Looking back... and forward

Today I spent some time looking back at the New Year's Eves of the past few years, and want to share those thoughts with you.

Four years ago, we were experiencing a hiatus in our spanking activities. Little did I know that a month later, everything would change, and spanking would become a very important part of our lives. It would be at least three months before I discovered the wonderful world of spanking blogs and started to make friends in that world.

Three years ago, over dinner in our favourite restaurant, I told Ron that I wanted him to introduce some light bondage into our spanking activities.

Two years ago, over dinner in the same restaurant as the year before, I told Ron about my blog. He already knew about it, and I knew that he knew, but he didn't know that I knew that he knew. Got that?

 One year ago, at the same restaurant once more, there were no surprises - although I suspect Ron was waiting for one - just happy togetherness.

This year, we are skipping the restaurant and will be enjoying each other's company over a nice home-cooked meal with wine, candles and music. Time marches on and there have been changes, some definitely for the better. We have grown closer and love each other more than ever, and we look forward to spending more time together in the coming year.

I hope the new year brings you love, joy, happiness, and plenty of fireworks of the right kind, in the right place. Thank you all for your friendship, support and participation over the past twelve months. The upcoming year here will be full of blogging fun, stories and adventures, just for you.

Cyberhugs to all from Hermione and Ron

Masochism is...

I read some interesting graffiti on the wall of a bus shelter the other day:

Apathy is Masochism

Really? Why? I don't get it.

I tried reversing the phrase:

Masochists are Apathetic

I would have thought that masochists were anything but!

Then what about sadists? Would empathy be sadism? Are sadists empathic? Sympathetic?

My head hurts!

More coffee, anyone?

Some time ago I posted some delightful pictures of bare-bottomed individuals by Australian artist Sue Janson.

I was lucky enough to find a few more for your viewing pleasure.

I saw the mug pictured above in a local store a few weeks ago, but didn't buy it, because Ron said we have enough mugs that we can't use when company comes!

A Bottom Song

CBC radio never ceases to amaze me with their eclectic music selections; my daily commute is always an adventure. Recently, Radio 1 played a portion of a song by the now-defunct Anglo-Irish experimental band, Stump.

Why the song is called Buffalo, I can't imagine. A more appropriate title would be Ode to Big Bottoms. Maybe after listening to it, you can suggest a better name for the song.

From the Top Shelf - The Tutor, Take Three

Once again our fledgling tutor is having difficulty with the pupil he is preparing for college entrance exams. His latest disciplinary session had a positive effect, but it was only temporary.

The little minx waited about a week before she again tried her little ruse. She quite deceived me, for her conduct during the next several days at our lessons was exemplary. She seemed to flush whenever our eyes met, and her voice was soft and meek, even when she was explaining or reciting the lesson, which she usually did prior to that with a cool confidence.

About a week after I had introduced Miss Eileen's spacious pink and white bottom to the sole, I announced a written test which would cover all the ground we had covered since our first lesson together. She had had two days' warning, and had assured me just the day before, when I asked her, that she was quite ready.

You can guess what happened. Not only did the young woman fail the test miserably; she was caught drawing caricatures of her tutor on the back of the exam paper. Mr. W was understandably cross.

"I'm sure you know that you have failed this examination, Eileen. I ask myself why, with your good scholarship, you find it necessary to go out of your way to irritate me. Or perhaps you think that having once punished you rather seriously, I am not capable of doing so again. Is that it?"

She rolled her eyes and didn't speak, but once again I saw that giveaway twitching of her lips which meant that she was trying to hide a smile. That was just too much. Abruptly I got up, went to the door and locked it. The leather sole was still in the drawer of my desk, and I meant to use it this time till she really cried for mercy. However, this time I intended to impose upon her a posture less embarrassing to both of us.

"I take your silence as an answer in the affirmative," I told her. "You will go over to that chesterfield, kneel on it facing the back, lift your skirt and slip well above your waist, and let down your panties. When you are ready, I will attend to you."

She drew a deep breath and rose, without a word, and walked over to the chesterfield. She quickly lifted her outer garments, hurriedly lowered her panties to just above her knees, and knelt down as I had bidden, bowing her head and shoulders over the back. I took out the leather sole, walked over to her, and maneuvered her wrists together then clamped my hand firmly over them.

I applied a stinging crack of the leather sole over the plump summit of her right buttock, and then almost instantaneously, one on the other globe. She caught her breath, wriggled a little, glancing back at me with widened eyes, but otherwise made no sound. This obstinacy galled me.

I laid on the sole rather smartly, using the method of first the one cheek and then the other till I had reached the base of her now slightly squirming and reddened behind. She raised her head several times, but did not turn her face to me after the first two spanks. Her breathing was quickened and audible.

I paused a moment to readjust my grip on the sole, and then I began to apply the spanks in a vertical manner, again alternating on her fleshy buttocks. This almost at once had some more satisfactory effect, because now she began to gasp and to call out with little tremulous cries, "Ouch, oh!" And "Ooooh, dear!" while her hips lunged and jerked, drawing away from the chastising weapon only to proffer themselves again at the very next instant.

I did not pause until I had given her about thirty spanks. I waited then, watching her twist and squirm her fiery  hips about, and saw how uncomfortably she was shifting her knees back and forth to find a more secure position on the chesterfield. I said, "I haven't finished with you yet, my girl," and then I applied two or three good solid horizontally applied smacks with the sole over the lower part of her bottom. She at once burst into tears, and I felt her wrists jerk against my grip, but I settled myself and gave her three or four more in the same place. Then she broke down and sobbed, "Aaaahh, oh, lord, oh, it does hurt so! I'm so sorry, I really mean it this time, please not to hard any more, Mr. W!"

"I wonder if these are crocodile tears yet, Eileen," I commented drily as I tapped the sole lightly over one of her flaming buttocks. Then she looked back at me, tears running down her face, and she stammered, "Oh, sir, if you are going to go on and smack me, won't you please let me go over your lap? I'm afraid I shall be a big baby, because it's awfully uncomfortable kneeling like this. My legs are getting awfully weak, please, sir."

Come back next week for the startling conclusion to both Eileen's spanking and the tutor's first job.
 

Rub this on your butt

For that special Boxing Day meal, why not give your roast a rub with Paula Deen's Butt Massage. it comes in sets of two - one for each cheek, presumably - and is available here.


The product description is temptingly kinky: "Y'all, rub this wonderful blend of spices on any butt (even beef brisket) and watch everyone's eyes roll back in their heads over the flavor!"

Have a good time rubbing it in, y'all!

Season's Greetings from the Great White North

Ron and I want to wish all our dear friends in the blogosphere a very happy holiday. I hope you are enjoying the day and celebrating it in whatever fashion you choose.

And if that celebration includes a bit of spanking, then so much the better.

Merry chris'moose to all!

Sorry, Crookshanks. Just one more picture then I'll take the antlers off. Then we're going to test the new cooking implements that Santa left. But not in the kitchen.

Twas the night before...

In the interests of being politically correct I won't complete the title, but you get the idea.

Try to finish that last minute shopping before dark.

I hope that tomorrow morning all you naughty folks find switches, canes, paddles and tawses in your stockings, and try them out right away.

Have a safe and happy day before the big day. 

Last Minute Shopping

Ron is always on the lookout for pictures I can use on this blog. He reads the newspapers before I do, and when he saw these decidedly kinky pictures in the colour sales flyer of a major Canadian department store, he put the flyer on top of the pile of papers so I would be sure to see them.

This picture was on the front page of the sales flyer from The Bay.

And this one was inside. I hope this means Ron is going to give me a Christmas paddle!

Several years ago, a popular advertising slogan for this store was "It's hard not to think of The Bay." Why does that come to mind now? Somehow it seems so appropriate.

My good friend Red beat me to it with these pictures (no pun intended) but Ron would have been disappointed if I hadn't posted them here. So if you saw them there, well, here they are again!

Wednesday WIN

For some last minute holiday spanko shopping, these bags will help you carry home your purchases and let the world know that you're kinky.

Photos are from Bored Panda.

A Little Winter Fun

Each year, Scotsman.com runs a contest called the Haggis Hunt. The idea is simple. Go to the haggishunt website and watch the ten webcams. Most  of them are located in various parts of Scotland, but there's one in Times Square in New York. When you spot a haggis - either a golden haggis like the one pictured above, or a plain brown one - click on the "I saw a haggis" button and send your sighting to the Chief Ghillie, Farquhar Farquharson.

What can you win? A stay in a luxury hotel, a spa treatment, a round of golf (all in Scotland), a Harris tweed jacket, boxes of crisps, Scotsman calendars, and much more.

While you're waiting to see a haggis, be sure to check out the Haggisclopedia of interesting facts about hagii. Nothing kinky, just silly.

The contest ends on Burns' night, so have fun while you can.

From the Top Shelf - The Tutor Again

We continue the disciplinary session that began last week.

At this last stroke which had bitten home against the base of her left buttock, I kept the sole resting on her twitching skin and paused. Then I asked her calmly, "Are you beginning to feel sorry for your cheekiness, Eileen?" This time she didn't look up, but in a voice that was quivering and somewhat higher in pitch than her usual tone, answered, "Ah-oh, why-yes, Mr. W. I am sorry for what I've done, really!"

I was quite inexperienced when it came to chastisement, but still I told myself that if only fourteen spanks had so improved Eileen's disposition to be meek and deferential, a few more might not go amiss. So, after another moment or two, I took firmer hold of the taped heel of my spanking aid and lifted it up. Eileen recognized this as a signal that I was going to resume, and I heard her give a little sigh of "Oh my!" while at the same time she pushed herself a little closer to me, tightening all her muscles in readiness.

I hesitated a moment, then applied the resuming strokes across both of her bottomcheeks at the very base. I have since found that this is one of the most sensitive of all areas of the female posterior in spanking, and Eileen's reaction demonstrated the general rule: her hips seemed to wrench from side to side, then to arch up spectacularly, and for the first time she turned back her face to me to emit a shrill little "Ooch, oh, I did feel that one, sir!"

"I am relieved to hear you say that, Eileen. I had thought that perhaps you were such a grown up young lady that a childish bottomsmacking like this made no impression on you whatsoever. Now if you are ready again, I shall continue with the rest of your correction."

She uttered a long, tremulous sigh, and turned her face back and bowed her head again, stiffening her entire body once more.

I then began to smack her upturned seat with slightly quicker spanks of the leather sole, but this time I saw to it that each stroke attacked both cheeks of her behind rather than a single one as had been done during the first portion of her allotment. It took me seven or eight more spanks to reach the tops of her ample hips, and each of these crisply-intoned applications of the leather drew little squeaks from her, and an occasional convulsive tip-back of one foot or the other, and a continuous restless kind of squirming over my lap.

I perceived that the colour I had so liberally bestowed over those satiny hemispheres was now a furious bright red, so I considered that she had had a sufficient penalty this time. Lifting up the sole again, I asked, "If I let you go back to your place, Eileen, do you think you can spend the rest of the afternoon in concentrated study without any more of your impertinence?" And before she could answer, I delivered the final spank, straight across both globes at their ripest curve.

Her bottom jerked to the left, then to the right, then arched up, then flattened itself, as with a sobbing "Oh, ouch, ouch, oh yes, Mr. W, I'm sure I can, oh please!"

I don't know what possessed me at that moment, but seeing that her panties had, during the frequent twistings of her legs and kicking of her feet, become tangled about her ankles. I leaned down and drew them off and placed them on the edge of my desk, saying, "Very well, then, Eileen, you may go back to your seat. But just to make sure that you don't forget this smacking for the rest of the afternoon, you will leave off your panties. Now you may get up."

With this, as she slowly tried to raise herself from over my lap, I hastily pulled down her skirt and slip, took hold of her elbows and stood her on her feet. Her face was quite flushed, and her eyes were red, filled with tears. Her lips were trembling, and she was breathing rather quickly. Nonetheless, when she finally looked at me, the ghost of a smile made itself manifest on her full, soft mouth as she whispered, "I did deserve that, I know. And I'll try to do better, truly I will."

For the rest of the study period she was as meek and quiet as an angel. I then assigned her another composition, and made no further mention of the smacking. I walked away from the desk and saw, out of the corner of my eye, that she very swiftly and stealthily retrieved her panties and hid them between her books as she left the room.

But this was not to be the final chastisement she was to receive from me.

Yes, there's more to come.

You Cleverly Completed the Caption

 

My readers have come up with some great ideas for what this young lady has on her mind:

---

Bacall: "You think it's easy to read with the book behind me?"

Bogey: "You think it's going to spank itself?"

---

Recidavist: "Wee, the book says that you have to tell me in a very stern voice that I've been naughty and that I have to pull my pants down and bend over your knee; then it says that you should keep spanking me until I'm contrite....Darling what does contrite mean?"

---

Michael: Hypnosis Don'ts:

"Stare at the vertical lines. You are getting sleepy, sleeeepy. Wait, no! You are not supposed to be getting excited, Mr Chross. What are you doing with that hairbrush? Get away from me. EEEP!!!"

---

Bonnie: "Smart girls like spankings too."

Randy: "So what'll it be, head or tail?"

---

Ronnie: "I've been lying here for the last hour while you take pictures. When are you going to spank me like you promised?"

---

SixoftheBest:  She says. "I've always liked being a blonde on top, and my bare bottom's red" with a naughty wink at me.

---

KellyRed: "Well, I'm finally done with my dissertation. Let's blow off some steam. I'll be Barbie, and you be Ken. You can bend me at the waist and spank me with that plastic hair brush."

---

Bobbie Jo: "Hello, darling! It's about time. I have been waiting for you to warm me up!"

---

Dave Wolfe: "Oh, hi! I just fell out of that picture; is this Narnia?"

OR

"Nope, this entire couch is taken... whaddaya gonna DO about it?"

OR

Fellas make passes at lasses with glasses and cute asses.

---

Jay Walker: "Do these shorts make my bum look big?"

---

Red: "I bet your cane cannot make even stripes on my bottom like these pants do!"

---

Hermione: "What are you waiting for? Men like to spank asses of girls who wear glasses."
 

Complete the Caption

What's the story behind this photo? The young lady is obviously saying something, and she looks startled. Or is she annoyed because she was interrupted?

You decide. Complete the caption and I will post them all tomorrow.

Nice outfit.

Music of the Spheres

It was my turn to choose the implements, so I brought out the belt, a white plastic spatula, and the new brown wooden paddle. Ron hadn't seen the paddle before, but he admired it and tested it against his palm as I explained the story behind it.

"So what do you think it is?" I asked.

"It's a paddle."

"Yes, but do you think someone made it for spanking? What was it for?" I persisted.

" It must be a ping pong paddle."

"A homemade ping pong paddle? But there was only one. I don't think so."

The first swats made me realize I had made a very unwise purchase, and that it was even more unwise (unwiser?) to argue. The homemade paddle set my bottom on fire immediately, and I had to beg Ron to slow down. He did, but didn't lessen the force of the impact.


"I'm taking that thing back to the store on Monday," I complained. Ron chuckled and ignored my outburst.

Finally he stopped and changed implements. The smack and thud of the leather belt was a welcome relief. I see far too little of it, so when I do it's always a treat.

Soon he switched to the slim white spatula and administered some rapid-fire staccato swats. I thought of the "Rapid-Fire Challenge" on Top Chef. I was undergoing my own challenge, and it wasn't in the kitchen. But it wasn't so bad now that my bottom was well warmed up.

All too soon, Ron went back to the wooden paddle. "I like this," he said. "It has a nice ring to it." He played a merry one-note tune on my reddened globes. I don't know exactly what it was but it clearly ended with "Shave and a haircut, two bits."

"I suppose if you had a collection of different sizes you could play a real tune," I observed.

No reply, except an energetic application of the paddle. The belt was ignored from then on. Ron alternated between the two stingy implements: the high-pitched white whacker and the deeper-voiced paddle.

"Yes, I really like this ping pong paddle. How much was it?"

"A dollar ninety-nine. Are we done here?"

"That was a real bargain. Okay, you're done. You're glowing in the dark."

Ron has a new favourite implement. Oh, goody.

Disciplinary Kitteh

Has anyone ever said this to you?

Wednesday WIN

Our blogging friend Ms. Betty shared some great holiday gift ideas with me. They're all from Lehman's, an American store that focuses on high quality merchandise.

We are all familiar with backscratchers as spanking implements, but they are usually made of flimsy, breakable bamboo. Not so with this one. It's made of sturdy poplar wood and able to withstand high impacts.

A leather flyswatter would be the perfect gift for that special person who is looking for a little more spice in their spankings. Ms. Betty assures me these are very effective, and she ought to know!

This is called a "cast implement seat". It's a repurposed tractor seat, and looks very uncomfortable to me. It would be just the thing to use as a "naughty seat" to sit in while waiting for that spanking. Sitting in it after one would be very uncomfortable.

Happy shopping!

An oldie but a goodie

I know we've seen this one around the blogosphere before, but I just had to use it again so I could show you how my bottom smiles after it's been well spanked.

From the Top Shelf - The Tutor, Part Deux

Today we continue with a tutor's personal recollection of a particularly difficult private student, and how he dealt with her attitude. If you haven't read the first installment, from Spanking Encyclopedia by Kenneth Harding, it's here.

In spite of my being a mature male, I was still quite naïve about the behaviour of the opposite sex. But I was to discover my error and also learn something about Eileen exactly two days after that punitive session.

Once again, Mr. W's eighteen-year-old pupil has turned in a badly-done assignment, and he decides to deal with her in a stronger manner this time. After spending some time thinking about the possibilities:

At last I thought of a suitable correctional aid, and went up to my room. I had an old pair of bedroom slippers with leather soles which I had brought along when I moved my belongings to my new situation, and I thought that there I might find an ideal instrument. It was certain to smack noisily, and the humiliation of that sound would be a chastening element in the proposed rehabilitation of my young friend. It was also certain to sting very nicely, and I did not think that she would be quite so impervious as she had been on the other occasion lying across my lap while I stung my hand on her ample, resilient buttocks.

After examining the slippers, I selected one of them and took my penknife and cut away the leather sole itself. To make a kind of solid grip, I next put adhesive tape around the end of the heel. When I had finished, I brandished it in the air a few times experimentally, and the balance felt quite satisfactory.

Mr. W returned to the schoolroom and left the sole on his desk, where Eileen was sure to see it when she entered. She did.

"I guess I'm due for it again, aren't I? I know I've been asking for a walloping."

"Yes, you certainly have, Eileen, and this time I shall do my best to see that you get it, and a proper one."

Once again I pushed back my chair from the desk and I sternly ordered, "Now then, Eileen, you have earned yourself a bare-bottom smacking. Take down your panties, lift your skirt and slip over your waist and place yourself across my lap." She promptly rose from her chair, but a slow blush began to spread over her cheeks. Ah, I thought to myself, 'that won't be the only place where she blushes!

She half turned away from me, tucked up her skirt and petticoat, tucked them under her arms, then hastily grasped the waistband of her pink silk panties and lowered them to her lower thighs. She went across my lap very quickly as if to say she was in a hurry to get it over with.

She was wearing a garter belt which held up brown silk stockings, and now I had occasion to observe what fair soft skin she had, and also what an ample area for chastisement. As she lay docilely across my lap, head down and once again her palms positioning herself, I put my left palm on her rolled-up skirt and slip, then reached for the leather sole, laid it across her pink and white buttocks and remarked, "I am going to smack your impertinent bottom till I think you are sufficiently punished. Are you ready?"

She answered in a low, quiet voice, "Yes sir, I am. I know I shouldn't have tried your patience so. I'm sorry, sir." Well, this engaging and voluntary remark just when she was ready to receive her first bare bottom smacking somewhat took me aback. I felt that I ought to modify my planned sentence, which was to smack that plump backside of hers until she was really in tears and distress. But if I let her off too easily, she might consider me soft-hearted, and once again ply her little pranks.

I laid the leather sole directly over the plumpest part of both buttocks, and was rewarded by Eileen's stifled little "Ohhh!" and a tightening of all her muscles. Keeping my left palm pressed firmly on her upper back, I lifted the sole and brought it down sharply over the outer edge of the top of her right buttock. I must say that both of us were startled by the loud explosive noise. Eileen turned her face back and up to regard me with a grudgingly respectful glance, and at the same time her body jerked convulsively over my lap, one pretty foot involuntarily lifting from the floor, then resuming its place. The mark the sole had left on her finely grained carnation skin was quite bright, and registered faithfully the outline of the entire sole

I waited a few seconds, then dealt her an equally loud smack over the corresponding area of the other bottomcheek. Once again she let out a startled "Ohh!" and this time she crossed both ankles, bearing down for support with the toe of just one shoe. As the sole met bare skin, there was a corresponding spasmodic flexion of the muscles of her bottom and upper thighs. This time the mark was slightly brighter than its twin.

I proceeded to apply the sole with methodical regularity on first one buttock and then the other, traveling downwards from the two top marks towards the base of her amply rounded bottomcheeks, and allowing a sufficient pause between spanks so that the stinging could permeate not only the flesh but her highly-spirited mind to let her observe that I would no longer be fair play to her little tricks.

It took about fourteen spanks to reach the lower portion of her fleshy but very firm and satiny behind. After the first few tiny gasps of surprised annoyance to find how loud and smarting the strokes of a leather sole were as against the feel of my palm that other time, Eileen managed to take this first portion of her dosage without an outcry.

Will our valiant tutor stop with a gentle warning, or will that naughty bottom feel the full force of his wrath?

To be continued...

You Guessed the Implement

And it wasn't hard. I should have photoshopped the name out. Doh!

Here's what it looks like in use.

My grandmother always hung her laundry on the clothesline outside, even in winter. When she brought in the clothes, they were often frozen stiff, so she hung them on a dryer, much like this one, that was attached to the wall near the wood stove in the kitchen. Then she put newspapers underneath to catch the drips as the laundry thawed. I can still recall the the smell of fresh, clean laundry that filled the warm room.