Sunday, October 22, 2017

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #199

Welcome to our weekly brunch get-together; I'm so glad you could make it! Here in the northern hemisphere the weather is becoming cooler, and the cold and flu season is nearly upon us, so please enjoy some hot soup as we discuss today's topic.

Have you ever told a doctor, nurse, therapist or other medical practitioner about your enjoyment of spanking? Do you take any precautions before a medical appointment to avoid or hide bruises or marks?

Leave your response in the comments section below, and once everyone has had a chance to speak I will publish a summary of our discussion.

From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, October 21, 2017

You Completed the Caption

KDPierre: (Girl on left) "Like my new Halloween costume? I'm going as a 'cliche'."

(Girl on right) Though Ms. Flossbottom's course always had a waiting list, and no student ever skipped a class, later evaluations showed that not only did her pupils have no grasp of the subject matter...but most could not say what the subject even was.

Anon 1: Janet, my partner, will always spank when I dress like this.

Dave: After studying both photos , I sadly realize there isn't enough blood in my body to support an erection AND a witty comment. Sorry.

No need to apologize, Dave!

Anon 2: (both girls) There are 2 of us and we come as a team. We have different tastes. We will both come over. But you have to decide which of us you really want to know.

Baxter: (Girl on left) Yeah I know what you are thinking,looking at my butt, but trust me, you will be over my knee getting your bottom warmed with my hairbrush before you can protest or run away.

Anon 3: (Girl on left) So my girl, this is what you think appropriate to wear to school do you? Well a jolly good otk spanking will erase that idea from your pretty little head...

(Girl on right) Defiance will get you nowhere my girl now take that look off your face and get over the desk now so I can teach that pert little bottom of yours the meaning of respect...

Sir Wendel: Detention after school always included a spanking.

Ronnie: What are you waiting for, It's not going to spank itself?

Jack: (Girl on the left) "...but, I didn't do it!"
(Girl on the right) "... I did! What are you going to do about it?"

(Girl on the left) "What ... are ... you ... looking ... at?"
(Girl on the right) "Yes! WHAT are YOU looking at??!!"

(Both girls) Discipline Time


Hermione: (Both girls) Felicity and Samantha enjoyed sharing a room at Miss Clement's Academy, although Samantha liked it a bit less when Felicity got out the ruler.

For more fun and games, and maybe a little discipline, please come back for brunch. It will be served in the schoolroom in a few hours.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, October 20, 2017

Friday FAIL

More fun with IKEA
























My favourite...


Don't forget to Complete the Caption!
From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Complete the Caption

My readers and I have been enjoying the ongoing story of tutor Mr. Lennox and his wayward pupil, Elizabeth,  so I thought it would be fun to suggest a caption for a naughty schoolgirl. I have given you two choices: the provocative young woman on the left, and the dommish lady on the right. Caption one or both, or put them together in a situation. Let's have fun with this one!

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish the naughty list on Saturday.
From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

From the Top Shelf - In a Mist, Chapter 6


The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

I did a little online research and it seems that this might be an early work of  James Jennings, published by Blue Moon Books. I am not familiar with this author, but maybe some of my readers are.

Now let us see how Elizabeth complies with her tutor's order to dress appropriately for the schoolroom. I'm afraid there is no spanking in this chapter, but there is plenty to stimulate your imagination, I assure you.
IN A MIST - Chapter 6 - In which Elizabeth discovers more than her school uniform

Elizabeth closed the schoolroom door behind her and, acutely aware of her throbbing bottom, walked stiffly and painfully along the oak panelled corridor that led to her bedroom. It was named "The Pink Room" because of the colour of its walls and was by far the prettiest room in Lymchurch House, exuding an irresistible childish femininity. A gaily painted dolls house and a large wooden rocking chair stood in one corner, while tucked up in bed, their sleepy heads reclining against the pillows, lay the half dozen teddy bears she had had since she was tiny.

A hanging wardrobe, a mahogany chest of drawers, dressing table with pink velvet upholstered stool, two cane seated chairs, and one little chintz-covered armchair completed the furnishings. Pink floral curtains hung at the window and a pink woollen carpet covered the floor. The big bow window with a low sill guarded by an iron grille overlooked the drive with a side view of the top of the rose-covered pergola.

Eager to carry out her tutor's instructions straight away, Elizabeth immediately rang for Florence and explained that she wished to have a word with Mrs. Anderson. Noticing the bloom in her young mistress's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, Florence was bold enough to enquire how she had enjoyed her first day back at school.

Normally Elizabeth would have snapped her head off, telling Florence to mind her own business and not to be so impertinent, so the maid was quite taken aback when she smiled shyly and said "Thank you, Florence, the day went splendidly. I have already learnt a lot of things I didn't know before."

Strange, Florence thought, looking at her mistress. Who'd have thought that Miss Elizabeth of all people would enjoy being cooped up on such a lovely day in that stuffy old schoolroom!

"Florence, a word before you go," Elizabeth added, remembering the cruel way she'd treated the maid the previous evening. "I'm truly sorry I got you into trouble with Mr. Harker. It was mean and spiteful of me - will you forgive me?"

Florence, her bottom still black and blue from Tomm's belt, seriously began to doubt her mistress' sanity. Miss Elizabeth had never deigned to apologise to a soul before, let alone to a mere parlour maid. Was this some kind of practical joke?

How odd it was that both girls were suffering from smarting bottoms - Florence infinitely more so - yet neither one had the slightest inkling about the other's affliction.

"Here -" Elizabeth went and extracted from the chest of drawers several pairs of panties in purest silk, like the pair she had on, as well as a satin underslip. She pressed them into the hands of the astonished maid, saying, "Here, take these - then at least I can feel I have made it up to you in some way." Winking slyly she whispered, "Have no fear, I promise not to tell on you a second time! Now go and deliver my message to Mrs. Anderson."

"Thank you, Miss, oh thank you!" the delighted maid stammered.

Then, concealing the illicit garments beneath her pinafore, she went joyfully about her duties, shaking her head in wonder at the extraordinary change that had come over her mistress.

While waiting for the housekeeper to come Elizabeth went to sit down on the low ottoman at the foot of the bed, her favourite perch during moments of contemplation. But as soon as her tender bottom touched the leather upholstered surface she shot to her feet with a loud exclamation, as if she had sat on a drawing pin.

She had no alternative, therefore, but to receive Mrs. Anderson standing up. Like all the other occupants of Lymchurch House, with the sole exception perhaps of Mr. Tomms, she was rather afraid of Mrs. Anderson, who in her childhood nightmares had appeared as a wicked witch flying through the air on her broomstick, and Elizabeth wasn't exactly looking forward to putting her strange request about the school uniform to the forbidding old woman.

Indeed the housekeeper was not at all well disposed to being summoned at that hour when she was busy in the kitchen supervising the cook and the kitchen maids in preparation for dinner. She cursed her young mistress loudly as she laboured up the stairs, suspecting it to be another of Miss Elizabeth's stupidly childish hoaxes with which she continually plagued the servants.

She was partially pacified to learn, on entering the room, that she had not been sent on a fool's errand, and was able to give directions as to the exact whereabouts in the laundry-room of the garments that Elizabeth required. Elizabeth hastily offered to go and collect them herself, leaving Mrs. Anderson free to return immediately to her duties below stairs. Much to Elizabeth's relief the housekeeper made no reference to why her mistress should suddenly be asking for her old school uniform after all these years. Elizabeth thanked heavens that, bad-tempered though she was, Mrs. Anderson was much too dourly aloof to be a busybody.

Minutes later Elizabeth's old school clothes lay in a pile on her pink floral bedspread. She had not fetched the blazer. Her tutor had expressed no interest in that. But there were four white blouses, washed and ironed, with all the buttons intact, as well as the two grey skirts, their pleats immaculately folded.

Tentatively she held one of the skirts up against her waist and looked at herself in the mahogany-framed mirror. As she had feared, the skirt would only just be long enough to conceal the tops of her stockings. She would only have to stretch or bend slightly and whole areas of naked white thigh would be embarrassingly exposed. The thought made her heart flutter with apprehension. Would Mr. Lennox like what he saw, she wondered anxiously. She was justly proud of her long shapely legs and for a moment she toyed with the idea of trying the costume on there and then to judge its effect, but she knew Mr. Lennox would only accuse her of being vain. Besides, it was an outfit meant specifically for the schoolroom, not the bedroom, so she put the articles carefully away in the bottom drawer of her mahogany chest.

Then she considered the question of underwear. She had no slips or petticoats short enough so she fetched scissors, needle and white thread from her sewing basket and, cutting two broderie anglaise underslips down to the required length, she quickly and expertly stitched the new hems.

There was no problem what to wear beneath the blouses. She would stick to the little white shimmies she always wore next to her skin. She never wore brassieres, feeling the same way about them as she did corsets.

She had a vast collection of stockings of every colour to match her gowns and frocks. But she knew instinctively he would want her to wear black ones.

As for garter belts her white satin ones would have to do for the time being. But flicking through a copy of The Lady's Realm she found a small advertisement displaying white cotton ones, the type generally worn by senior schoolgirls. She would ask her guardian for the money as a special favour (she had grossly overspent her dress allowance that month) and send for several.

Panties were the only real problem. The frilly silk and lace ones she habitually wore would look incongruous beneath those tiny pleated skirts. She searched desperately in her underwear drawer and discovered a couple of pairs of plain cotton knickers she'd forgotten she owned. They were fluffy and fleecy and had never been worn. She was sure Mr. Lennox would not object to her bottom being snugly and demurely attired in those, and she again consulted The Lady's Realm in order to send off for a sufficient quantity for a clean pair to be worn every day.

Shoes? Definitely not high heels. Black court shoes with a slight heel would fit the bill perfectly. There now, everything was settled.

She could not work out exactly why, but for some peculiar reason Elizabeth had found the task of choosing appropriate clothes to be schooled and punished in, perversely exciting. She had even found herself patting the seat of the cotton panties she would be wearing the next day, imagining the feel of his hand landing there.

Quickly slipping off her dress and petticoat she put her hand down between her legs to confirm what she'd strongly suspected. She'd soaked the crotch of her panties with her juices.

She moved over to the mirror. Drawing the curtains so as not to be seen from the garden, she drew her panties down to her knees and slowly bent over, facing away from the mirror and looking over her shoulder so that she could see the reflected image of her bottom.

Had he found her bottom pleasing when he'd hoisted up her skirt and petticoat to spank it? She blushed, hoping that he'd liked what he'd seen, since he so obviously intended to get better acquainted with it over the next few months.

It pouted prettily back at her in the mirror as it swayed lazily from side to side. Patches of red were still there, especially on the rounded summits. Now that the fiery pain had abated, it itched and tingled deliciously. It certainly did look disgracefully smackable in all its naughty prominence. She really couldn't blame him for putting her over his knee and spanking those bouncy little hillocks as hard and thoroughly as he had.

Opening her legs wider she bent over still further until the division between her bottom-cheeks was fully revealed.

"Oh heavens, is this what he will see when he prepares me for the cane?" she gasped. As well as the delicate little opening of her anus she was presented with a clear view of her other larger orifice, dilated and moist, the lips unfolding like the petals of a flower.

Galvanised by what she saw, and by the dark steamy fantasies churning in her head, she began to masturbate. She'd been building up to this, perversely denying herself the pleasure of it until finally she could delay it no longer. Savagely she thrust two fingers deep inside her opening, not even caring if she tore the sensitive flesh in the fury of her need.

It didn't take her long to get there. Soon she convulsed and went rigid, sobbing and groaning with pleasure before sinking lifeless to the floor.

Minutes later she rose unsteadily to her feet, removing her panties altogether and using them to wipe away the sticky libation between her legs. Then, still in shimmy. garter-belt and stockings, she fell into bed and straight-away fell asleep.

That evening Mr. Harker declared himself delighted with the prodigious change that had come over his ward. The change was evident in every word she spoke and every movement she made. She gazed at Lennox dreamily and blushed whenever he spoke to her. The very pores of her skin seemed to glow with some mystical inner radiance.

"How ever did you manage it, my boy," the old man asked in amazement at the end of the meal, after Elizabeth had risen from the table, kissed him fondly on the cheek, bade Lennox a blushing good night, and departed for bed. "I had been led to expect great things from you - but to have accomplished all that -" he pointed a spidery finger at Elizabeth's empty chair " - in just one day is nothing short of miraculous!"

After a short while, Mr. Harker too went up to bed, leaving Lennox to linger over his port and cigar, pleasantly reliving the happenings of the day. The bow window was open and the curtains still undrawn to let in the warm sweet might air. He sat pensively in the fragrant stillness broken only by the throaty cooing of doves from the little dove-cote above the stables.

Heavy footsteps crunched across the gravelled drive. Tomms on his nightly rounds. His stern craggy face appeared at the open window. Tapping the pane curtly he said, "Make sure you close it properly before you go to bed, Mr. Lennox. Wouldn't do for us to be broken into during the night now, would it?"

"Rest assured I shall attend to it, Mr. Tomms. Goodnight to you." Lennox replied, a little put out that his agreeable daydreams had been disturbed by such a trivial matter as the fastening of a window.

Once in bed, sleep eluded him. Like a sponge his mind soaked up vivid images of the girl he had come to tutor. He imagined what it would be like to strip her of her layers of innocence and commit acts of unspeakable indecency upon her person. Then immediately he felt consumed with guilt for even daring to think such things.

He couldn't forgive himself that, as her appointed tutor pledged to mould her into a lady, he secretly thrilled to all those qualities in her which he had been engaged expressly to uproot. Despite his better judgment he thrilled to the sassy provocativeness of her walk, the gleam of devilment in her eye. He hoped fervently that the spankings hadn't cured her totally of her naughty behaviour else there would be nothing left in her to tame, no reason to punish her anymore.

But if that were the case then he would have to invent reasons, for he realised with a serious pang of misgiving that he was becoming seriously addicted to chastising his pupil's neat rounded little bottom. Long into the early hours he lay there in his bed, tossing fitfully, struggling to fight off an obsession that could well jeopardise his entire career. But it was useless - he was hopelessly under her spell.

The thought of her coming to him next morning dressed as a leggy schoolgirl inflamed him beyond all endurance. He knew he was sailing into deep and dangerous waters - but nothing could possibly make him alter his course.

It had never happened before with other girls he had taught. Some had been more beautiful than her, but they had been such dull timid creatures. He only had to punish them once, or just threaten them with the cane, and they would shrivel into instant obedience.

But with Elizabeth he instinctively knew that no single act of punishment would ever completely subdue her boundless spirit. No matter how severely he chastised her, her uncrushable nature would spring up again like a Phoenix rising from the fires.

He marvelled at her extraordinary response to being spanked. All the other girls he'd punished had hated it without exception and had all but expired from mortification.

But Elizabeth, although she had at first struggled and protested as much, if not more so, than his other pupils, had ended up reacting positively, almost passionately, to being spanked. Just as though it were satisfying some deep inner need.

He had never met a girl like her before, he declared in bewilderment, his conflicting emotions doing battle inside his head until they mingled together in a thick swirling mist.
Roll on the morrow! I am anxious to see the effect Elizabeth's attire has on Mr. Lennox, as I assume you are. You will have to wait until next week, though.
From Hermione's Heart

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

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #197


Welcome, dear friends, to a festive spanko brunch to celebrate Thanksgiving.in Canada. I hope you have a good appetite because the buffet is loaded with treats. While you are enjoying the feast, please consider this question that Bonnie first asked her readers eight years ago:

Have you ever made a bet that involved spanking? What were the circumstances in which the bet came about? did you win or lose?

Please leave your reply as a comment, and once everyone has had a chance to respond I will publish a summary of our conversation.
From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, October 7, 2017

You Completed the Caption

What's happening in the drawing room?


Sir Wendel: Lady Lucinda threw another tantrum in hopes of getting spanked but alas Lord Whilminton was too tire to do so.

Dave: What a party that was! We really raised the roof - Whoop, Whoop!

KDPierre:
Exuberant lady: "See, guys? Girls can 'manspread' too!"
Man on left: "Oh these are terrible times indeed."

Hands63: I can barely handle two women, but three! Someday they’ll invent a little blue pill.

Baxter:
Man on right: Lady, that is the pose but you are supposed to be lying over my lap, not sitting up.
Lady: Well, that might be more comfortable, but what would I be doing over your lap, pray tell?
Man on right: You would be getting a spanking on you plump bottom, of course.
Lady: Well good, I have been wanting one for quite a while.
Man on right: And when I get done spanking you, the other guy gets to spank you as well.
Lady: Wow, spanked by two men. my lucky day

Ronnie: Captain, oh my, what was that, Fredrick you're listening, can you hear what's going on in Sir Henry's study.

Katie: "Oh my stars and garters!! I had a feeling that there would be trouble ahead when those two polished off the third bottle of champagne. It's a damn good thing that Phillip is out like a light, or he'd be lighting up Abigail's bottom. Though I have a feeling that she may find herself up-ended tomorrow anyway. A sorry end to our fun party!"

Anon: As their servant called for the next contestant to take on Lady Penelope in a spanking contest she celebrated her victory over a worn out and dejected Lord Charles, once again having demonstrated that her bottom could withstand more than any man was capable of delivering.

Dr. Ken: Man on the left: "Well--judging by your reaction, madam, and by the way you, sir, are sitting, I think I can safely say that you enjoyed that spanking erotica story that I just read to you!"

Hermione: Well, Sir Francis, have you made up your mind yet? Which of our laps will you go over for a sound thrashing? Mine or His Lordship's?

I'm flabbergasted! What an exquisite assortment of captions! You all must stay for brunch--I insist. It's no trouble at all. Polly, fetch two dozen more chairs and be quick about it.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, October 6, 2017

Friday FAIL

Canadian Thanksgiving is coming up soon, and that makes me think of bountiful meals and edible decorations. So let's enjoy a few food FAILs today.


His brother must not have taken Nutrition 101.






Is  the grill not working today? Where's the beef?





Fish isn't "the other white meat" or, for that matter, the other red meat.





The Taco Light, for people counting their calories.






Get the paddle ready for the employee who posted this sign.


Before you leave, please feel free to Complete the Caption.

From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Complete the Caption

I love to look at Hogarth's paintings and imagine what really went on behind closed doors.  This painting is like a snapshot - imagine posing for hours in the lady's position! Something is definitely up with these three. What is their relationship, and why does the gentleman on the right look exhausted?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment, and I will publish your critiques on Saturday.
From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

From the Top Shelf - In a Mist, Chapter 4

The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

It's the first morning of a new term for Elizabeth. How will she and her tutor get on today?
IN A MIST - Chapter 4 - In which Elizabeth discovers her tutor to be a man of his word!

By the following morning Elizabeth had overcome her mealtime tantrum. In the light of day she thought twice about disobeying her tutor's injunction to present herself in the schoolroom at half past nine, for despite his attractive exterior there were things about him which unnerved and quite frightened her. His tall powerful body seemed a reservoir of male strength and vigour, and his deep-set aquamarine eyes had scrutinised her thoroughly, as if looking for a weak link in her armour.

The previous night, angry at the way he had made her appear small and foolish, she had vowed to retaliate by locking herself in her bedroom all day and refusing to come out. But that idea now seemed childish and silly. She could not remain there indefinitely.

Even so, she nurtured a burning resentment at the prospect of being stuck indoors and made to read boring books and write long tedious compositions on such a glorious May morning. The sun had risen above the tops of the trees, dappling the smooth verdant lawns with its rays. Beyond the outer wall the woods were a colourful mass of wild flowers. She gave a groan of martyrdom, slipped on a white muslin frock, and went down to breakfast.

Her usual healthy appetite deserted her. She was hard put to manage one slice of buttered toast and a cup of Indian tea. Her guardian, as was his custom, was breakfasting in his room (he rarely made an appearance before eleven) and she was inexpressibly relieved to discover that Mr. Lennox had already eaten and departed. His athletically mobile figure could be seen from the bow window, striding about the garden, enjoying the sunshine.

Ten minutes after the appointed time, Elizabeth, trying to look nonchalant and unconcerned, opened the white-panelled schoolroom door to find her tutor, wearing a long black academic gown over his crisp grey suit, already installed at the massive mahogany desk. A brand new blackboard and easel stood before the french windows, blocking out the magnificent view of the estuary and the sea.

At the other end of the room, the humbler pupil's desk - with chagrin she last remembered sitting at when she was fourteen - had been cleared of its accumulated bric-a-brac, and a neat pile of new exercise books placed on top. The little white pottery inkwell had been filled for the first time in years; and a selection of pens, their nibs gleaming brightly, lay in the correct place. A few feet away from the left hand wall, halfway between the teacher's desk and the door, stood an old leather upholstered dining chair.

The long black gown made Mr. Lennox look sterner and more threatening than the previous evening at dinner. Elizabeth felt silly and foolish, standing there uncertainly in the open doorway.

"Shut the door and come and stand in front of my desk," he said. "I want to have a little talk with you, to set matters straight between us before we commence."

She slammed the door and flounced over to him like a rebellious adolescent schoolgirl. Mr. Lennox fixed her with a severe disapproving gaze before beginning.

"You have more than reached the age of being a responsible young woman," he told her caustically, "but judging by the reports from your guardian - as well as the evidence of my own eyes - you rarely behave like one. Therefore, it will prove extremely salutary for you to return to being a pupil. But this time under much stricter discipline, by all accounts, than at the school you last attended."

Elizabeth glowered and raised her eyes heavenwards in exasperation at such a tiresome lecture. Choosing for the moment to ignore her impertinence, Lennox continued, "As long as you are in this classroom you will be under my sole jurisdiction. So it will be no earthly use complaining to your guardian about anything which may take place within these four walls - for I can assure you your complaints will fall on deaf ears. Your guardian has washed his hands of you - and I cannot say that I blame him, considering the trouble you have caused him over the years."

Elizabeth shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. She felt herself becoming hypnotised by his voice, which seemed to be growing deeper and stronger all the time. No one had ever spoken to her like this before, so sternly yet so calmly.

"I expect you, Elizabeth, to arrive here promptly at half past nine - not ten minutes late like you did today. Lessons will break off at mid-day for lunch, recommence at two, and finish for the day at half past four. I am at present preparing a curriculum timetable, which I shall display on the wall above your desk as soon as it is completed. Is that clear?"

She gaped in thunderstruck amazement. Was he being serious , or was this all just an elaborate joke?

"While in my schoolroom, you should expect to be treated like a schoolgirl - and punished like one, too."

She bristled with indignation, trying to summon up words sufficiently acerbic to express her feelings towards what he was saying. But before she could voice her opinions he began again:

"You must at all times be diligent, attentive, meek and respectful. You will address me as 'Sir.' And if you fail, in any way whatsoever, to come up to the mark, I shall punish you in a way I do not think you will enjoy one little bit - in spite of your insolent remarks yesterday evening, at dinner."

Punishment? Elizabeth looked blankly at Mr. Lennox. Punishment meant little more to her than being lectured or sent early to bed. "I do not understand you," she said sullenly, "Kindly explain."

"Sir," he corrected her.

"Sir," she repeated mechanically. She could have bitten off her tongue.

"Very well," he said with grim satisfaction, "I mean that I shall punish you by the only method which, in your case, I believe will be effective: corporal chastisement."

"Corporal...?" she echoed uncomprehendingly.

"Corporal - meaning punishment inflicted on the body. Since words clearly have no effect whatsoever on you, I am determined to resort to deeds. Let me make it quite clear, Elizabeth," he said, slowly and precisely to the bewildered girl, "if you as much as put a foot wrong, I shall take you across my knee and spank you soundly. But for more serious misdemeanours, such as disrespect, disobedience, lying, and persistent neglect of your studies, I shall give you a good whipping with this -" He got up and went to the narrow cupboard built into the thickness of the wall on the left of the fireplace. Opening the door, he took out a slender rattan cane which he swished menacingly at the girl - whose face registered, confusion, fear and outrage all at the same time.

She stared at the cane in disbelief. "You cannot mean it! Surely you don't intend to use that dreadful thing on me? It would be absolutely barbaric!...Sir," she added the final word in a diplomatic afterthought. "Besides, my guardian would never allow -"

"But I have already told you, Elizabeth," he said with a complacent smile, replacing the cane in the cupboard, "your guardian has granted me complete freedom in matters relating to your education. So it will be no good running to him in tears when your bottom is on fire after a caning."

"My...bottom?" she stammered, blushing to the roots of her hair, for she had naturally assumed he intended to cane her on the hands.

Elizabeth was consumed with mortification. His calmly spoken proposal to smack her with the palm of his hand was bad enough and unpardonably vulgar - for Elizabeth, though incorrigibly naughty, was by no means immodest. Her background had been far more sheltered than most girls of her age and class. But for Mr. Lennox to actually intend using a cane on her, as well as baldly apprising her of that portion of her anatomy on which it would be employed - as though she were nothing better than a common reform-school slut! Well there were some things a well brought-up girl could take - but this was definitely not one of them!

She would not stay any longer to be bullied and threatened by a mere schoolmaster in her guardian's employ. She turned and marched defiantly to the door, intent on finding Mr. Harker and having this horrid man dismissed on the spot.

But Lennox, who had been one of the swiftest sprinters at his school, easily beat her to it, locking the door and pocketing the key.

"No you don't, young lady!" he said, catching her by the wrist," You don't get away as easily as that! I'm afraid you're stuck with me, just as I'm stuck with you - and the sooner you realise it the better!"

"Let me go, you cruel beast!" she yelled, beating vainly at his chest with her dainty fist.

"How right I was!" Lennox cried, seizing the struggling girl by the waist and scooping her up effortlessly so that her long elegant white silk-stockinged legs kicked wildly at thin air. "There is only one way to teach you how to behave - and what better time to begin than now!"

With that he carried her, still kicking and protesting violently, over to the leather -seated dining chair and sat down on it. Then, pushing aside the folds of his gown, he bundled her face downwards across his knee. His right arm rose and fell with slow weighty deliberation as he began smacking her bottom over her thin muslin frock.

Elizabeth, dazed by the alacrity with which it had all happened, couldn't help wondering if it was all a bad dream. But when she felt Lennox's broad heavy hand descend on her pert, pampered little backside, her whole body went rigid with shock. It wasn't just a dream after all, she really was receiving the first proper spanking of her entire life!

She took a deep breath then, acutely aware of the growing heat in her buttocks as the stinging smacks fell inexorably upon them. Elizabeth gave vent to her outraged sensibilities.

"Stop it! Stop it at once!" she screamed. "I'll tell my guardian about this, and he'll have you thrown out of the house in disgrace! Put me down, you beastly man, put me down immediately!"

Lennox's lap was, like the rest of him, of generous girth and Elizabeth found it impossible to wriggle off it. Not just because his left arm was gripping her tightly round the waist but also because she was suspended in mid air, her flailing arms and legs quite unable to reach the floor below in order to gain purchase.

Amid all her other woes came the chilling realisation that she was utterly at his mercy and that the more insults and abuse she spat at him, the more thoroughly and determinedly he would spank her.

The hot stinging discomfort in her bottom grew each time his powerful hand collided noisily with it. But far worse than the mounting pain in her hot little backside was the dreadful pang of shame - to be manhandled so mortifyingly across the knee of a virtual stranger so as to be punished thus, like a naughty child.

Swallowing her ravaged pride she begged him to stop, remembering in the nick of time the correct manner to address him: "Oh stop, Sir, you are hurting me so! I cannot bear the shame of it, please stop now, Sir!"

"I shall only stop spanking you, Elizabeth, if you promise to go down on your knees and humbly apologise to me for being so defiant and insolent." Although he spoke severely and carried on spanking the girl as hard as ever, nevertheless the faint suspicion of a smile was crinkling the corners of his mouth. In spite of her incorrigible naughtiness Lennox felt himself warming to Elizabeth, for she was a pretty little thing with lots of spirit, and who possessed an exquisitely rounded bottom, as his hand had so unavoidably discovered, ideally equipped to receive any amount of physical correction. He began patting it appreciatively, which caused its owner to squirm with embarrassment.

Then, inwardly chiding himself for entertaining such thoughts, he tightened his grip around her neat little waist and once more raised his hand in the air.

But before it had time to fall, Elizabeth capitulated and exclaimed hastily, "No more! No more! If you let me go, Sir, I promise to apologise!"

He released her immediately and she slid off his lap to the floor, clutching her sore bottom. He allowed her a few moments to rub and soothe away the worst of the smarting, then commanded her to kneel and kiss the hand that had spanked her.

She did so like a lamb, without a murmur, pressing his hand to her lips almost lovingly. Then, in a quiet chastened voice, she begged his pardon for misbehaving earlier. A prodigious change had come over the girl. She was a different person to the truculent little minx who had entered the schoolroom half an hour before. Her eyes, which had previously blazed with defiance, now had a wistful, far-away look to them. She spoke and moved now with a becoming air of gentle submissiveness, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

Lennox felt both delighted and vindicated that the spanking, in addition to being well deserved, had effected such an amazing transformation in his pupil's behaviour. His previous experience in dealing with naughty girls, however, led him to suspect that the metamorphosis would be only temporary and that, once the stinging soreness in her bottom had disappeared, Elizabeth would revert to her former delinquent ways. Nevertheless, he would be able to present his employer with a most encouraging report later in the day.

The remainder of the morning was spent in quiet, peaceful study. Lennox soon discovered that Elizabeth's knowledge of history, geography and English grammar was hazy, and her grasp of mathematics practically non existent. Yet, motivated by her hot stinging bottom, she applied herself to her work with commendable zeal.

Even Mr. Harker at lunchtime noticed the improvement in Elizabeth's behaviour. She ate her meal quietly without chattering incessantly or answering him back. She obliged him instantly when he requested she pass the salt and pepper and she even enquired thoughtfully after his health.

The smarting in her bottom had by now abated although it still felt hot and tingly - a constant reminder of what had happened. Now and then Elizabeth gave a little wriggle on her chair to relieve the itching. Her guardian noticed this and was about to reprimand her for fidgeting when Lennox leaned over and murmured, out of Florence's earshot, but loud enough for Elizabeth to hear and blush helplessly:

"I'm afraid she is having a bit of trouble sitting still because I had occasion to warm her bottom this morning. However, I am glad to say it seems to have done her the world of good."

The old man chuckled with delight at the news, relishing the thought that his ward's dainty little sit-upon had at long last been thoroughly chastised. "Go to it, dear boy, go to it!" he exclaimed approvingly, raising his glass of burgundy in tribute. "It is clearly what she has been needing all these years!"

Elizabeth, deeply mortified that her spanking was being so publicly discussed at the luncheon table, opened her mouth to say something spiteful and cutting in retaliation - but instead bit her tongue and just sat there in purgatorial silence, riding out her anger. Normally she would have vented her feelings in no uncertain manner, ending up by deliberately smashing a plate or a wine glass. But that afternoon at two she had to go back to the schoolroom for another long session with her tutor - and a man who had summarily turned her over his knee and spanked her bottom so soundly was more than capable of repeating the performance at the slightest provocation. And as for that awful cane of his - she shuddered as she recalled its supple swishing menace.
That was too easy. I feel a relapse coming on for Elizabeth.
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, October 2, 2017

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for October 1

Who would be shocked by your confession of being a spanko?

Roz: I think most of my family would be the most shocked, and a couple of friends. No, I don't think the reaction would be very enjoyable.

Amy: Eric and I would never tell someone how to raise his/her children but we have a cousin who is constantly telling everyone how to live their lives. He is a big proponent of corporal punishment for children and we just see it differently. One night he went round and round with us, "There are times when a spanking is required, it's necessary, it just has to be done." We disagreed, as far as children go. Imagine our cousin's shock if we told him we totally agreed with him, as far as our relationship goes. I would enjoy that one. I'm tired of that guy telling us we "just don't understand" about a million topics he spouts on about. We are not dumb. We understand. We just don't always agree!

Jan: Hi Hermione, my very prim and miserable sister-in-law would be the most shocked! She is the one who needs a spanking though. My brother deserves so much more and he is too nice to leave her. I would hate her reaction to finding out about us, she would be nasty.

Bogey: I can not imagine trying to shock someone by telling them. I have told a few people, they accepted it.
I do wonder why we hold spanking so close while being rather open about sexual acts.

Katie: Hi Hermione,:) I can only think of one friend, who would probably think that our spanky business is fun, etc. Everyone else - it wouldn't be good. Maybe I am not giving people enough credit, but I am not about to find out any time soon... or ever. I keep my counter on my blog page, just in case someone I know does end up there. I figure that at least they would see that people actually read my blog every once in while. LOL! Creative, isn't it? HA!

Jackie: My best friend's mother, visiting her on Spring Break, her daughter and I are roommates. She is that motherly figure that I so enjoy. My friend knows of this, she reminds me a spanking from her mother is not what you want.

Wilma: We have several friends who know I am submissive to Barney. This came about through organic conversations. Two of those I am sure pretty much 'know' what goes on as one friend has seen a mystery mark on my thigh and quickly changed the conversation surrounding it with other friends - plus he has made it no secret to us that he likes to spank his wife in foreplay; the other friend is anything but vanilla so I'm sure she's figured it out too. A family member also knows as she too is submissive to her husband without the discipline part. We do have one friend who out and out knows everything - and it is nice to have a friend I can be honest with - even if he mocks me when he sees me walking stiffly. LOL.

BUT that was not your question. None of these people 'found' out, I told them. To be discovered - I wouldn't like that. My family would be fine with the submissive part as my brothers are very alpha and boss me around anyway - just not the physical. Do I think they would understand if it were merely sexual? Yes. As for our close friends? I don't think most of them would bat an eye. We are a close knit group and not very vanilla. Live and let live is their mentality. I would just be embarrassed for a minute or two. Again not the sexual aspect but the punishment part.

Ronnie: There is one friend who I would totally not wish her finding out as she is so prim and proper, never married, she would be shocked and not understand how much I tried to explain.

Hermione: I would love to be able to tell a couple of mean teachers I had in grades 5 and 6. It would really shock them and I would enjoy seeing their discomfort. I know if I had told my grandmother, she would have been upset, and I wouldn't have wanted that.

Thank you all for sharing your  thoughts on this subject.  Have a great week!
From Hermione's Heart