Wedding Bell Blues

This bride is prepared to spank her way to the ceremony.

The groom and his friends prepare for the worst.

The honeymoon will probably include this to aid in the reinforcement of their vows.

And they lived happily ever after.

From the Top Shelf - A Letter Continued

From a letter written to Kenneth Harding and published in his Spanking Encyclopedia, we resume where we left off last time:

I was included also. I will never forget the time Mrs. V called me up to my room and, after shutting the door, said, "Joe, you have been a very rude boy lately, and I have been letting you alone. Now you have been here ten days and I have not been able to correct you by reprimanding you. As I told you the rules of this house, you may expect what I intend to do."

Then she told me to remove my coat, vest and trousers, put on my robe, and come to her room. I removed my coat and vest and, leaving my trousers on, went to her room. She ordered me to take off my trousers, but I refused.

She went to the closet and took out a short leather flogger and several thick thongs.  She tied my hands to the back of a high chair and then forcibly removed my trousers, after which she fastened another thong around my knees, holding them securely to the seat of the chair.

"Now, Joe, I intend to give you the soundest flogging you will probably ever receive. Not only have you been rude and disobedient in the past ten days, but just now you disobeyed my command to remove your trousers and fought against your due punishment.

"Now you may fight against the straps which hold you all you wish; you will merely hurt yourself quite unnecessarily as you will not be able to escape your bonds, no matter how hard you struggle."

She began applying the flogger. It stung and burned with every searing cut. I was not to get off so easily as that though, for she soon discarded the light flogger for a riding crop. She commenced at my backside and every blow felt as though it should drive me right through the chair. My buttocks soon felt as though liquid fire was running across them. She moved the lashes slowly down my backside and thighs then slowly back up. By then I had given up struggling against my bonds and was begging. In all I received one hundred lashes before she stopped. My backside was a mass of welts.

When Mrs. V had released me, she made me kiss the two whips. As I could scarcely stand, she did not force me to kneel and thank her, but allowed me to beg her humble pardon. After applying salve to my rear, she went out and left me to recuperate.

You Completed the Clown Caption

Here's what you said:

Prefectdt: "This will teach you not to squirt water out of it."

Season: Before the Heimlich maneuver was invented...

Pink: Harry's demonstration that banana peels really are slippery led to George's demonstration of his own.

Ida Virgin: "This will teach you not to scare the children next time, now won't it?"

Michael: "Bongo, how many times have I told you, it's seltzer in the squirt bottle, not vodka!"

Slowsong: "Your audience was bored - so now you get the board."

KellyRed - "Well, if this doesn't work you're going to have to diet. We need to get 32 of us in the car for the record."

Ronnie - "That's it, bend just like that so I can practice my swing."

Hermione: "I'll spank you until you say the safeword. Let's see if you're really a mime."

Bonnie: "Our circus cannon is in the shop for maintenance. Let's see if we can launch you with this..."

Thanks for sharing some fun this weekend.

Complete the Clown Caption

No wonder clowns have such sad faces. I never knew they could be spanked for... what? Why is this poor clown being paddled by a companion?  Are they performing, or is it something personal? You be the judge.

Complete the caption and explain what is going on in this picture. I will publish your creative efforts tomorrow.

An Impressive Collection

In response to my Mystery Implement post last week, one of my readers suggested it might be a butter paddle, used when making butter by hand. That reader kindly sent me a picture of their collection of antique butter paddles, all currently in use as spanking implements.

Impressive, no? The one on the far left is the twin of mine. I wonder if they feel the same when applied.

Unexpected Spanking

We often listen to the Oldies radio station, and one of the artists featured regularly is Buddy Holly. I like his music, but never thought there was anything special about it. Then, because Ron remembers "the day the music died," we watched The Buddy Holly Story - a musical re-enactment of Buddy's rise to fame that includes performances of most of his songs.

The scene that caught my attention was one in which Buddy and the Crickets were about to record Everyday. Buddy turned to the drummer and told him to "do that slapping thing of yours" and Jerry, the drummer, immediately started slapping his thigh with his right hand.

Now, the song moves at a moderate speed: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. But the slapping was double that speed: 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and ... so what you hear in the background is a rapid-fire spanking that continues for the whole   two minutes. After watching that hand for a few seconds I had to look away. It was just too perfect not to belong to a spanko.

What do you think? Listen and decide for yourself.

Wednesday WIN

Any time is a good time for cake, don't you think? These cakes are in keeping with several popular themes.

The ever-popular bare bottom. The lizard is, well, an interesting touch.

No spanking in the office, please!

In honour of the recent release of the latest Harry Potter movie,  here is my namesake apparently marrying Darth Vader. Poor Ron!

This will attract the tourists

This roadside sign near our nation's capital should attract plenty of passing vacationers. The pictures indicate that there are churches, boat ramps and grocery stores in the area, and that you can eat, fill up your tank, and get spanked.
 
Spanking on Parliament Hill? Who knew?

(I think it's a picture of a spanking. It could represent something else, but I prefer to think it's intended as a spanking symbol.)

From the Top Shelf - A Letter

From Kenneth Harding's Spanking Encyclopedia, this is the introduction to the chapter containing letters supposedly written to him:

For the further enlightenment of our readers, I have included a number of letters from persons who have written to me over the years. While these letters do not necessarily express my own personal views, they do represent a cross-section of people who are aware of and interested in the subject of corporal punishment.

I hope you enjoy the letter I have chosen to share with you.

Dear Sir,

Three years ago, I went to room with a widow lady in Baltimore. I remained there for nearly two years. This lady had a younger sister who was twenty-six and very beautiful. She had one other boarder besides her sister Maude and myself. This other lady was Eileen, who was going to college, and she was nineteen.

One morning after I had been there a week, Mrs. V came to me and asked me to sit down as she wanted to tell me something. I did as she requested and then she told me that it was her rule that anyone in the house doing anything wrong or otherwise displeasing her would be taken to her room or else she went to their own room and spanked them or used the whip on them. I asked her why she did it and she smiled and told me that it was the only rule, but that it must be obeyed without question.

She then showed me a note from Eileen's teacher, telling her that Eileen had misbehaved. She said that she intended to punish Eileen and also Maude that night about bedtime.

I first saw Mrs. V in action through a transom. That night about nine-thirty we were all in the sitting room and I was talking to Maude when Mrs. V looked up at the clock and told Eileen that she wanted to see her upstairs. Eileen waited a few minutes and then she got up and went to Mrs. V's room. Mrs. V was there waiting and when Eileen entered, Mrs. V got up and closed the door.

Mrs. V showed Eileen the note from her teacher and Eileen said that she had been very pert, but that she was sorry. Mrs. V talked to her for a few minutes and then told her to remove her clothes. Eileen began to cry and beg Mrs. V not to whip her. Mrs. V told her that she was a naughty girl and deserved a good whipping.

Then Mrs. V went to the closet and got out a tawse, and then she requested Eileen to lie over the lounge, face down. Eileen did as she was bidden. Mrs. V began laying the tawse vigorously across Eileen's squirming backside to the accompaniment of her howls and pleas. Eileen wiggled and squirmed and raised herself up so Mrs. V could spank her well, at the same time crying, begging, and pleading for mercy.

Mrs. V gave her seventy good hard cuts before she stopped and left Eileen promising to be good, moaning softly on the lounge. Mrs. V then called Maude and told her to go to her own room and wait. Then, turning to the stricken Eileen, she ordered her to kiss the tawse before going to her own room to bed, which Eileen did, sobbing.

Mrs. V then went to Maude's room. After closing the door and telling her of her faults, she made Maude lie over her lap and gave her a good sound spanking with a hairbrush. Maude cried and screamed. The louder she would scream, the harder Mrs. V would spank, until Maude finally begged and pleaded for her to stop. She received a full sixty hard smacks before Mrs. V allowed her up, then after she had risen from her knee, Mrs. V made her kiss the hairbrush, then kneel and thank her for the severe chastisement she had received.

I saw many, many more whippings, for Eileen and Maude were spanked in many ways during my stay. I was included also.

Perhaps that's a good place to stop for now. I will continue the letter next time.

Great writing this isn't. I wonder if Mr. Letter Writer saw all the spankings through the transom; he must have been quite an acrobat.

Do You Need Glasses?

Look carefully at the picture below.

Did you see the bare bottom of the girl in the back?



If you did, then go have your eyes checked. It's actually the shoulder of the girl in front of her.

Guess the Implement - Not!

Today's Mystery Implement is a bit different than usual. I found it in a thrift shop, and it really looks like a handmade wooden paddle. But do you think there might have been another use for it? I can't decide. Perhaps it was intended to have a picture glued to one side of it. Or maybe some teenaged boy made it in shop class to paddle his girlfriend with.

Do you think it had a vanilla purpose? If so, what?

When I found this little gem, my first thought was how exciting it would be to show it to Ron when I got home. Then I remembered that I was with a vanilla friend. How would I explain my purchase to her if she saw me carrying it to the checkout? What would I tell her I was going to use it for? 

What do you think I should have told my shopping companion?

The Empty Office

Someone has moved into the empty office at the end of the hall on the floor above the one I am located on.

I hope I am never summoned upstairs.

Knots

We don't engage in bondage, but when I saw this interesting deck of cards I thought it might come in handy some day. Each card contains step-by-step instructions--with illustrations--for tying common (and not so common) knots.

Some of the knots have such intriguing names that, although my Girl Guide days are long gone, and I'll never be a good sailor, I am tempted to try them.

Then there are other knots obviously designed with kinky folk in mind.

(Click on the image to enlarge it.)

An Equestrian Event

Ron had a special surprise for me last week when we retired to the bedroom for some spanking fun. He had recovered one of our rarely-used implements - the dressage whip - from its hiding place in the closet. I hadn't been on the receiving end of that particular implement for some time, but the memory was still fresh. I had mixed feelings about becoming reacquainted with it.

My husband noticed my distressed expression.

"Something else too?" he queried, then walked to the bedpost where some of our leather implements hung. I held my breath as he took hold of the black leather strap, then exhaled in relief as he moved it aside and took the dogging bat in his hands.

"That's better." I had a thought. "And the riding crop. We'll have a horsey theme."

So Ron picked up the riding crop too and laid both implements on the bed beside the dressage whip. I stared at the terrible trifecta and shivered. All of a sudden I wasn't so eager to begin. Ron chose the riding crop to start with, and when I hesitated, he helped me by placing his right hand in the small of my back and guiding me into the appropriate position.

The crop bit into my bottom cheeks, and it wasn't wildly painful; it was a reasonable warm-up. All too soon it ended, and without a pause for reflection, the fiery sting of the dressage whip took my breath away. I shouted my distress, but I don't think Ron took much notice. He administered rapid-fire strokes, and although they weren't excessively hard, they sure did sting.

"Does that hurt?"  Why do men ask such silly questions?

"Ow, ow, ow, yes!"

After what seemed like an hour (but was probably closer to a minute) Ron switched to the dogging bat. Oh, good, I thought. The bat never hurts much.

How wrong I was! Either Ron was putting all his strength behind the strokes or my bum was overly sensitive after its tenderizing from the whip, but that dogging bat hurt like never before.

Then it was back to the whip, and I was cautioned to stop squirming and hold my position. I did so with difficulty.

"Say 'Uncle' when you've had enough," Ron generously offered. "Say 'Uncle Ron'." But I refused to give in first. He went through the rotation of implements several more times, and finally gave me the familiar tap on the back of my head--with the crop, I think--that signaled it was over.

I was glad our Triple Crown event was done. I felt some stinging spots on my right cheek, caused by the tip of the whip, so after giving Ron a thank you hug I hurried to the mirror to check the state of my bottom. It was bright red, but otherwise showed no damage. Ron may have noticed the disappointed look on my face, because he asked, "Do you want some more?"

"No, that's all right," I hurried to assure him.

The next day I still felt the burn, and walked a little stiffly for most of the day. But that's to be expected after any equestrian encounter, whether or not a horse is involved.

The Sands of Time

I have a dream. I have had it ever since I read about it on another blog. It may never come true, but still, I can dream.

I want a spanking that lasts for an hour.

I have a plan to achieve my goal.

A series of hourglasses, with different amounts of sand in them. Say, 5, 10, 15 and 30 minutes. We would start off by using the 5 minute timer, and stop when the sand runs out. Next, we would try the 10 minute one. If either of us can't last the full 10 minutes, we will make it our goal to try until we can. Then on to 15 and so forth.

It rather appeals to me to watch the time left decrease as my bottom's redness increases.Recidavist wrote about his set of eggtimers, and he and K have had great success with them.

I think it's a plan. I just might include one that runs for a full hour.

From the Top Shelf - Discipline

Another gem from Kenneth Harding's Encyclopedia of Spanking, published in 1969. It continues last week's theme of domestic discipline.

In Los Angeles, two weeks later, upon my return from Honolulu, I stopped off for a week to visit an old high school chum who had married and reared four charming daughters, ages eleven to twenty-two. This "rearing" had, metaphorically speaking, been abetted with ample dosages with the hand, the hairbrush and the ruler. During my stay, my friend showed me that even a married young woman of twenty-two--his oldest daughter who was visiting with her husband at their large two-storey house in Santa Monica--so long as she was under the parental roof, even though she was the bride of another man, was not immune from parental chastisement if it was in order.

More than that, her young husband, who was an attorney in a well-known firm and himself about twenty-eight, encouraged his father-in-law to inflict the spanking. His bride, whose name was Patricia, a pretty brownette of medium height with exceptionally creamy skin and a very provocatively mischievous face, had gotten involved in a discussion of city politics with her father over the dinner table, and in her exasperation over his "reactionary" attitude, had said as much in rather uncomplimentary terms.

My friend waited until coffee and dessert were over, and then when we retired to the living room, said calmly, "Patricia, go and bring me the hairbrush," and then turning to her husband said, George, whether you like it or not, Patricia has a good, sound spanking coming and I propose to give it to her." Her husband nodded: "I quite agree, Dad." Then to his astonished wife, "you will do what your father tells you, or you will get one from me too when we get home.".

Thus outvoted, poor Patricia blushingly went to her father's bedroom and returned with the old-fashioned black wooden hairbrush, a souvenir of her girlhood, no doubt. She knew exactly where it was, obviously, and when she returned it was to stand before her father, head bowed, shifting from foot to foot, her fingers nervously twisting the handle of the hairbrush to and fro. She was no longer twenty-two; she was a child again, about to be brought face to face with retribution for her misdeeds.

He asked for and received the hairbrush, then gestured with it; no words were necessary, for with a sobbing little sigh, Patricia slowly took her place over his lap and stretched out on the couch, burying her face in her hands. Her two young sisters looked on with mild amusement; probably this was an old familiar scene and my friend remarked as much, before he began the preparations for Patricia's spanking, by saying: "You know that all my girls get spanked, and all of them watch, even if just one has to get it. It keeps them on their toes, remembering their manners most of the time."

This explanation over with, he pulled up Patricia's rayon skirt and nylon petticoat, whereupon the charming brownette implored him to leave her panties on because of my presence. He told her that she had her choice: she could either leave them on and he would have George give her an equal dosage, and he would lend him the hairbrush to do it with again after they got home, or she could now receive a single spanking. Dolefully, Patricia settled for the latter, it being the lesser of two evils.

Her descended panties around her ankles, her creamy, jouncily rounded, widely spaced and beautifully dimpled buttocks appeared for parental correction. Patricia softly began to cry like a little girl even before the initial "Smack!" marred the flawless purity of her bare skin. Her father laid on forty severe, slowly spaced spanks, evenly distributed to the two huddling, weaving, lunging globes. Midway through, George walked over to hold his wife down by the shoulders, for she was beginning to kick and struggle and try to roll off her father's lap.

When the chastisement was over, she got up and put her panties back in place and sobbingly apologized for her impertinence. Her husband then excused himself to all of us, and took her straight home. I wouldn't be surprised to learn--though I haven't to this date--that he added his own private husbandly admonishment when they reached the privacy of their own connubial bower.

 

You Completed the Caption

Your captions concerning this charming photographer and her fate are so creative and intriguing. I like each and every one!


Michael: "No! You can't take my picture like this!" *stamps foot*

Hard Hand Eddy: "If I give you my cameras you will stick to your promise and let me keep my knickers on?"

Kaeleh: "Okay, where can I best hide those damn cameras? Because no cameras = no spanking photo shoot = no sore bottom... "

Underling: "Triple Exposure"

SixoftheBest: "One if by land, two if by sea, is this a flogging that these cameras will be seeing of me?"

Ronnie: "Do you think he'll take the hint and take a picture after he's spanked me?"

Prefectdt: "This is a matter of honour, gentlemen. You will take one camera each. Upon instruction, you will both walk ten paces then turn and shoot. The worst photographer bares eternal shame." (Duels are a lot less bloody now than they were a couple of centuries ago.)

Red: "Why do I always have to take the pictures? I'd rather take the spanking. After all, I always dress for the occasions."

Em: I'm *not* getting spanked this time for the camera breaking during the shoot. I brought a backup and everything.

After40Sex: "Hmmm, I don't think this is what was meant by 'take a couple pictures of my behind'."

Anonymous: "One camera focused on my left cheek and one on my right. That should make sure coverage of my spanking is ready for the 11 pm news tonight."

Hermione:  "No! You're not going to take pictures of me scraping and painting the walls."



Welcome to all the first-time participants. I'm glad you joined in! Do come back next week for something completely different.

Complete the Caption

What is this young lady doing with two cameras? Is she on her way to a spanking? If so, will it be hers? Or will she be filming the event? Where is she?

Complete the caption for this intriguing picture and leave it as a comment. I will publish your ideas tomorrow.

A Bathtub full of...

Long-time blogger Abby once wrote a hilarious post about a woman in a bathtub full of cooked pasta. It seems to be quite common to immerse oneself in a tub filled with something other than water.

Like cheesecurls

Or breakfast cereal

Or wine, if you dare. That really would get a girl spanked. What a waste!

We Will Remember Them