship. Greater intimacy and connection.

Bonnie: Yes, absolutely. Our lives would be less satisfying without this essential part of our relationship. We are very fortunate.

Sir Wendel: I am very lucky to have found someone who enjoys getting and giving spankings as much as I do. I always feel privileged to get paddled by such a wonderful woman not matter how sore my back end might be.

Emerging Lurker: Yes, I feel very lucky that my husband is game to play.

Ronnie: Oh yes spanking is a real privilege to have someone who shares my love of spanking. When I'm over P's lap it makes me happy. It's very special.
Hermione: I'll make it unanimous. I am very lucky to have a husband who is on the same wavelength, and who enjoys giving spankings as much as I enjoy receiving them. It was a happy accident that the chemistry was there.

Thank you all for sharing.
From Hermione's Heart