Monday, September 30, 2013

From the Top Shelf - Honey, I'm Home

"Honey, I'm Home" is a short story from the So Spank Me! collection by Jay Lawrence and Edmund Debarquet. A fifties husband shows his wife that he is head of the house.

"Mommy! Mommy! Tommy won't let me watch The Lone Ranger!"

I looked down at the moon-faced little girl in the short plaid dress. Her big brown eyes threatened to spill angry tears down her freckle speckled cheeks.

"Boys will be boys, Janie. Where is Lucy-Ann? I hope you haven't left her out in the yard again."

My nine-year-old daughter stifled a sob and rubbed at her brimming eyes.

"But I don't want to play with dolls, Mommy. I want…"


Crisply, I placed a finger over Janie's pouting lips.

"Remember! 'I want' never gets. Don't you know your manners yet?"

"But it's not fair!"

Life isn't fair, Janie. You'll discover that truth soon enough.

"That's it, young lady. Run along and play!"

I watched my little girl wander dejectedly into the yard, dragging her sandal-clad feet through the closely clipped grass. The screen door closed slowly behind her. Muffled sounds of gunfire and Apache war cries issued from the basement. Briskly, I tied a clean apron over my dress and began to make some Jell-o for the children's evening meal. A car pulled into the driveway and I glanced anxiously at the kitchen clock. Surely it couldn't be that time already?

"Hi, honey. What's for dinner? I could eat a horse!"

My husband tossed his hat onto the Formica topped table, then wrapped his arms around my waist. I wriggled in the tight embrace and giggled uncomfortably.

"Good heavens, Dick! You're like a boa constrictor! Do mind my hair!"

I reached up to touch my new coiffure, the result of a lengthy shampoo and set session at the local beauty parlor. Smirking, Dick released me, whistled in admiration, then gave my bottom a loving pat.

"Very pretty, I'm sure. So, what's cooking, wifey? I sure don't smell anything."

He took off his jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, then began to lift the lids off the saucepans on top of the range. Biting my bottom lip in chagrin, I finished mixing the Jell-o and poured the hot red liquid into several Melamine bowls. One of the saucepan lids clattered onto the stove top and I jumped, startled. I looked up meekly to see my husband standing with his arms folded across his chest, glaring at me through his horn rimmed spectacles. I set the dishes of Jell-o to cool and made to confess, my cheeks as warm and scarlet as the dessert.


"Well, vanity, thy name is woman! Have you any idea how hungry I am, June? It's a sad day when a man comes home from work to an empty plate!"

I swallowed hard and looked at the toes of my high-heeled shoes. He was right, of course. There was absolutely no excuse. Shamed, I fidgeted with the frilled hem of my apron. What would his mother say if she found out? I'd never hear the end of it.

"There's some salad and left-over meat loaf in the refrigerator…"

"Leftovers! You expect your husband to eat scraps?"

"No, sir."

I gazed out of the kitchen window, through the fine net curtains, at Janie, swinging slowly on the garden seat. She seemed to be singing softly to herself. Her doll lay discarded on the grass. With a start, I realized that my husband was locking the screen door and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs.


"A lesson for you, madam!"

My heart leapt in my chest as he advanced upon me, rolling up his sleeves. I shrank back against the stainless steel sink as Dick's strong hands grasped my wrists and pulled me to the center of the room. The gunfire in the basement reached a crescendo as my husband bent me over the kitchen table.


His furious fingers found the hem of my dress and snatched it up to my waist, exposing my legs and bottom. There was a brief pause, during which I knew he was appraising the backs of my thighs, the soft smooth expanse of flesh between my stocking tops and panties.

"Panties on – or on the bare?"

I dared not answer his question. Terrified, I closed my eyes and waited for his decision.

"On the bare, I think."

Slowly, he peeled my panties from my quivering buttocks. My face flushed even deeper with the shame of exposure. What if Tommy were to rush into the kitchen? I strained my ears to listen for the familiar theme tune of his favorite show but all was quiet. My panties slid down to my ankles, where they rested in an impotent heap. With a sudden rush of embarrassment, I realized that I had become very moist between my legs.

"I hate to do this, June, I really do. But you must understand that it's for your own good. Really, it hurts me more than it hurts you."

"Yes, Dick."

Resolutely, I raised my naked bottom for his disciplining hand. It wasn't often that he felt it necessary to spank me. And I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it did us both a world of good. My heart was beating like a little tin drum as the first sharp slap landed on my trembling rear.


Dick enjoyed tanning me. I could tell from the way his breathing changed, became quicker, with a slight gasp to it. I knew he loved exercising his manly power over his little wife, just as he delighted in pushing his thing between my thighs when we lay in bed. It was the thrill of capture. What he didn't know was how much I enjoyed being spanked.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

He had picked up a rubber spatula from the jar on the counter and proceeded to apply it with gusto to my rapidly heating behind. I knew my buttocks looked just like the cheeks of my face, warm and scarlet. I imagined that I was on the kitchen ceiling, looking down, admiring his powerful, sinewy arms as they administered a stringent whipping. My bottom wobbled slightly, like the Jell-o in the yellow bowls. It quivered with each sharp slap and my whole body shifted and wriggled from side to side. I knew Dick wanted to unfasten his pants and push his thing deep within my soaking cleft.

"Oh, oh, oh!"

Sometimes the sensations were so pleasurable they would quite overcome me. I jolted as if I'd had an electric shock. I knew that Dick's pants were full and stretched by his thing, his solid, straining thing, which yearned to pierce me. Sometimes I had to push my fingers into my mouth to stifle my ecstatic cries. Oh, if he only knew!

"And that, madam, is what happens when you choose to neglect your household duties!"

His fingers felt cool against my throbbing bottom. Slowly, shamefully, I pulled up my panties, which immediately clung to the moist oasis between my thighs, causing tiny thrilling aftershocks to surge through my excited body. I tidied my dress as Dick unlocked the screen door and Tommy came clattering up the basement stairs.

"Pop! You should have seen what happened on The Lone Ranger tonight!"

My husband laughed and ruffled our son's short hair affectionately. I opened the refrigerator and took out the meat loaf and the bowl of salad, as Tommy went charging out of the kitchen door and into the yard with a blood-curdling war cry. Dick grinned.

"Boys will be boys."

"Yes, darling."

How fortunate I was to be married to a real man! Singing gaily, I prepared the evening meal, as my poor, tired husband put his feet up and began to read the newspaper.

Isn't she lucky!

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Complete the Caption

Spankos all over the world enjoy the sight of a lovely bottom. What do you make of this exquisite sight? (The legend on her waistband translates as "The best meat" in English.)

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your submissions in the next post.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, September 27, 2013

Friday FAIL

Some of my favourite grammatical FAILs involve the misuse of the apostrophe. No, not the one by Healey Willan. I mean the little comma that hangs in the air and causes so much confusion.

Keep on adding them whenever a word ends in S -  that seems to be the rule for most shopkeepers. The more the merrier, right?

Add an extra R to be on the safe side. Bravo!

Why not skip that pesky apostrophe altogether?

You can spot the incorrect use of the apostrophe right away at the bottom of the note, but read the whole thing carefully and see how many other errors you can detect. Keep in mind that this was written by the educators of your children.

Go back to school, iPhone.

Curse you, AutoCorrect!

From Hermione's Heart

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Wednesday WIN

Sometimes things are not as they seem at first glance.

What could be more fun than a glass of wine and a spanking? The sign seems to show a person running with a glass in one hand and a paddle in the other. At least, that's how I interpret it. (Thank you, Joey, for this fun image.)

This book by well-known English novelist Jilly Cooper comes complete with its own paddle, to ensure marital harmony. As I have mentioned before, Jilly's heroines are no strangers to paddling.

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Moon Me

The largest supermarkets in our city have an assortment of products from all over the world to suit the needs of our diverse ethnic population. Last month I saw a mouth-watering variety of moon cakes on display. None, however, looked like this:

In Singapore, they serve a "T-back" mooncake, made for a mid-autumn festival. In Cantonese, the 15th day of the eighth lunar month is a colloquial euphemism for buttocks. The mooncakes are inspired by the Chinese phrase “ba yue shi wu” which means August 15, but  also means “buttocks” in Cantonese.

For the full scoop on mooncakes, and lots of great pictures, go to

Thank you, Tommy, for sharing this with us.

From Hermione's Heart

Monday, September 23, 2013

From the Top Shelf - The Reckoning

The Reckoning, published by Blue Moon books, is a collection of short stories by Rachel King. This selection is from one of the stories, called "Coping with Jilly" and for a change, we begin in the middle, part way through Jilly's first spanking. What naughtiness did she get up to that earned her a bottom-warming? I'll leave that to your imagination, but she must have provoked him severely.

Robert was really hurting her now. The seat of her trousers felt hot and sore, and each time his hand exploded with a resounding 'SPLAT!' on her poor outraged behind, it seemed to inflame the nerve endings and produce an electric shock that made her wriggle like an eel across his lap, causing her big brown eyes to mist over with tears.

He must have smacked her thus for several minutes - though it felt more like half an hour to Jilly - before he finally stopped. She lay there over his knee - hot, breathless and panting.

Robert, however, was even more out of breath than Jilly. He made a mental note to spend more time in the gym, since he clearly wasn't as fit as he supposed. His right hand smarted and ached every bit as much as Jilly's bottom. Yet he still hadn't achieved the effect he desired. There were no proper tears - only one or two self pitying snuffles. He knew if he let her get up now she'd have won the day - and she'd never let him forget it. Things would be back to where they were with Jilly calling the tune.

No. Since he'd embarked on such a drastic course of action he'd have to go the whole hog and break her spirit. But how?

Her trousers! He'd make her take them off. It was the taut trouser fabric that was hurting his hand , as well as providing much too much protection for Jilly's bottom.

"Get up Jilly" he said brusquely. Thinking it was all over, she lifted herself thankfully off his lap and turned towards him, a sultry pout of derision on her face.

When Robert told her to remove her trousers, her face fell and she blushed, more crimson than before.

"Don't make me tell you again, Jilly, just do as I say. If you don't I'll damn well rip them off myself!" he snapped, reveling in the power he wielded over her.

Jilly was about to protest bitterly when she noticed the steely determination in Robert's eyes. He really did mean it and she hated to think of her only pair of decent trousers ruined beyond repair. So, for once in her life, she did as she was told.

Jilly was in fact a painfully shy girl, and she'd never done such an intimate thing as take down her trousers in front of a boy before. Her hands shook so much that all sorts of silly things went wrong. The front button refused to unbutton and she tugged so hard at it that it flew off and nearly hit Robert in the face. Neither of them thought it was funny. Then the zipper got caught in a thread of cotton from her tee-shirt and Robert had to help her free it.

Jilly felt hot and sticky from nervous perspiration. Her trousers stuck to her legs and she had quite a job peeling them off. She was aware of Robert's eyes watching her every move, eager and possessive.

She felt intensely humiliated that he'd spanked her, yet mingled with her burning resentment was an element of sneaking admiration that he'd actually been man enough to do it...that he'd conquered and subdued her will so effectively that there she was standing in front of him in nothing but her tee-shirt, panties and socks - fearfully awaiting a further dose of what he'd already given her. Only this time she knew from childhood experience that it was going to hurt a damn sight more in just her knickers.

Unaware of what she was doing, she put her hands down the back of her brief white nylon panties and, to comfort herself, began caressing her sore maltreated bottom...However on the wall behind Jilly there hung a large oval, gilt framed mirror in which Robert could observe a most interesting rear view of her: the bikini style panties disappearing into the intriguing valley of her bottom cleft; her bottom cheeks pink and blushing from the spanking he had already given them. They looked almost comical with their hot, glowing rubescence - like a clown's make up - and effectively sabotaged what little dignity she still possessed.

Robert suppressed a chuckle, then hauled the crimson faced Jilly back across his lap and began spanking her all over again.

Poor Jilly. I do hope she learned her lesson. Or did she instead learn to love spanking? Inquiring minds want to know!

From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, September 22, 2013

You Completed the Caption

Isn't romance wonderful? Many of you thought so, but then there were others... Read on!

Kingspan: The bride bent every one of the men over for a paddling when she realized they'd been out all night at a bachelor party. The most common reaction was, "If we'd known she'd do that for free, we wouldn't have had to pay for a domme last night..."

Katie: "It's the man who wears the pants in your marriage!! Don't ever forget! Even when things are... down???"

GaryNTboy: Looks like those cheap braces weren't such a good idea after all...

Michael: "What else would you expect at a wedding of a Chippendales dancer."
(How did you get this photo of our (Season and Michael's) wedding, young lady?) 

Daisy Christian: LOL my nephew is about to get married and I showed my son and we agreed that my nephew would do that at his wedding.

Ronnie: Kelly was joking when she dared Matt and his rugby mates to take their trousers down for the wedding photos.

Six of the best: The bride said "Spanks for the memories", to each of these best men at her wedding. As for the bridegroom. she said with a wink in her eye. "Tonight my ass is yours forever".

Vfrat25000: Since the bride was a history major, she decided it would be appropriate to recreate the “Boxer Rebellion” during her wedding.

The groomsman’s gift for this wedding is a free prostate exam. Everybody get ready.

The wedding industry was in shambles after it was discovered that men’s wedding clothing manufacturer Acme Trouser Company was using defective zippers

Detective Adams, it does not appear that your idea about where the missing wedding ring was being hidden has proven true.

No matter how hard they tried, the boys from Manchester could never quite grasp that pant sagging gangster look but it was not without trying.

A. Lurker: "Pants on the ground
Pants on the ground
Lookin' like fools
with your
Pants on the ground"

Baxter: Good. Now you guys can't play pocketpool thinking about what a vixen I will be like on my wedding night with my new husband. And you with those blue boxers, get with the plan and get real men's underwear.

Lumasoc: His wife wants to remember her husband, that the pants at home, she will be to take them, and once at home, you will take a good sound spanking and, as happens with other guests, with their wives. A new world, where women are in control and men to obey, with lowered breeches.

Welcome, Lumasoc!

Anon: WOW! She got eight guys-EIGHT-to drop their ONE time...She's a...a...Sub Whisperer!

Prefectdt: OK lads. Last one naked is the designated driver for the reception.

Hermione: Not even their best friend's wedding could interfere with the dress rehearsal for the local amateur theatre production of The Full Monty.

Thank you, everyone, for your inspired captions on this first day of Autumn.

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Complete the Caption

Some countries have very strange wedding traditions. Can you decide what is in store for these willing and eager gentlemen?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your contributions in the next post.

If you haven't joined in before, please give it a try. Every caption is a winner, and you can remain anonymous if you wish.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, September 20, 2013

Friday FAIL

Its time for another shopping trip to Wally World. I'm running low on bad bottom pictures, but there are plenty of other FAILs at this ever-popular emporium.

 Why state the obvious?

 Very mysterious labelling. What happens if I do?

 You don't see deals like this at Target.

 Sometimes a gal gets distracted by all the bargains and loses track of her kids.

So say we all!

From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Stop the Spanking!

We all enjoy spanking for one reason or another, but sometimes the one on the receiving end feels the need for a little more control. Have you ever wished that you could press a pause button and take a little break, or rewind to the beginning and start over when you thought the spanking was nearing the end?

Ron sent me the link below, and while it isn't about spanking per se, I think the idea is right, and a clever person  could modify it to suit an OTK situation.

When the video pauses, press PLAY to make it continue. It's some interactive fun, and very creative.

From Hermione's Heart

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Wednesday WIN

Today let's take a trip down memory lane. Many of you might remember back in the 1980s when personal computers first came out. For those of you who have never known life without the internet, hold onto your mousepads.

How many times have you struggled with a Word formatting problem? Wasn't it easier with a typewriter and a little correction fluid?

Who remembers Clippy? He was the little animated office assistant who helped you figure out how to use Microsoft products. A help file with attitude.

It took big bucks to have a small fraction of the processing capacity we all take for granted today.

For those of you who don't understand this, let me explain. Before Windows was developed, there was DOS. No icons, no wallpaper, no Start menu, just a black screen where you typed your commands beside the C prompt. If you typed something the computer didn't understand, it would helpfully display the message "Syntax Error". Now sing along...

Lolcats didn't exist way back then, but systems crashed just as often.

From Hermione's Heart

Monday, September 16, 2013

From the Top Shelf - Une bonne fessee

Today's selection is from "The Awakening" in Jacqueline Ophir's short story collection, Fellowship of the Rod. It is about a little French girl from days gone by, who becomes obsessed with the idea of spanking. Her curiosity leads to a wonderful discovery.

From that day forwards, Suzette became fixated on her new and intoxicating area of interest. Taking care never to incur correction herself - girls were punished in any case less frequently than boys - she was a critical and refined spectator of all other executions. This meant something in the order of three punishments a week, almost always boys. Suzette found herself becoming almost faint with pleasure at the anticipation of an imminent chastisement. Not from cruelty, or at least not exclusively from this motive. Other forces were at work, a sense of theatre - she loved the drama of these occasions, the inevitable sequence of events, like a Greek play, a sense of style and artistry - she adored the graceful motion of the birch as it clove the air with a faint whispering whirr, to land with a flick slantwise across the posterior of the delinquent. This music, with its necessary counterpoint of entreaty, protest and simple distress, filled her young heart with ecstasy...

When Suzette was twelve she discovered the engraving.

It was in a history book which reposed on the shelves of the school's modest library. Idle one afternoon, when there was no school, Suzette went down to the Lambercier dwelling, knocked, and asked if she might spend an hour or two looking at the books. M. Lambercier, who answered the door, was pleased with this sign of nascent erudition in Suzette, and gave her the key. The first book she chose to browse through was a Lives of the Kings of France from Charles the Great to a century or so before her own time. She opened it, turned a page - and there was the drawing.

It was a woodcut of a medieval lady of noble blood applying a vigorous birch rod to the bottom of a boy tucked under her left arm. Actually it was an episode in the early life of Louis III but to Suzette it was much, much more. It was a symbol, a totem, a depiction of the cherished scene of her obsession.

She noticed presently that the lady wore a crown and was thus a Queen. This, for Suzette, was a fitting detail. Every lady who whips, imposing her will by main force, is queen for a short while, she thought, writhing in pleasure as she gazed at the spellbinding drawing.

Thereafter she often came and looked at the books in the library, whenever she had an hour or two to spare, in fact. The picture never ceased to enthrall her. She began to make up stories to account for the depicted drama. What mischief had the little prince committed? She decided it was disobedience. How many strokes of the pendant birch had he received across the seat of his hose? Suzette was a little disappointed that the princely bottom was not bare, so she bared it in her imagination, but came to grief with the fastenings, not knowing how one undid medieval hose.

What had the Queen, the stern mother, said? "Viens ici..." said Suzette aloud in a severe tone "...Tu avais ete tres, tres, mechant, et je vais te donne une bonne fessee!" Pleased with the ring of authority in these simple phrases, she repeated them, savouring and drawing out the last three words - "une bonne fessee" [a good spanking] with extra emphasis and inflexion. In her mind's eye, she saw the pretty little royal child, the look of dismay spreading across his elfin features and, still in the grip of her imagination, she leaned forward, picked up the little boy, tucked him under her arm and raised the menacing birch high in the air and began the punishment...

I can recall a small picture I once found in a set of encyclopedias we had at home. It was an engraving of a monk being birched on the bare, while his brother monks looked on. Although I pored over every other volume in the set, that was the only spanking picture I found. Needless to say, it was a very useful reference that I returned to again and again.

From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, September 15, 2013

You Completed the Caption

These lovely young ladies had your imaginations working overtime. Here's what you said:

Sunnygirl: I'm going to measure so we make those pants skin tight so they hug those curves just right.

DelFonte: So I should tell him to aim above the line...?

Prefectdt: This is the cover photo from the book "Body Painting And Body Art, The Early Days".

Six of the best: It's a pleasure to measure a cane mark's treasure.

Baxter: I will make sure all the spanks with the paddle and cane are above the line.

Welcome, Baxter!

 Mike: OK, so anything below the line, 12 inches below your bum, is a foot fault...

Ronnie: "If I can draw lines that look like you've been caned maybe Miss Pritchard will think you have and let you off with a warning."

Ricky: Are my seams straight?
No, not after that spanking!

Hermione: When Mary ran out of drawing paper, she continued her sketching on the nearest available surface.

Thank you to everyone who participated. Next week, I'll have something special for you to caption.

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Complete the Caption

Sometimes a girl needs a little help with her attire. What is the special occasion these two are preparing for?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your contributions in the next post.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, September 13, 2013

Friday FAIL

It's Friday the 13th, a day considered very unlucky by some. Don't let a black cat (also considered to be unlucky and otherwise known as basement cat) cross your path today. Watch out for those fearsome felines and walk the other way!

So why are these little sweeties considered FAILs? Because they failed to frighten me. I wouldn't run away from any of them.

Stay safe today!

From Hermione's Heart