What Have I done?

Recently our friend Ami posed a series of interesting questions. Have I or haven't I? Scroll down to find out!

Have you ever:

1  Stood on top of a very high mountain or cliff, looking down at countryside, or out to sea? 
Yes, every autumn we travel to a local conservation area, climb the hill, and look out over the valley brightly decorated in fall colours.

2  Lain on your back on a hot summer's night, listening to the crickets chirping, and watching the satellites as they chase each other across the heavens?
Once upon a time I did this, but satellites hadn't been invented yet so I had to settle for falling stars.

3  Skinny-dipped at midnight? 
No chance. That's way past my bedtime.

4  Intentionally or inadvertently swum with sharks?
Not that I know of.

5  Broken a bone in your body?
The little toe on one foot, more than once.

6  Driven a car at speeds in excess of 120 mph?
Never! 80 kph sets my heart racing.

7  Played "Pooh Sticks"?
No, but I've seen it done on television. I must find some sticks and a bridge so I can try it.

8  Run in a "Pancake" race?
Pancakes are such slow runners, I wouldn't want to humiliate them by racing against them.

9  Had your eyelashes dyed?
Only with waterproof mascara that wouldn't come off.

10  Ridden a horse naked?
Where there are horses, there are horse flies, deer flies, and all manner of biting insects. I always stay fully dressed when I am around my equine friends.

11  Punted down the River Cam? (or any other river)
Punting is against the law in Canada, but I have paddled a canoe on a few lakes.

12  Played tennis in a short white tennis skirt whilst wearing minimal knickers?
My lessons didn't progress far enough to require an official skirt.

13  Helped an inebriated husband up the stairs at 2 in the morning?
No, he'd be in bed by then.

14  Been too scared to get out of a swimming pool whilst on holiday, due to a very large Doberman sitting on the edge watching you?
I love dogs, so I would probably have invited him to join me in the pool.

15  Sat in a deckchair snoozing happily whilst the sound of leather on willow echoes distantly in your ears?
Leather on willow? Is that some sort of kinky reference? I've heard wind in the willows, but never leather.

16  Taken a ride on the Maid of the Mist under the Niagara Falls?
I've been to Niagrara Falls, but I stayed on dry land.

17  Climbed up something - rock face, climbing wall, rope in a sports hall, long ladder, tree - and been too scared witless to climb back down?
I have always been to scared to even think of climbing up.

18  Been too liberal with the "Eau de Cologne" which then ran down where it shouldn't, which in turn caused you to hop madly around and rip your knickers off and throw them as far from you as you could?
I've had it run down "there" but just gritted my teeth and enjoyed the sensation, because I'm a masochist.

19  Made snow angels?
Every winter as a child.

20  Lost a shoe in a ploughed field on a moonlight walk home after a party?
No. The ploughed fields around here are fenced and tresspassers are not welcome.

21  Shrieked loudly, due to being spanked hard, and frightened away a visitor/s who turned and ran back down your drive - and now you never will know who was about to knock on your door.
And you are desperately hoping they will never ask... 
Possibly, but I'll never know for sure. No one could hear a knock on the door over my shrieks.

From the Top Shelf - Unfair

Here is another of those delightful stories by GeorgieC. I've published some of his stories, and decided it was high time for another one.

"It's not fair, Sir. Why can't we get it like the boys?" She lifted her skirt up, and bent over the chair. The boys in the class jostled for a better view of her white pants.

Mr Davies approached, slipper in hand. Whack! "Because, Sandra, it is easier for a girl to raise her skirt..." Whack! "…than it is for a boy to take his trousers down" Whack! Whack! "Right, get back to your place".

The girl stood up, and eased her skirt back down behind her, and trudged miserably back to her place. The boys tittered, and Mark Roberts whispered "I saw your little white knickers again". Mr Davies heard him. "OK, Roberts, out here and bend over the chair".

To Sandra's utter disgust the slug Roberts strode to the front of the class with a smirk, and bent over the chair, his broad backside well covered with his grey trousers as the slipper landed four times. He strode back to his place, and whispered, a little quieter this time "I saw your knickers…and a fair bit of your bum....but you ain't seen my underpants."

Sandra raised the matter at the School Council, and all the girls agreed. Each one had tales of being bent over, over desks, over chairs, over stools, hands on knees, gripping ankles or just touching toes, with their skirts right up displaying to all their underwear as slipper, cane, ruler whacked down. Some even recounted how some of the teachers, Mr Collins in particular, actually pulled the leg of their knickers up a bit so that bum cheeks stuck out for his particular favourite instrument, the strap. All of this in front of the boys, who always got whacked over their school trousers.

The easiest solution, the girls all agreed, was to press that in the interests of equality, girls should be allowed to wear trousers too. To go on about how they got punished was, well, a bit embarrassing, but by presenting a case that they should be allowed to dress similarly to the boys may actually be a winnable argument.

The wheels of decision making grind ever slowly, and it was many months before the matter was considered in full by the Staff-Student Forum, to be passed to the Senior Management Team, who then passed the matter onto the Governors. Months in which Sandra made regular appearances over the chair at the front of her class, always to be greeted as she returned to her seat by Mark Roberts saying something like "Lilac ones today, a very nice caning, thank you" or "You should have worn bigger ones today - your bum isn't half red now after the strap". Sometimes Sandra wondered if she should actually bother wearing a skirt at all, she had to lift it up so often.

Finally however all the girls received a letter. The School regulations had been altered and from the beginning of the next term girls would be allowed to wear dark trousers to school. On the last day of term Sandra even allowed herself a slight smile as she once again lifted her skirt and bent over to touch her toes for six of Mr Wilson's cane. Even as the cane swished down painfully, she thought how disappointed the Slug was going to be next term. She'd actually even, in a display of bravado despite knowing what was guaranteed during the day as she hadn't done Wilson's homework, put really brief knickers on today just to get the Slug going. He was in for a surprise. She even smiled as she got back to her desk and he whispered "Wow! Brilliant! How about wearing a thong next term?" Maybe. Maybe.

The girls all arrived together into the classroom on the first day of the new term, and the boys faces were a picture. "What…What…What the…?" spluttered Mark Roberts as he surveyed the girls, all wearing the now regulation dark trousers.

"Hard luck, perv" Sandra was enjoying this. "You've had your last dick-twitcher, you greaseball. You ain't seeing my panties again, buster"

He wasn't going to let this carry on. "Bitch! You ugly cow…", but he could get no more words out as she slapped his face. Within seconds he had grabbed her hair, and they were pulling and tugging at each other.

"What is going on here? The rest of you sit down immediately. You two, up to the front of the class".

Mr Collins stood menacingly. "I will not tolerate this behaviour. The Headmaster has expressed his concern about falling standards of discipline in the school. He has authorised a much harsher line to be taken". He placed his briefcase on the desk, opened it, and took out his famed, and feared, strap.

Inwardly, Sandra breathed a sigh of relief that at last she was going to be punished on an equal footing with the Slug.

"Right, both of you, over here next to each other, and take your trousers down".

Sandra couldn't believe what she was hearing. This can't be right. She was about to make some protest, when Collins brought his strap down heavily on the desk. "Get a move on!"

She saw from the corner of her eye Mark unfastening his trousers and started to do the same herself. Oh no! She remembered that she'd actually put a white thong on that morning. Mark's trousers dropped to his knees, and Sandra knew that she had to do the same. She fiddled at the fastening and tugged her trousers down to her knees.

Collins spoke again. "Right, not exactly suitable underwear for school, madam, but it is of little matter. Roberts, take your underpants down, and you girl, get that piece of dental floss right down below your knees. The Headmaster has insisted that we now increase the level of discipline, while ensuring equality. I am now authorised to belt you across your bare backsides."

In an almost choreographed move, both lowered their respective undergarments to their knees, knees that were visibly shaking. Sandra started to sob.

"Bend over both of you and touch your toes! And lift your shirts out of the way!"

As they did so, the boys in the class strained for a better view. Every boy in the class was delighted with this turn in events. All bar one of course. As the strap landed for the first of his six he was well aware that the girl next to him was providing a show to his mates that he could only have dreamt about. And he was missing it. All he could do was listen to the strap landing for the first time on her bare buttocks, and listen to the cry that she made as the fiery tingle spread. All over the bare bottom that all the lads were all looking at. He waited for the second stroke to land on his bare behind, conscious that all of the girls were looking at him as he used to look at them. Nemesis.

That certainly seemed fair to me!

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for Sept 27

This week we revealed our favourite rooms for spanking.

abby: Master and I are have the advantage of an empty house...so any room is a good room..Most often the bedroom or the den.....and as I think about it, we have spanked in every room, except for the glassed in porch.

Six of the best: I usually apply my 'six of the best with my cane to a naughty lady' knickers down bare bottom, in our bedroom. Although I have given such canings on occasions in the living room.

Jan: Hi Hermione, swats happen anywhere we happen to be!! Spankings though are always in our bedroom, handy for his weapons!!

Baxter: We have a lower back bedroom that is not used as a bedroom. It part workshop for my wife and her fiber activities relating to weaving looms, spinning wheels and sheep fleece. We moved the futon in there and that is where we have spankings and sex, since those two activities go so well together. All of the spanking implements are either on the stand or on the floor.

Nina: Hi Hermione, most of the time hubby did spankings in the bedroom, but we have been almost everywhere in the house. Some places are simply more likely because there are implements, like wooden spoons in the kitchen, or canes and paddles in the bedroom.

Downunder Don: Swats can happen anywhere but spankings are always in the bedroom...just so much more comfortable.

Sir Wendel: A chair in the center of the kitchen is my favorite spot but any room will do in a pinch.

Arched one: Most of my spankings are given in the bedroom she finds good positions to spank in, like bent over the end of the bed or on the bed with a pillow under my hips on or my hands and knees but does spank in the family room where I get OTk and over the sofa arm rest and at times set up the spanking bench for longer I'm going to take my time spanking you.

sub hub: My favorite room for spankings is our bedroom because in it is the chair that Mistress uses for all things comfort and relaxation. I called it her Queen's chair. Also, it is where our significantly large closet is which has a long island table in the middle. Mistress has discovered that having me lay flat on the hard (sometimes cold) surface to accept my spankings is ideal. It's roughly waist high and provides her with the most comfort when administering the spanking, especially if it is the kind that requires she exert more physical exertion than normal.

Although we have used it once or twice in the past, the room I want to try is the kitchen - specifically the kitchen table. I have demonstrated to Mistress how the kitchen table is the perfect height and length to have her husband naked and bound to it for spankings. Someday I'm sure but for now...too many kids around! *smile

Ronnie: Swats anywhere and anytime. Spankings happen mainly in our spare bedroom come office and our bedroom (P keeps implements in both) and P has been known to spank/cane me in our works office.

Hobbes: In the woodshed out back of the house or in the bedroom. The latter is far better for any post spanking activities . . .. But the woodshed does have an aura about it; it is too cold out there Thanksgiving through April to use it though.

Hermione: Most of our spankings take place in the bedroom. I'm happy with just about any room, but I really wouldn't want to be spanked in the crawl space. No room to stand up, and too much stuff stored there to allow for a suitable space for spanking.

Thank you all for revealing your favourite rooms. Have a great week!

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #92

Hello everyone, and welcome back for another spanko brunch, when we get together to discuss one aspect of our favourite aerobic exercise. We're probably all familiar with the real estate slogan that it's all about location, location, location. Is that true for you too?

Do you have a favorite room in your home where spankings most often happen? Does the location ever depend upon the purpose of the spanking? Is there a room you haven't tried, or wouldn't want to use for spanking?


Leave your response as a comment, and once everyone has spoken I will publish a summary of our discussion.

Friday FUN

Earlier this week I received an invitation to have lunch with some colleagues at the company where I used to work. It brought back memories - some pleasant, some not.

My job was often boring, punctuated with short periods of frantic activity.

Some people's hygiene habits left a lot to be desired. (See the next photo for an explanation.)

This could have been my "Carl's" desk (see above). I kid you not! Long ago, in the days when smoking was allowed in the office, I had a workmate whose keyboard was actually worse than this one. You could not see the letters on the keys, and his fingers were always black.

Some people had superior attitudes. I steered clear of them.

I have to admit, though, that I had a lot of free time and privacy to do my own thing and get paid for it.


To do your own thing, scroll down or click on the link to Complete the Caption.

Complete the Caption

Bicycling is a healthy and environmentally-conscious way to commute, but this rider seems to have forgotten something. Do you think she was in a hurry to get on the road? Or did something distract her?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your itineraries in an upcoming post.

From the Top Shelf - An Introduction to the Birch

I enjoyed reading A Degree of Discipline, and I hope you did too, but I must admit I was disappointed that we did not see the birching bench put to its intended use. I intend to remedy the situation with today's story. There's no birching bench in it, but a very thorough birching makes up for the omission.

This extract is from Miriam by Patrick Henden, published by Blue Moon Books, and the writing style is reminiscent of earlier anonymous authors of Victorian flagellation novels.  Miriam, a new student at Grangemoor boarding school, is summoned to the Principal's study, unaware at this time, innocent and naive as she is, that the good lady is an 'addict of the rod'.

"You are to see Miss Collett in her study at five, Miriam."

These fateful words being uttered to me were to change my entire life, though then I knew it not. I was then approaching my seventeenth birthday - a boarding school "Miss" who often yearned for the greater comfort of home than Grangemoor afforded. I was a quiet girl and not given to mischief. The reasons for my having to see the Principal were therefore rather mysterious to me. I could only, however, accept, with a demure nod, the dictate of my French Mistress, Mademoiselle Aline d' Arville.

The glances that were cast upon me by the other girls around me in the classroom filled me with apprehension. One was rarely, if ever, sent to Miss Collett to be praised. Perhaps she had news of home to give me? Such thoughts increased my perturbation. Seeing this from the expression on my face, Mademoiselle D'Arville leaned over me and whispered,"You have done nothing wrong. You are simply to receive a lesson."

My astonishment at this was great, for the Principal never descended to teaching herself, except very occasionally to condescend to a group of the most senior girls. I felt flattered yet I remained uneasy, with good reason as shall be seen.

Long did the two hours drag until the hour approached for me to present myself. Having knocked upon the door of Miss Collett's study, I was held in waiting for several moments before it was opened by Cynthia Martin, the head girl. She was devilishly attractive, though putting on many airs and being whispered to be a distinct favourite of several of the younger teachers. She appeared slightly flushed of face and her hair was awry, though at the time I put this down to my imagination.

I could not help but take note, however, that two of the buttons of her dress were undone close to her bosom, and such untidyness struck me as exceedingly odd.

"You may enter. The Principal is ready to see you," she said. Catching my possibly over-obvious glance, she fiddled with the loose buttons and went out hurriedly. I made my entrance very nervously and with uncertain steps, being told by Miss Collett - who was seated at her desk - to enter sharply and to close the door. Upon doing so and approaching her, I noticed with surprise that a small birch lay upon the polished surface of her small writing desk, which stood to one side of the main one.

I was then put to questions about the progress of my education during the past six months of my tenure, which I thought I had answered well enough. All the time, however, I had a strange feeling that Miss Collett was regarding me with a faint mixture of amusement and sadness, which quite put me out for I lost track of what I was saying.

"You seem to have made reasonable progress, Miriam, in English literature, in geography and history. Your knowledge of French, however is sadly lacking," Miss Collett opined, to my bemusement, for I thought I had got on reasonably well with all the horrid verbs and strange words.

"Oh but I have tried," I stammered.

"Not enough, I fear, Miriam. I mean to give you a little lesson in applying yourself. Go to the couch there, raise your skirt to your hips and kneel upon the cushions."

Her words struck me like a thunderclap. I had never been so much as spanked until that moment and could not believe what I was hearing. My expression made this evident, as did the stumbling but incomprehensible words that tumbled from my lips. I believe indeed that I moved a step back towards the door. At this her eyes narrowed and she rose.

"Are you disobeying me, Miriam?"

"Oh no, Madam, no, but..."

"There are no 'buts' when I attend to a young girl's bottom," was the response, at which she came round her desk and took my elbow. Being thus guided to the couch, I all but fell upon it which caused her to complain loudly.

"Position yourself properly! Right up on hands and knees with your hips and posterior raised. My, what pretty drawers you are wearing! They may remain on for this occasion, though I vow this will be the first and last birching you will receive without your bottom fully bared."

I misunderstood her words, taking it to mean that I was to receive only this one admonition for sins and omissions that I felt sure I had not committed. Shamefully raising my dress as she had bid me to, I waited with dried lips while Miss Collett walked back to the escritoire and picked up the birch. Approaching me again from the rear, she then twitched it across the backs of my thighs, which made me jerk and utter a small cry, though the twigs were softened.

"There are two lessons I have to teach you, Miriam. The first is that French verbs will be learned in all their conjugations. The second is that a well-brought-up young lady makes the least noise under the birch. It disconcerts others and merely leads to further application of the twigs. Do you understand?"

"Y...y...yes, Madam."

"Your posture, Miriam, is appalling. You dismay me. Dip your back, girl, and make your bottom more prominent. Good heavens, has your papa never spanked or birched you?"

"Oh no, Madam!" I gasped while uneasily endeavouring to obey her wishes. My body being young and supple I was able to globe my bottom up to her while yet praying that she would accord me only the lightest strokes.

Such wishful thinking was soon to be dispersed. A swishing sound, caused by the twigs passing rapidly through the air, came to my ears and then almost simultaneously I felt their burning sweep across my half moons. So burning, indeed, was it that a racking cry of alarm broke from me, which I instantly attempted to muffle. My hips twitched and my bottom cheeks squeezed beneath the stretched white cotton of my drawers.

"This, then, my dear, is the christening of your bottom," said Miss Collett with what sounded like a trickle of laughter in her voice, though this too I put down to my imagination. Humped over as I was, I could see naught but the inky blackness of the velvet under my eyes. It was warm to the touch and I realised with astonishment that Cynthia must also have knelt upon it. Her face had not appeared distraught, however, as did mine at the second impact of the twigs, which again caught me full across the bulge and caused me to swallow down a cry as best I could.

"AAAAAAAHH!" The cry burst from me unwittingly, for there was no pause between the second and the third, which, if anything, basted my poor nether cheeks more fiercely and caused my hips to squirm with yet more animation. Already I felt that my poor bottom was on fire.

"You must try to be quiet, Miriam! This is only the beginning of your lesson," Miss Collett admonished me and thus made me very uneasy with regard to her comments about 'first and last time'. Naive as I was, I did not appreciate at that moment that on all future occasions my bottom would be bared for the birch. It truly was my only experience of a birching where my drawers were left on. Of such knowledge, I was, at that time, oblivious. I heard the outpourings of my own breath, which came in would-be muffled gasps and cries as the birch assailed my left cheek, then my right until I was wriggling around violently.

Miss Collett did not seem to be put out by this and, by devious movements of her arm and wrist was able to follow my contortions so that at no time did my bottom escape the twigs but rather suffered all the more.

I sobbed, I covered my eyes, I strove to contain the surging heat and the stinging, yet I felt I could not. So insistently did the birch assail me that I thought it would never end. Only afterwards did I learn with great astonishment that I had received but a round dozen. It had seemed like hundreds. Every inch of my globe sparkled with fire, while my cheeks were soaking wet with my tears.

"Up with you now, girl, and stand!" I heard all of a sudden and even though I was so in pain I felt I couldn't move, I was minded at least to escape that awful swishing and so somehow scrambled to my feet with my skirt all awry around my waist. I made indeed to tug it down, but a sharp sally of the birch across my right wrist made me cry out and desist.

"When you are told to stand, you STAND...and do nothing more!" Miss Collett admonished me. I could hardly see her through my film of tears. My hips wriggled for I could not help myself. Miss Collett, far from complaining, appeared to drink in all that she saw, from the tips of my boots to my white stocking tops and the lightly swelling columns of flesh that rose up from them.

"You will continue to stand posed exactly thus for a few minutes while I attend to some papers," I was told. I found it difficult to do so. Above all I wanted to clutch at my hot bottom and squeeze the cheeks gently to try and rid them of the awful burning pain. Afraid that I might get another swishing, however, I stood as still as I could, being very conscious of my skirt around my waist and my legs and drawers showing.

For long, long minutes I was ignored while the Principal, seated again at her desk, perused I know not what accounts or reports, though she appeared to do so with eagle eye, her pen now and again twitching across a sheet of paper.

After a seeming eternity, she raised her eyes to me again. My tears had dried. A warm glow was slowly announcing itself in my bottom cheeks as the stinging sensation receded. Again she appeared to weigh me up. Then, appearing satisfied, she nodded.

"Restore yourself neatly, Miriam, and report back to your French class." she said.

That was quite a birching! Now then, on with conjugation.

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for September 20

Our discussion was on what the spanker says, and you were very eloquent on that subject:

Nina: Hi Hermione, here it depends on what the spanking is about. For punishment there wouldn't be jokes, but lecture and talk for sure, counting too, if I feel able to. For good girl spankings we have often had some sort of fun and jokes, too. I can't for that to start again next year. Wishing you a great weekend.

Baxter: Not really conversation, but when I am spanking my wife, she will say 'lower or harder or that's enough'. when she is spanking me, I will say 'too high, holy shit, ow, lower, a little harder, that's enough'. short two or three word phrases.

abby: A lecture only for punishment. We are both talkers, so there is constant banter. Usually laughter thrown in also. If there is counting, He will tell me and the proper way is...1 Sir, thank you. Rarely do i have to ask for another...

Tim: I give a lecture when I am spanking my wife, and I also ask her a few simple questions to answer about her offense and her future behavior. She gives brief answers addressing me as "sir."

Roz: Most spanking is for fun nowdays so there is banter between us and usually some laughing. I have never had to count, even during discipline spankings.

Lindy: Our spankings are usually for fun, so plenty of laughter. If I say ouch that's too hard, Bear says I'm taking the fun out of it. We just have our usual banter though, no lectures.

Welcome, Lindy!

Simon: Usually during my punishment the only sound is the swish and thwack of the implement, me counting and the occasional groan. Sometimes if I groan too loudly or squirm she might say something along the lines of "come on now only 10 to go" or " you're doing well, don't spoil it". Afterwards she may rub my bottom and say things like "well done, all over now".

arched one: Good question. For discipline prior to spanking I'm told what I did wrong then during the spanking some scolding about how she would not be spanking me if I had done what I was suppose to do. I'm pretty quiet except for the ouches and I'm sorry. Maintenance - nNot much talking prior but during lots of talking about who is in charge who sets the rules with me answering between the ouches. Just because spanking (fun spanking) - she's telling me how much she loves seeing my bottom bouncing and how much fun it is to spank me. I'm commenting on how much I love her to spank me and enjoy just because spanking.

S: D only gives orders, like Bend Tighter, Spread your legs, the dreaded Fetch the Cane, and the welcome, You Can Rub Now.
For me, it's the usual Ow, Ouch, and Ooh as the whacks land; sometimes I say That's Too Hard, which usually means that I get it harder still, and sometimes Spank Me Harder, which has the same effect ! Ooh that's Enough, the reply is We've Hardly Started, and I like to give D advice like Other Cheek Now, or Down on my Crease until I get to the peak of excitement, when it's Faster, Harder, Don't Stop, and I am just longing for him to change my spanking into happy sex.

Six of the best: When I am acting out a spanking scene, with my 'spankee' partner. I usually tell her that "I am going to take her knickers down, and spank her bare bottom blushing rouge, because she has been very naughty indeed, and deserves to be given 'six of the best' on her voluptuous naked rear end. The 'spanking scene', can last 5 to 10 minutes long. I also stand her in the corner, to display humiliatingly her naked rear end for all to see. Putting the CANE next to her, as well.

KB: There's Quips, jokes, talking about life, song singing - you name it!! Lots of laughter.

Welcome, KB!

Dr. Ken: I think a lot depends on the lady I'm spanking. Some there's a bit of a lecture and scolding. Others get jokes and laughter. Some get a mixture of everything, although counting doesn't really happen all that often. And there are times when I simply let my palm do all the talking.

Ronnie: Depends on the type of spanking. Lectures and scolding or P may ask me questions like telling him why I'm getting spanked. Fun spankings, laughter and cheeky banter on my part.

Hermione: Ron sometimes makes jokes, when the mood strikes him. He never lectures because our spankings are not for punishment. Sometimes he will tell me to adjust my position or stop making so much noise. Often, though, he remains silent.

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #91

Greetings from all of us to all of you. Let's get started on a topic that I hop you will find entertaining. In a past brunch we discussed the spankee's verbal output during a spanking. Today let's focus on what the person on the other end of the paddle has to say.

During your spanking activities, is the spanker talkative? Is there a lecture? Quips or jokes? Counting? Or is there just an eerie silence?

Leave your reply as a comment, and once everyone has contributed I will publish a summary of our discussion.

You Completed the Caption

What topic are these two discussing? Read on and find out.


Arched one: Yes dear she is pretty but when we get home a spanking will be in order for you staring at her so get a good look and think about it when I'm spanking you.

Simon: "Henry, if you say so much for global warming once more I'll warm you up when we get home."

Baxter: Don't look away from me when I am speaking to you. You did not put your coat over that puddle and now my shoes and stockings are wet. And guess what, when we get home, you are going to be paddled for that, you hear me?

Ronnie: To himself - So that's that new club for Gentlemen Harold was telling me about. Any requests met. I wonder if I can sneak a visit next week when Emma's visiting her mother.

To herself - If John thinks he will be joining Harold at that club when I'm at mothers he better think again and a trip over my knee will make sure he doesn't.

Six of the best: "I heard a maid at the Palace whisper that Prince Albert took down Queen Victoria's bloomers, and spanked her royal ass with a cane," said the lady. To which the gentleman replied. "I hope he gave her 'six of the best', the very best."

Anon: And where do you plan to be looking while I'm thrashing your snow white ass?

js666: Disgraceful how that young woman is throwing herself at that gentleman. The very idea. Why, if any daughter of mine were so forward, I should take her across my knee and thrash her bum soundly.

Now you were saying something about a house party at the Randywood estate? I suppose it would be acceptable if it were properly chaperoned. Her great-grandmother, you say?

Sir Wendel: I’m going to spank the Dickens out of you the moment we arrive home.

Hermione: See, all the other men are wearing cravats. Did you put on that bow tie just to embarrass me? You, sir, are in big trouble.

Friday FAIL

Poor Crookshanks still hasn't recovered from our latest outing to Walmart. Scroll down and you'll see what I mean.

 This happy shopper had also had enough.

 Who could pass up an offer like this?

 Not a pleasant sight!

Tan lines are fading fast now that fall is here.

For fun that never fades, try our Complete the Caption challenge.

Complete the Caption

It's a rainy day in the neighbourhood, but this couple doesn't let it dampen their spirits. What are they discussing so intently? Does he look distracted to you? She might have something to say about that.

Complete the caption by leaving a comment, and we will see what's in store for these folks in an upcoming post.

From the Top Shelf - Sebastian's Verdict

We have now come to the final chapter of A Degree of Discipline, and are about to find out whether all of Lucy's painful research paid off. The long-anticipated birching bench finally makes an appearance, but I won't spoil the ending for you by saying any more.

Lucy eased her position in the seat for the third or fourth time in as many minutes and tried to make herself comfortable. As the train slowly built up speed she sighed and tried to take stock of herself. Her final few days at Carstairs had passed with incredible swiftness and the strangest chapter in her life had ended when she waved goodbye to Juliette.

Her last sight of the girl with whom she had shared so much was of Juliette walking stiffly through the barrier to where Wendy Williams was waiting to take her back to Carstairs in the establishment's mini-bus. Lucy understood the reason for Juliette's stiffness all too well. Even though the carriage she was in was reasonably new and well-upholstered, the tramlines across her bottom could still be individually felt, as could various other aches. However, as she wryly admitted to herself, even aches could be pleasurable. She wondered if Juliette felt the same way.

She knew, because Juliette had told her the following morning, that Juliette's demerit points had earned her a public birching. The two girls had ruefully compared notes; Lucy had conceded that although her own bottom bore a fearsome row of weals, now turning blue as the bruises came out, Juliette's raw cheeks, angry pink with flecks of red from her spine almost down to her knees, were more impressive.

Sebastian had maintained his facade of uncaring heartlessness right to the end. He had come to her room in the early evening, straight from the assembly hall. Meekly, she had presented him with her thesis and remained quiet while he had read it. When he put the papers down, she had desperately looked for some sign of approval, but none was forthcoming. Instead, he had taken her by the hand to lead her to the now deserted assembly hall.

Lucy's heart was in her boots. She was ready to break down and cry. After a month at Carstairs, enduring the most bizarre situation of her life and ending in the most painful caning imaginable, she had failed. It was all for nothing. She had done her best, but all she could look forward to was more punishment and she knew that, without Sebastian's approval, she would not gain her degree either.

In utter despair, she did not resist as he ushered her up onto the stage and obediently pulled her dress over her head when he brusquely ordered her to strip. She was not wearing her panties anyway, because the chafing after her caning was too painful, so she was virtually naked before him. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to face the bench and unhooked her bra before ordering her to 'assume the position'. Although she had never seen the birching bench in use, Lucy had no problem in guessing what 'the position' was and knelt on the shelf, bending over the padded centre rail.

Sebastian silently fastened her wrists to the frame, buckling the leather straps tight. Already, Lucy was finding it almost impossible to move because her arms were splayed out at full stretch and she could only look at the floor or crane her neck uncomfortably to try to see behind her. The last thing in her sight before Sebastian pulled a black silk blindfold from his pocket and bound it over her eyes, was a bucket of freshly prepared birch twigs, placed conveniently alongside the frame.

She was so utterly dejected at the thought of her failure that even when her legs were pulled firmly apart, and her ankles strapped tightly to the frame, she did not react. The blindfold served to make her more conscious of her other senses and she guessed that the rustling she could hear was Sebastian preparing the bundle of birch twigs. She wondered how many strokes he would give her. She steeled herself for the agony which must come. Her poor bruised bottom was thrust out and totally vulnerable. With her legs forced wide apart like this, Sebastian must have a clear view of her most private parts. She shivered in anticipation of those dreadful sharp twiglets lashing into her.

What was he waiting for? She answered her own question; he was just prolonging the agony. The bastard! She hated him, yet she could no more resist him than fly to the moon.

The warm hand which suddenly cupped her right breast made her start with surprise and she jerked painfully against her restraints. His other hand softly caressed her bottom, increasing the warmth she already felt there, and she sensed her nipple harden as he gently teased it between thumb and finger.

"You write like an angel." The words took a moment to sink into her confused brain. "So it's time for your prize."

He was behind her now, cupping her breasts in both hands. She could feel his warm body covering hers and she realised he was also naked.

"Face down, I think you said?" he murmured, as she felt his cock probing her rapidly moistening entrance.

The woodwork of the frame creaked beneath them, the sounds blending with her cries and the imperceptible hum of the video camera.

* * *

As the train rumbled on, Lucy pulled out her briefcase from under the seat. She opened it and took out the photos which Sebastian had taken at the police station, together with some stills from the video tape. He had given them to her as a memento, so he said, of a truly memorable day. She smiled to herself. She would have to be very careful which family photo album she included these snaps in!

Lucy should be proud of her accomplishment, and I wonder what the future holds in store for her. What do you think?

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for September 13

Do you have any acquaintances who might be spankos? Here's what you said:

Leigh: Two people - both relatives and no I would never bring up the subject.

Anon 1: One rather distant relative, close in age to me, who I suspected and who confirmed she was a spanko for a long period of time. Not by directly asking so much, as by connecting her leading playful comments to what she wanted. Of course, she ended up otk several times. Both of us enjoyed it!

Simon: Whilst I don't wander round with a placard saying I love spanking I don't go out of my way to hide it either. Many of my friends and co-workers are aware that I have an interest in giving and receiving spankings but only once has it led anywhere. A lady I worked with did once ask me to spank her and I of course obliged. It wasn't a very satisfactory experience, she was very nervous and I was unsure of how to proceed. She ended up over my knee with her skirt up and I gave her a few slaps but it was clear that she didn't want to go any further so I stopped. She never mentioned it again but we did remain friends and continued to work together quite happily.

Roz: There are a couple of work colleagues who I wonder about, and the topic has been raised in jest. I wouldn't bring the subject up.

Ronnie: I did wonder about one work colleague (left now) but didn't bring the subject up.

Anon 2: I used to have a friend at work, Jane, a curvy blonde; she usually wore tight skirts, except on Monday mornings. when she wore a full skirt and seemed to sit down rather gingerly. Once she sat, and then jumped up again. I asked her if she had a sitting problem. She blushed red, 'If you were married to Bill, you would too'. We went to the Ladies, where she upped her skirt to show her plump bottom adorned with red stripes on the lower part on which she sat. I laughed, and showed her mine, tomato red from my last night's paddling. From then on we usually had a Monday morning comparison, but it never went further than that.

Baxter: A couple of instances in which the conversation suggested it. One was with a couple we had over for dinner and the guy did something, his wife looked at him and he said 'oh will I be disciplined later'? Another instance with our next door neighbors talking over the fence and the guy said something and his wife said 'wait till later when we talk about that' and he said, 'oh great'. Another instance I was talking to a couple of co-workers and they were talking about kinks, and the woman said to the other guy 'are you into spanking' and the guy said no,but he pointed to me and said I might be. That definitely went nowhere and I did not say a thing. Yeah, I think more people than you would imagine are in to it.

Nina: Hi Hermione, there might be a few, but I'd never ever bring the topic up. I am pretty sure my grandparents were into spanking, but it took me almost twenty years to understand that from a few items that I had seen in their wardrobe.

Dan: Over a post-work happy hour, several of us got to talking about Fifty Shades of Grey and whether any of us had seen the movie yet. One of the women said she had not seen it, had read the book, but in that genre much preferred Anne Rice's "Beauty" series. You have to have a fairly hardcore interest in spanking and BDSM to put those books at the top of your reading list. But, from the blank expressions from others at the table, I may have been the only one who really understood the reference.

Anon 3: One friend confided that another acquaintance and her boyfriend were "into that spanky stuff". My friend indicated that she would never let any man spank her. I did not react much, just saying, "Hmm..." Later, I realized that I just about gave myself away by NOT being shocked!

I've had my suspicions about coworkers, but never asked anyone or said anything.

Hermione: At meetings in the office where I used to work, the men often made jokes about bondage and spanking. It was all light-hearted, so I never knew whether they spoke from experience or not. There was also one woman who managed to find a way to get the word "spank" into every conversation. I had my suspicions about her. I also have a close family member who I strongly suspect, and who probably has some idea about me, but I would never bring up the subject.

Thank you all for participating this weekend, especially our new anonymous visitors!

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #90

Welcome back, everyone, to our weekly spanko brunch. We self-proclaimed spankos are only a small portion of a much larger set of the population interested in spanking.  A recent study found that a significant number of both men and women fantasize about spanking or being spanked. But not everyone is comfortable about sharing that fantasy with others. People all around us could be spankos, and if we look closely at them we might discover a kindred spirit.

Do you have a friend, co-worker or relative whom you suspect is a spanko? What makes you think that this is true? Would you ever pursue the topic in order to find out if your suspicions are correct?

Leave your reply as a comment and I will publish a summary of our discussion once everyone has had a chance to speak.

You Completed the Caption

This image of a frolic in the snow brought out the creativity in my readers:

Baxter: Hey girl, I am starting to think this idea of leaving the orgy early and hitchhiking home wasn't quite the best idea as I am getting cold, but oh are my nipples hard. What does that mean? A ride is coming soon?
Hey yourself, take your bikini top off and lets get the first car that passes.

Katie: "Those spankings hurt, and I was seeing stars!!! I'm glad that we came outside to cool off. Perhaps (pointing to a bright star above) there is a place where only good girl spankings exist. Let's brush up on our astronomy!"

Simon: Having gone through the wardrobe to Narnia, Lucy and Susan decided to go back for some warmer clothes before exploring further.

Liza: Laura and Sandy are not convinced that global warming exists.

Mitch: Samantha, it's July, we're in the Southern Hemisphere, how can it be so cold down here? I've had it with you and your low budget vacations.

Sir Wendel: A spanking will warm the body - er – um - well at least the booty.

Ronnie: You sit down first and tell me if it does ease the sting.

Kingspan: A good time was had by all. Still, Fairbanks never really caught on as a spring break destination.

Anon: Girl on the left: So what do we do now? We came out here dressed like this because you said it was the best way to get our boyfriends to pay some attention to us instead of those damned football games. Well, it looks like they noticed because now they’re standing in the doorway staring at our barely covered bottoms ... and they’re holding hairbrushes in their hands … and I’m getting really, really cold.

Girl on the right: Look at it this way. We’re certainly going to have their undivided attention while we’re over their knees and they’re applying those hairbrushes to our bottoms. And all the wiggling and squirming we’ll be doing should certainly put them in the mood for even more attention afterward. Besides, I’m so cold now that I’m kind of looking forward to the warmth a good spanking will provide.

Six of the best: The two naughty ladies were singing, "Oh baby it's cold outside". But their boyfriends were thinking and singing, "But it will be hot hot hot inside, when you both will be spanked forthright".

Hermione: They never told us Canada would be so cold. Let's find someone to warm our bottoms.

Stay tuned for our weekly spanko brunch, coming up next.

Friday FAIL

It's time for another grammar lesson, but first, a little something to help you as you write those blog posts.

 For the grammatically challenged, these sturdy mugs provide a handy reference to some common written stumbling blocks. Available here.

Gotcha!

So very true

So much for the inspiration to hit the gym

For more literary fun, you're all invited to leave your caption on this week's Complete the Caption.

Complete the Caption

We are having exceptionally hot weather for September, but I am thankful for it when I think of the snow that's just around the corner. These two women are enjoying a snowfall, but why are they dressed for the beach?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your conjectures in a future post.
 

From the Top Shelf - Six More for Lucy

Lucy has had six strokes of the cane for being inebriated in public, and has been allowed a brief break to compose herself. She still has six more to endure for knocking down a police officer. How will she take them? Will Sebastian enjoy watching her punishment?

Lucy emerged from the Ladies to be met by the waiting WPC Sims. The brief interlude and application of the cold sponge had certainly taken away the fierce initial stinging, but when she had gingerly eased her panties back on, the touch of the thin material had been enough to bring a prickle of tears back to her eyes. Stiffly, Lucy fell into step with her escort as they marched back towards the punishment chamber.

"I had a quick word with the sergeant while you were in the toilet," Constable Sims smiled sympathetically, trying to make Lucy feel more at ease. "One of your governors from Carstairs has arrived and will be ready to take you back when this is over. I expect they'll be able to look after you and make you more comfortable, won't they?"

Lucy was not sure that being 'looked after' at Carstairs was at all likely to make her feel more comfortable, but she kept silent and just nodded glumly.

"The other thing is that the procedure is going to change a little bit this time. " She looked at Lucy apologetically. "George Biggs has asked the sergeant if he can take the cane to you this time, and the sergeant has agreed. I'm afraid you rather bruised George when you knocked him over with your bike, and he fully intends to return the compliment."

Lucy began to protest. "That's not fair, it was an accident."

Constable Sims cut her short. "It's no use making a fuss now. You'll just have to face the music. Remember what I said; keep your legs together and relax." She opened the door and gently propelled Lucy back into the punishment room.

It came as no surprise to Lucy to find that Sebastian was in conversation with the sergeant. She had immediately guessed that it would be him when WPC Sims made reference to 'one of the Carstairs governors'.

Smiling, he turned towards her. "You really have got yourself into hot water this time, Lucy."

Before she could answer the sergeant interjected. "I'm sorry, sir, no talking to the prisoner allowed for the moment. If you would just stand over there, sir, we have our duty to do. I'm sure the police benevolent fund will be very grateful for your generous contribution, sir, thank you, and, " he winked at Sebastian, "I'm sure none of us noticed that you brought a camera in with you, did we now?" This was addressed to the two constables who grinned and shook their heads vigorously.

Lucy saw that Sebastian was carrying a small camera. His intention was obvious and the knowledge that her discomfiture was going to be recorded on film somehow made it all the more dreadful. Damn him - damn Sebastian to hell! He always seemed to know how to take maximum advantage of her.

"Now then, young lady, you know the procedure by now and we want to get this over nice and quickly, don't we? No fuss. So step up onto the stool, if you will."

Reluctantly, trying hard not to let her legs shake, Lucy did as she was told. Constable Sims held both her hands as the sergeant applied a new piece of tape to the centre of Lucy's back, lifting her skirt right up to shoulder level before securing it. Lucy heard a click and looked over her shoulder to see Sebastian just lowering the camera. She blushed hotly at the thought of what he might photograph next.

"If you're a good girl, we'll dispense with the cuffs this time." The sergeant was in front of her now, taking her hands from WPC Sims. His grip was firm and Lucy had already noted how strong his hands were.

"Oh, please," she pleaded meekly.

The sergeant turned, twisting his grip and twirling her arms over his shoulders as he did so. "Right then, miss, you have six more to come, as per the lawful sentence of the magistrate, so just lean on me and we'll get it over with."

Lucy did not resist as he pulled her forward on to his broad back, but lowered her head to rest on his shoulder as if to draw some comfort from the personal contact. She flinched, her face burning, as for the second time that day, a policeman lowered her panties in preparation for the administration of a legally authorised caning.

George Biggs was none too gentle and her bottom already felt radiantly warm as the scanty slip of cotton was drawn across the ridges left by the sergeant's beating, and down her thighs to her knees. Behind her, Sebastian's camera clicked twice.

George Biggs took a cane from the rack. "Right you are, Sarge. Up she goes."

The sergeant leaned forward and Lucy felt her feet leave the stool. Remembering what the WPC had said, and also indignantly aware that the camera was clicking busily away, she tried to relax and keep her legs together.

"Right then, young miss, this is what you get for knocking over a police officer." The speed with which PC Biggs applied the first stroke took Lucy completely by surprise. "And this is what you get for covering me in booze and spoiling my uniform."

Looking through the viewfinder of his camera, Sebastian could see that Lucy had received six hard strokes from the sergeant. The red stripes, already blueing slightly, ran in exactly parallel lines, starting just above the centre of Lucy's gorgeous bottom-cheeks and progressing downwards; closely spaced red stripes, covering exactly the area she would normally sit on, but leaving a white and unmarked area perhaps two inches wide at the under curve of her bottom. He had no sooner recorded this fact on film and noted how Lucy was allowing herself to hang limply from the burly sergeant's back when the first of PC Biggs's vicious cuts landed across Lucy's thighs, fully four inches below the last welt from her first session.

Sebastian almost spoiled his photograph by flinching in sympathy as Lucy reacted. Her body stiffened and both legs bent at the knee, kicking upwards in a frantic reflex. The second cut followed the first so rapidly that he missed it landing, but took a shot just as the cane withdrew, leaving to show the two red lines across Lucy's thighs, one above the other, an inch or so apart.

Lucy howled, wriggling pitifully, but was still firmly held by the sergeant. Her initial intentions of keeping calm and keeping her legs together in some attempt at dignity were driven out of her mind. George Biggs did not have the strength of arm allied to the scientific precision of his sergeant, but he was quite strong enough to make Lucy feel as if she had been stung by a thousand wasps, all attacking her rear simultaneously.

"This will stop you sitting comfortably for a week." George Biggs was enjoying seeing those delightfully plump female curves shudder under his cane strokes and intended to make the most of it. He planted two in quick succession, right on the crease line where Lucy's bottom met her thighs, so close together that only a single stripe showed in Sebastian's viewfinder. Lucy's legs were flailing wildly now and Sebastian's lens caught a tantalising flash of dark curls in the cleft of her thighs. The last red weal came very close to that super-sensitive area.

"I'm sorry!" Lucy twisted and looked over her shoulder at her tormentor. "Please, I'm sorry! No more, please, no more!"

"Steady on, girl, only two more. Steady down now." The sergeant's voice didn't register with Lucy at all.

"Sorry, is it? This is what sorry does."

The crack! made Sebastian wince as the cane left a diagonal stripe from Lucy's upper left buttock to the lower right, crossing most of her earlier stripes, the end of the cane leaving a darker mark where it dug deeply into the flesh at the side of her cheek.

"Now you're sorry!"

Sebastian took one final photo, timing the moment precisely as the cane curved on impact, wrapping itself around Lucy's plump and tender cheeks on the opposite diagonal from its predecessor.


* * *


Half an hour later, the still sniffling but slightly more composed Lucy knelt on the back seat of the Carstairs mini-bus as Sebastian drove slowly back through the village. Her bottom was throbbing in a way that she could never have imagined, and her throat was hoarse from shouting. She gripped the seat back firmly, ignoring the rules about wearing a seat belt, because nothing, absolutely nothing on earth, would have persuaded her to sit down on the lumpy upholstery.

"What I don't understand," Sebastian was saying, "is why? Why on earth did you do it?"

"I did it for you." Lucy sniffed again.

"For me? How? Why?"

"I read my thesis through again last night and I knew it wasn't quite good enough. I knew you wouldn't approve of it as it was; there was something missing. I thought I knew what it was, so I tried to put it right. I knew I needed to put in that extra spark; I needed to experience for myself something that I couldn't get from interviews or observation. I know I've had my bottom smacked a couple of times here at Carstairs but that wasn't the same. I needed the whole judicial ritual from which I couldn't walk away."

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. "Well you certainly achieved that! Was it worth it?" He deliberately injected a note of scorn in his voice.

"Sebastian, how can you be so cruel? I did it for you. Don't you understand? I wanted to please you! I need you. Please, please say you understand." Lucy looked over her shoulder at him, near to tears.

Keeping up the pretence, Sebastian frowned. "I know one thing; you have really spoiled the plans I had made for you this afternoon. I was going to make you and Juliette the joint centres of attraction and account for your demerit points in front of everyone. Now I don't know what to do with you. I can't parade you on the platform with your arse already striped like a five-barred gate. What would be the point?"

"I'm sorry I've spoiled your fun," Lucy said bitterly, "I suppose you'll have to take a rain check on that then, won't you." She sniffed, then rallied her spirits for one last riposte. "Unless you want a private viewing?"

Sebastian kept silent for a moment, then allowed her one small concession. " I'll make a bargain with you. When I have finished with other matters this afternoon - " he paused to allow the dark significance of this to sink in "- I'll come and read your thesis. If I don't like what I read, then, I promise you, how your bottom feels now will be just a gentle warm-up for what I have in mind for it."

"What if you like my work? What will you do with me then?"

The mini-bus turned into the front drive of Carstairs and his reply was lost to her in the scrunching of gravel under the wheels. The vehicle drew to a halt, as Sebastian held the door open for Lucy to alight rather gingerly from the back seat. She smiled at him, wistfully. "I suppose you wouldn't grant me one little favour?"

"Which is?"

"Whatever you decide to do to me, could it be face down? I don't think I shall be able to sit or lie on my bottom ever again!"

I think Sebastian enjoyed that very much, don't you? What does he have in store for Lucy next?

To re-read the entire story, go to this post - From the Top Shelf - scroll down to A Degree of Discipline, and you will see all the posts for the story.