Monday, June 17, 2019

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for June 16

Have you had a spanking that made you laugh?

sam & Peg: When we were visiting her mother & dad, we thought both of them had gone to church. Taking an opportunity to spank me, my wife gave me a good hard spanking with a paddle. After we came downstairs later to see her dad reading the paper we freaked. Her dad didn't look up but merely said, "Sounds like your mom has taught you well." He smiled and all three of us began laughing

Wendel Jones: There have been a few times when I lost my hold on the Misses while spanking her and she fell off my lap. The Misses would laugh until she realized that she would go back over so I could finish the spanking.

Roz: We have had a number of both fun and funny spankings over the years. From memory I think the funny spankings were mostly with implements breaking. On one occasion Rick was using the cane and giving a stern lecture etc and it broke. We both ended up laughing but it didn't stay funny for long for me as he decided it was still safe to use.

Rosco: We don’t take spanking too seriously but we do try to get into the role play so we don’t laugh much. But we’re not afraid to.

Irene has been spanking me for almost 40 years now and is quite proficient. She’s only taken to tying me down over the last 10 years or so, and she’s sometimes pretty incompetent at doing that. I laugh when she struggles and she spanks me harder and longer, so everyone wins.

Bonnie: We often laugh during spankings, and during sex too, because life is funny. When Randy the stern disciplinarian says something preposterously pompous in that deep commanding voice, sometimes it just strikes me as goofy. I can't help but giggle, even when I know my bottom will pay the price. Before long, he's usually laughing too.

I agree with Roz that broken spanking implements are hilarious. Years ago, when we relied mostly upon pervertables, this happened more often. Once he bought a light wooden paddle with a cute saying from a roadside junk shop. It snapped on the first firm swat. The saying was "Attitude Adjuster." It worked I guess, just not in the intended manner. Today, Randy makes sure to spank me with implements that are harder than my bottom.

Jack: The only time I remember laughing being a part of spanking was when my mother-in-law saw me facing the wall for the first time, She could not help herself, an adult with a very red bottom. My wife told her mother he was laughing at first.

Amy: Thankfully, Eric and I both laugh at ourselves and our dynamic at times. I once confided in him this whole fantasy about being taken in hand in the woods. We went for a hike and he did his best to make that scenario come true but who knew how uncomfortable being naked, up against a tree, when it's chilly, and your husband is trying to spank you. I kept bouncing around. Oh. Ouch. No. Not here. That's not comfortable. Try this. Uh, I'm too cold. How about in the sun? By the time he got a swat or two in, we were just laughing at the whole thing.

Hermione: Ron often makes jokes while he spanks me. One of his current favourites comes out while he wields the leather flyswatter decorated with metal studs. "It's riveting!" he declares.

Having an implement break is always cause for laughter too. We have broken a few wooden spoons, but there are always more available.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, June 16, 2019

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #283

It's a beautiful day in the neighbourhood, and I feel great! Let's keep this happy mood going by thinking about funny spanking experiences.

Have you ever had a spanking that made you laugh, or that seemed funny at the time or later? Please tell us all about it.

Leave your response as a comment. After everyone has had a chance to speak, I will publish an edited summary of our conversation.

From Hermione's Heart

Friday, June 14, 2019

Friday FAIL

I always check the fabric care label before washing a new item of clothing, don't you?

Naw, me neither! But the people who made these labels are hoping that you will read them at least once.

Have a safe, sane and consensual weekend!
From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

From the Top Shelf - The Wrestling Ladies, part 1

Today's story is a little out of the ordinary, but once again Rollin Hand shows his expert ability at writing erotica. A guys' night out takes an unexpected turn. How? Read on and find out!

The Wrestling Ladies - Part 1

When Bruce was invited out by the guys in the shop he was elated. Finally, they had decided to include him in their group. He knew he was not regarded as a cool guy, but he wanted to be accepted as one of the gang. They were a cool bunch of guys from work--Brad, Jim, Harry and Nick, and now he got to join them.

"We know this really outrageous place, you'll love it," Jim told him. "It's like, a wrestling joint, you know, with chicks in bikinis wrestling each other. It is hot. You won't frickin' believe it."

That sounded good to Bruce. He could see himself laughing and carrying on with the rest of the guys as they howled at the wrestling chicks. Because that’s all he really wanted – to be one the guys.

They picked him up in Jim's car and the five of them drove to this club. It was garishly lit on the outside. Lots of neon, signs that said "Girls!" and "Nude" flashed at him as they drove up. Inside were tables set on levels and arranged around a stage, amphitheater-style. The stage had ropes like a boxing ring. The guys ordered drinks and settled in for night of fun.

Bruce felt like he'd finally arrived. This was great--whooping it up with his new buddies. He probably had a few drinks too many, though, but was having such a good time that it just felt euphoric. The lights dimmed and an announcer came out. Much to the delight of the mostly male crowd, two busty babes, one blonde, one brunette, in abbreviated bikinis were introduced as the first match of the evening. The guys hooted and hollered as they went at each other with gusto. At one point the brunette ripped off the blonde's top to roars of approval. The blonde retaliated by pinning the brunette face down and spanking her luscious bottom while she wriggled and pounded the floor with her hands.

This set the stage for the next bout--a paddling match. The MC announced that the loser of the next match would have to take a full 10 licks with the "attitude adjuster". This time the contestants were a statuesque redhead and an athletic blonde. Both were well-built and hot. Then he brought out "Madame X" who would apply the "attitude adjuster" to the lush tail of the loser. Madame X was a sight. She was six feet tall in high heels and wore a black corset with thigh-high PVC boots. A solidly built Amazon of a woman, she nonetheless had curves in all the right places. Wearing a mask like Catwoman, she carried this black leather paddle with holes in it, making a circuit of the ring holding up the paddle for all to see. The place went wild with guys hooting and clapping.

The two contestants squared off. Both were wearing brief thongs that left them nearly bare and the sight of bouncing breasts and buttocks as they tussled was hypnotic to the mostly male crowd. The rowdy audience rooted for its favorites, mindful of the fact that there was to be an interesting forfeit for the loser.

Bruce rooted for the blonde--not because he wanted her to win, so much as he wanted the redhead to lose. He was looking forward to seeing her lush buns spanked with Madame X's paddle. After two rounds of furious tussling, the blonde did get the upper hand and pinned the unfortunate red haired girl.

The guys wildly for the blonde as the announcer raised up her hand in triumph. "The winner...Trina! and our loser is ...Tess. Ohhh, Tess, Madame X would like to see you now," said the MC, hamming it up for all he was worth.

Tess looked genuinely apprehensive as she beheld Madame X crooking her finger, motioning for Tess to come to the center of the ring. As the crowd hollered, Tess turned her back and bent over dutifully grabbing her knees. Madame X grabbed her around the waist, almost holding her under her arm. With her beautifully rounded posterior sticking up nicely, Tess absorbed 10 hearty smacks of the paddle, each one laid on slowly and with much fanfare by the imperious Madame X. Tess' bouncing buns jiggled at each swat from the paddle, and judging by her shrill yelps and the redness infusing her seat, they were real paddle swats.

By this time Bruce had a raging hard-on and was well lubricated as well.

"Man, that gal really got her tail fanned," said Jim.

"No way would I want that to be me," added Nick.

"I don't know," said Bruce, "maybe it was fake--special effects or something."

"Oh?" said Harry, eyebrows raised. "You think it was fake?"

"I dunno," drawled Bruce, now unsure of himself. "It just didn't look like that big a deal."

"I don't know, Bruce," said Jim, "they claim these paddlings are the real thing." Then he grinned. "Maybe there's a way to find out."

The MC was back now and with him was a tall, well built blonde. She had closely cropped hair and a trim athletic body. Bruce noticed the high set but not overly large breasts and the long well muscled legs. She looked like she did weight training. The broad shoulders and toned arms looked powerful. She was quite alluring, and in her two piece bikini there was not much left to the imagination. To Bruce it seemed like she looked more fit than the others. Bruce didn't see an opponent.

"What's going on? Who's she going to wrestle?"

The rest of the guys smiled at each other--like they had seen this before, but Nick said, "Hell, I dunno. Do you know, Jim?"

"Beats me," said Jim.

Their attention shifted at the sound of the MC's voice.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the part of the evening that you have all been waiting for--our challenge match." The room erupted with applause and cheers. Clearly, Bruce mused, this was a crowd favorite.

"That's right, Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we issue a challenge--to anyone, male or female, who can defeat our champion, our own--Terrible Tawny DeVille." The place went wild. The MC waited for the hooting and cheering to die down.

"If there are any among you who will dare wrestle Terrible Tawny, a reward awaits you. I will give $500, that's right, folks, $500 to the man or woman who can pin Tawny DeVille."

As the room erupted again, Jim said," How about it Bruce, think you can take her?"

"Yeah, Bruce, how 'bout you, you're a strong guy. Wow, $500 is good money."

"C'mon Bruce, she's just a girl."

Bruce was feeling no pain, but, wow, wrestle a girl? Still $500 was not bad.

"But that's it, Jim, Nick, she's a girl."

"Well, if you're chicken..." Nick didn't have to finish.

Bruce stood up. Waved his arms. "Here, me....hey...over here."

The announcer saw him. "There, right, there. The gentleman standing. Come on down, sir."

Bruce grinned and sauntered down to the stage.

The MC stuck a microphone in his face. "And your name is?"

"Uh, Bruce." Bruce was grinning like an idiot. His buddies were cheering him on.

"Very good, Bruce. Tell me--are you ready to wrestle? Are you ready, for the grand prize of $500, to take on our lovely Tawny Deville?"

"Yeah. I'm game."

"He's game, folks. We have a challenger."

Bruce raised his hands as the crowd hooted.

"OK, Bruce. Let me explain the rules of our little contest. It's one round. You wrestle until one of you is pinned or you holler 'uncle'. There is no punching or kicking or hitting But if you lose” And here he paused for effect. “Your fate awaits you...and it is terrible one indeed."

Cheering erupted, but a cold chill crept up Bruce's back.

"If you lose, you have an appointment with Madame X—and her paddle. Ten hearty swats.” He smiled broadly. Did Bruce hear that right? Get spanked by Madame X? He was stunned. He almost didn’t hear the next part.

“Do you accept the challenge? Do you dare?"

Oh my God, thought Bruce, but it was too late. He couldn't back out now. The crowd was roaring and Bruce knew that his buddies were waiting to see if he would chicken out.

"Y-yes, I'll do it," he said somewhat weakly. What had he gotten himself into? He flushed, chagrinned as he contemplated the embarrassing prospect of being paddled by that woman.

They took Bruce backstage and fitted him in a brief Speedo that had him blushing at how ridiculous he looked. He felt nearly naked. When he emerged back into the lights amid howls and jeers, the first thing he saw was Tawny DeVille standing in the middle of the ring, hands on her hips with a wide grin on her face.

They faced off. A bell clanged. Bruce had no idea what to do. The whole thing was terrifying now. He shuffled around, arms outstretched, emulating what he thought he’d seen wrestlers do. Tawny DeVille just smiled and waited. Finally Bruce decided that he had to do something. So he lunged in. His opponent grabbed his wrist and swept her foot behind his. They fell to the mat in a heap. Bruce felt her grab him from the rear in some sort of hold. At the same time he could feel her, her breasts crushing against his back. He managed to turn it around and fell on top of her in a parody of a sexual position. Bruce tried to pin her, but she slipped away and dropped him again, this time sitting on his face. His nose was almost up her crotch. He could smell the musky scent of her. He brought his hands up and palmed her buttocks, trying to push her off. She reversed her position and laid her body across his chest. By now Bruce was exhausted. He had nothing left. Tawny DeVille pressed his shoulders down and pinned him. The bell rang.

Tawny DeVille stood up, victorious. She even extended her hand and pulled Bruce to his feet. He stood on wobbly legs.

“And the winner is---our own Tawny DeVille!” The announcer boomed it out with glee. Bruce tried to regain control of his breathing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the formidable figure of Madame X entering the ring—with her paddle.

“And nowwww---“ The announcer leered at Bruce. “---Our unfortunate loser must take his licks. Madame X, if you will.”

Madame X put her foot on a stool at the center of the ring and crooked her finger at Bruce. The whole place was coming down, shouting and screaming at Madame X, Bruce and everyone else. Bruce tentatively came forward. Good grief, the woman was big and built. No question-- she was all woman, with all the requisite curves, but she had the muscles of a bodybuilder.

She lifted Bruce like he was a rag doll and put him over her propped up knee. Bruce hung there, his butt pointed skyward and his legs waving in the air. Then, WHAP! The paddle smacked his ass and he jumped. It stung! The crowd roared its approval.
WHACK! He got another one. Yow! His ass stung even worse. The heat was beginning to build. He realized then that the paddle was made of some springy material that not only made a lot of noise but generated some real heat.

Smack! Another one made him kick his legs back. Crack! Good grief! His butt was ablaze.

Still, six more swats with that paddle to come, and he was feeling it. His behind really burned, reminding him of childhood spankings from the past, how the sting would make him burst into tears begging his mom to stop. But it didn’t stop until he had all ten solidly applied licks. When it was over Madame X put Bruce on his feet and slyly patted his behind. She whispered in his ear, “You’re a good sport. Come backstage after the show. I’ll let the doorman know.”

Bruce didn’t know what to make of that. He was escorted back to a dressing room where he rubbed his burning buttocks, trying to put out the fire. He put his street clothes back on and while the next match was going on, he slipped back in to watch. He didn’t feel much like rejoining his supposed friends. Obviously, this had been a set up and he had fallen for it. It made him sad, but there was one bright spot. He had been invited backstage. That caused a little flutter of arousal. The wrestling match had actually made him hard. All that body contact with a hot number like Tawny DeVille, the feeling of rubbing up against breasts and buttocks with various body parts. The paddling had been arousing too, and he thought that odd. There was just a warm glow in his seat now that was making him randy as hell. All he knew was that he would very much like to see these women again.
Next week we join Bruce as he goes backstage for...who knows what?
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, June 10, 2019

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for June 9

How do you feel about bruises?

Peter: When she chooses the wood paddle it leaves bruises. The cane a few lite marks.
I like to see them later in mirror, love how she pats my ass gently when bruised.

Fred: As we get older, we are well into retirement years now, we bruise more and they take longer to heal. We have tried Arnica but it does not make much difference. It's just a fact of being old and kinky! It does not stop us having fun.

QBuzz: Recently we have purchased a tawse and my partner has discovered that vigorous application leaves quite a lot of bruising on my backside, which we both appreciate (I do not use the tawse on her, as she has declared that it is 'just for boys').

Amy: When Eric and I first started spanking he promised not to ever leave a mark. I was disappointed and trust me, he got over it quickly. The bruises aren't crazy but they make the whole experience last longer and it's a nice reminder that he was there.

Joe: My wife will leave a bruise on my bottom once in a while which does not bother me but sometimes does her. I tell her it just means she did a good job because I really enjoy her spanking me.

Simon: I don't bruise much unless something really heavy like a thick wooden paddle is used but I do have another problem. After over 40 years of being spanked, caned, strapped and paddled my bottom has several weak spots. Sometimes even a fairly straightforward punishment will cause my bottom to bleed. It is especially a problem if I'm caned and that is very annoying because I love the cane. Fortunately I have someone there who will apply a plaster because it is impossible to put one on your own bum with any accuracy.

Roz: I have on occasion been left with bruising and marks after a spanking. I personally love having both the visual reminder and being able to feel it for a few days. Depending on the severity of the bruising we have used arnica cream.

Jack: No bruising, but very red and warm and stinging after my wife spanks me.

Barrel: I only bruise after a punishment type session, and then only when my wife wields her hair brush and hard rubber paddle severely, which I love. The bruises last several days and are a badge of honor I wear with pride. I have even shown off the lingering weals on the sides of my thighs after a spirited caning with our 3 mm delrin cane to a female friend who knows of our lifestyle. My wife’s favorite hair brush has ribs on the back (think wide corduroy), that pinches my flesh when applied sternly and leaves thin blood blisters that can take 6 weeks to disappear.

Bonnie: I agree with Roz. We see bruises occasionally, but they aren't a problem.

Hermione: I have had bruises occasionally, in the early days of our spanking experiments. I bought arnica (proudly, I might add) and applied it. I enjoyed the sight, but Ron was concerned that he had been too rough. My bottom has now toughened up and I rarely bruise.

Thank you for discussing being black and blue with me.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, June 9, 2019

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #282

It's the weekend, and time for our regular discussion time. So let's talk about blue and related colours.

Do you or your partner experience bruising following a spanking? How do you both feel about the bruises? Do you apply any remedy to reduce the discoloration?

Leave your reply as a comment, and I will publish an edited summary of our discussion once everyone has had an opportunity to speak.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, June 7, 2019

Friday FAIL

We all make mistakes, but these are worthy of a good spanking. Scroll down and see if you agree.

Ummm, wrong colour, doncha think?

Easily fixed. Just turn the cup inside out!

That's some fake news

See that Nike swoosh?

You had one job...

From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

From the Top Shelf - Oaks and Pines

Today I welcome Brigitte and Martine to our blogging family. They have a brand new blog called O&P Spanking Stories, and their stories are pretty hot! There are three stories to choose from, so I'll leave the choice up to you.
  • The Neighbours
  • Unfinished Business
  • Wee-wee Girls
Read one, two or all three! From Hermione's Heart

Monday, June 3, 2019

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for June 2

Where do you hide your spanking toys?

Liza: The bedroom nightstand. Your question reminds me of something that happened.
Before my husband and I were married, we would stay at his parents' house when they were away because we lived across the state from each other. The riding crop fell under the bed and we forgot about it. The next time my husband saw his mom, she handed the crop to him and said, "I believe this is yours. Dad and I have our own." Lol My MIL is the only person that can embarrass my husband.

Roz: Our toys are kept in the bedroom wardrobe and bedside drawers. Visitors would have to be looking to find them and fortunately it hasn't happened...yet! As far as we know anyway!

Joe: Ours are kept in drawers in our bedroom were no else goes but sometimes used in different places. Once a leather strap was forgotten in the living room and when our adult daughter found it my wife just smiled and put it away.

Anon 1: I answer the questions from friends and family. My wife's razor strap stays hanging on the bedroom wall regardless of who is visiting. Don't know how many times I've had four crimson cheeks at the same time over the years!

Jack: Hide, not my wife. The hairbrush hangs in the kitchen, no other items. Spankings are not for entertainment, they serve a purpose. It is well known who rules the house.

Glenmoretales: They are well hidden except for the bath brush which hangs innocently in our ensuite.
As for them being discovered, well that depends who discovers them doesn't it?

Willie: B is like a little squirrel. He has his things stashed all over the house. The vast majority are under the bed in containers of some sort. The longer ones are in his top drawer under clothes. Once in a while he'll pull something out from under the mattress, and some are kept in his night stand. He also has stored some in the furnace room or has created pervertables in there.

I keep waiting for someone to ask why there is a ring bolt in our bedroom ceiling but no one has. LOL

Rosco: We have a locked box in our bedroom. The (grown) kids have asked once or twice what is inside when they visit.

My sister-in-law found a riding crop when she stayed over once, and neighbors have over heard us a few times - that we know of.

Irene will sometimes spank me then tie me to a chair in her closet and close the door. Or she will tie me to the bed and spank me. Then she will leave me to reflect on my behavior for 30 minutes or so. When she returns she will pretend to be somebody else discovering that I am a naughty boy who needs to be punished.

But we have never really been caught.

Ronnie: Most are now kept in our bedroom wardrobe. A couple under the mattress and under the bed. No one has spotted anything so far or at least I don't think so.

QBuzz: Most are in the wardrobe where few would look, though a few are hanging on the back of the bedroom door beneath our dressing gowns. I'm sure nobody will ever find them...

Anon 2: The paddle is between the mattress and boxspring, the belt is always on Sir, and the rest is in a briefcase with a lock in our closet.

Barrel: Every toy we have, except one, is in one of those triangular FedEx shipping boxes that is long enough to hold our two canes and one riding crop that are lengthy. It lives behind my closet door as I am always ordered to fetch her selection. I hang the wrist straps of the leather strap and rubber paddle on the box tabs to ease their access. The only implement that lives in a different place is her hair brush, which resides in her makeup drawer, which is opened daily...a constant reminder.

Wendel: They are all hidden in our room. Some in the drawers and other in the closet. Pretty sure the Misses’ sister knows we spank each other so I wouldn’t be surprised if she has gone snooping for implements.

Hermione: When our family comes to visit, I take all the implements down from the rack on the wall and put them into a drawer. In their place I hang necklaces on the empty pegs. I throw a pashmina over the ones hanging on the door, while the small ones are in a box hidden under the bed. Then I put childproof doorknob protectors on the rooms and shut the doors. (That will work until the children are a few years older.)

Tomorrow I promise I'll share a special story with you.
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, June 2, 2019

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #281

It's a fine June day, just right for brunch on the terrace. While we're here, let's consider a problem that most of us have had to deal with at one time or another.

Friends or family are coming over for a visit, and if they saw your spanking toys there would be some awkward questions. Where do you hide your implements?

Leave your response as a comment, and I will publish an edited summary of our discussion once everyone has had a chance to speak.
From Hermione's Heart

Saturday, June 1, 2019

You Completed the Caption

Rosco: Who knows? I wonder if she knows I’m watching her, admiring her big beautiful bottom. I wish I had the courage to say introduce myself and perhaps offer to help Hilda with her sunscreen.

I’m also wondering what it says on the seat of her bikini bottom.

But if she is watching boys, I’m jealous.

Tomy Nash: I think her hubby is dong something he's not supposed to and he's going over the lovely lap later.

QBuzz: Caught perving on the lifeguards at the nearby beach, Hilda was completely unaware of the vulnerability of her bottom as her husband's belt slipped quietly from its loops.

Anon 1: Hermione watched the spanking party that was taking place on the distant sailboat with great delight and wondered how she could get herself an invitation to join the fun.

Ronnie: Hilda knew that spying on Peter and his friends would get her spanked. Now how could she get him to catch her.

Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea.
He put me across his knee.
He'll come back and paddle me.
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

Anon 2: Hilda's husband had given her permission to borrow his spyglass to watch the sea birds and look for whales, but when she heard cries for help coming from the sailboat, she directed her attention to what was happening on the deck of the ship. To her surprise, she discovered that what she was hearing were the painful cries of the first mate, who was bent over the boat's railing as the captain applied a paddle to her bare bottom while other members of the all-female crew looked on. Hilda watched with a mixture of delight and trepidation as the captain meted out the same punishment to each of the other crew members, then made them all line up and stand at attention with their red bottoms on full display while he steered the boat over the horizon. Hilda made sure to document what she had witnessed by taking several photographs of the proceedings so she could show her husband what had happened and demand that he take action to remedy the situation, which he did by putting her over his knee, removing her bikini bottom, and using a hairbrush to blister her ample posterior for being such a nosy busybody, and for disobeying his directive that she stop using his spyglass and camera to pry into people's private lives.

KDPierre: Hilda soon learned the drawbacks of ordering sod from overseas.

[Rosco: If past illustrations are any clue, I believe Hilda is partial to wearing recycled sacks that say "flour" on them.]

Hermione: Hilda was so engrossed in watching Stuart's paddle-laden ship, she never heard Cameron "The Canemaster" Johnson creep up behind her.

That was so much fun! Let's keep the party going with brunch, coming up next.
From Hermione's Heart

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Complete the Caption

Our dear friend Hilda is back. She and her furry friend are enjoying a day out, but what can Hilda be watching?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and we'll compare notes on Saturday.
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, May 27, 2019

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for May 26

Have you ever overheard a co-worker talking about spanking?

Anon: I overheard two female colleagues discussing one's unwanted very hard recent birthday spanking. I recognized it as I knew they were friends, knew one had bday the just ended weekend, heard other remark upon leaving "Can't believe that jerk hit so hard to make you so red" (though I would bet she was faded by that Monday), and she blushed big-time when she saw me approaching men's room, next door. I did not act like I knew anything.

It was quiet time of day, so I suspect the two thought they would not see any other colleagues approach.

Roz: One of our bosses would always say "bend over and touch your toes" whenever something hit the fan or someone was in trouble, not to the person but more in fun. She also used to make other references. I never reacted.

There have been other vague references made in jest and again, I didn't react or respond. I don't know if I was afraid of giving myself away lol

Wendel: I worked with a woman that talked about always getting her birthday spanking and spanking under the mistletoe at Christmas. The day after her birthday she would tell everyone that she couldn’t sit.

Yorkie: Never.

Rosco: Three thoughts here:

At one job, two women arrived together early one day and one was carrying a hockey stick - something rarely seen in our town, especially in an office. I asked her what she was going to with it.

She replied in a very deliberate clear voice. “I am going to spank you with it.” Then she just walked by. I was stunned. How did she know or did she know? To this day I wish I’d asked her where and when it would be and maybe it would have really happened.

Years later, my wife would and still does call me up and tell me about the spanking I’m going to get. Once I answered vis speakerphone and was slow to change the mode. I think the woman closest at the time probably heard, but she was always pretty discreet.

Last, our growing company had hired a new nationwide technology czar to improve our internet presence. He was doing a presentation for 100 or so folks, when a “Captain Spankypants” icon popped up. He was later found to be dishonest and fired.

Jack: My wife and I work at the same company, two different departments. Was getting strange looks from some female co-workers and finally told my wife about it. She smiled, one day during lunch the women were talking about their husbands, how mad they get at them, I just said I spank mine, works wonders.

QBuzz: Nope, although every time there is a harrassment scandal in the press my grandmother seems to enjoy waxing lyrical about how some men in the office would always give you 'a smack on the bum' in the good old days!

Hermione: At meetings some of the guys would joke about spanking and other kinky activities. I was afraid to laugh or appear too knowing because, like Roz, I was afraid of giving myself away.

Thanks for a great discussion!
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, May 26, 2019

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #280

Welcome! You're just in time for a hot slice of pizza and an ever hotter topic, so find a chair and we'll get started.

Have you ever overheard a co-worker discuss spanking? If so, how did you react? Did you join in the conversation, or did you later approach (or think about approaching) the co-worker privately?

Leave your response as a comment, and I will publish a summary of our discussion once everyone has had an opportunity to speak.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, May 24, 2019

Friday FUN

Do you have the urge to go? Me too. While we're using the facilities let's see what's posted on the walls of the public washroom.

Wash your hands then have a fine weekend!
From Hermione's Heart

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

From the Top Shelf - The Flogging of Annette

Today's extract comes from the classic novel Frank and I published in 1902 by Grove Press of New York which, you are probably aware, is about a spankophile who takes in a young 'boy' who turns out not to be!! This scene takes place after our trusty narrator has realised that 'Frank' is in fact 'Frances' and becomes sexually involved with her. They go on a visit to Paris as lovers, and on returning from a stroll to their hotel, they catch the chambermaid, Annette, stealing from their belongings.
When she saw us suddenly enter the room, she jumped up, turned very pale, and stood looking at us, utterly taken aback and trembling all over. She was a tall, slim, good looking girl about twenty one years old; with a trim figure, black hair and eyes, red lips and white teeth, and a saucy little nez retrousse. She had a clear olive complexion, and she was dressed in a well fitting black frock, with white apron, collar and cuffs, and her luxuriant hair was covered by a white frilled cap with scarlet ribbons.

Frances at once went to the toilet table, on which she had left her purse, but it was gone. When she informed me of the fact, I locked the door and put the key in my pocket.

Then I went to the trembling girl and searched her capacious pocket, finding in it the purse, half a dozen lace handkerchieves, the same number of pairs of gloves, and also a number of small articles she had taken out of the trunk. Had we not happened to return unexpectedly, and thus catch the thief red handed, we should never have known who had stolen the things.

Frances could not speak French, so I acted as spokesman, saying to the girl, "We have caught you nicely, Annette. You are a thief. What have you got to say for yourself before I send for the manager of the hotel and ask him to hand you over to the police?" I had no intention of doing any such thing, as the whole thing would have been a major bore, but I wanted to give the girl a fright.

She burst into floods of tears, wringing her hands, and exclaiming in a tone of entreaty " Oh, sir! Oh, sir! Don't give me to the police. I am an honest girl but I was suddenly tempted to do wrong when I saw the purse and the keys on the table. Oh do not have me arrested! Forgive me! Oh, please forgive me, I have an old mother to support. Oh please forgive me!"

She was in an awful funk and it suddenly struck me that there might be some fun to be had. I thought it very likely that, rather than go to gaol, she would let me flog her. At any rate I would give her the choice of the alternatives and I hoped she would choose the flogging. She was a clean looking, pretty girl and my cock stirred at the thought of turning her up, and reddening her bottom.

So, I said to her: "You are a thief, and therefore you must be punished, but I will not hand you over to the police if you will consent to receive a flogging, in the same way that we flog naughty girls in England." She stopped crying and looked at me for a moment, her big black eyes wide open, as if she hardly grasped the meaning of my words, then she said, in a tone of relief: "Oh sir, rather than go to prison and lose my good character, I will consent to receive any punishment you wish to inflict on me."

"Very well," I said. "But you must understand that I will flog you soundly."

She shuddered slightly and asked, in a shaky voice "But, sir, in what way do you intend to flog me?"

"I intend to flog your bare bottom." I replied.

She blushed scarlet, and again began to cry, saying in a horrified tone: "Oh but sir; when I said I would take the punishment, I did not think you intended to inflict it upon my bare person. I thought you would flog me over my clothes. You must not strip me. I cannot bear the exposure. It would be too shameful. Oh! I cannot suffer it."

"Well, if you will not submit to me entirely, I must send for the police," I said, walking to the bell rope and taking it in my hand.

"Oh, don't ring the bell! Wait a moment. Oh! What shall I do! Oh, please don't send for the police!" she wailed in a piteous tone, stretching out her arms with an imploring gesture towards me, while the tears ran down her flushed cheeks.

"I WILL ring the bell unless you consent to take a severe flogging on your bare bottom," I said sternly.

She wrung her hands and wept bitterly; then after a few moments hesitation, she sobbed out "Oh sir, it is shameful to be laid bare...but I cannot go to prison. I must...submit. Oh! Oh!"

Then turning her back to us, she covered her blushing face with her apron, and sobbed.

The girl's horror at the idea of her bottom being exposed was deep and unfeigned, for she was evidently a very modest girl. I must confess that the sight of her distress added piquancy to the whole affair. It always affords great pleasure to a lover of the rod, to flog a female culprit who appears to feel the shame of the exposure more than the pain of the whipping.

All the time the talk had been going on, Frances has stood looking interested, but not understanding a word that was said; and she now impatiently asked what I had been saying.

I told her that I had given Annette the alternative of going to gaol or taking a flogging, and that she had chosen the flogging.

"She deserves it," said Frances emphatically, and with rather a grim smile. Then, eagerly: "Let me flog her. You know I have been longing to inflict corporal punishment, and now there is a chance for me. Do let me flog her."

I smiled, for I could quite understand her desire to whip, and resolved to let her have her wish. "All right," I said, "I will horse her on my back, and you shall flog her."

Frances looked very pleased, and at once prepared for action by taking off her gloves , hat and jacket. Then she said: "We have got no rod, and I am not going to make my hand sore by spanking her, so you must find something for me to flog her with."

I looked around the room for some instrument of punishment, and my eyes fell on a pair of small rug straps, each about a couple of feet long and half an inch wide. One of them would do very well, as it would sting the culprit's bottom sharply without bruising the flesh.

So I pointed the straps out to Frances, and told her to take one of them. Annette was still standing with her back towards us, her apron was over her head, and she was crying. Going to her, I laid my hand on her shoulder, turned her round and drew her hands away from her face, saying :The lady - my wife - is going to flog you. So you are fortunate. Your punishment will not be as severe as if I was holding the strap. Now take off your dress and stays."

"Oh if only Monsieur would please leave the room I promise not to resist Madame while she flogs me," said Annette, clasping her hands and pleading pitifully.

"I will not leave the room. I am going to hold you while you are being punished. Now remove your dress and stays, and be quick or I will ring the bell."

She hesitated a moment, and I laid my hand again on the bell-rope, then, heaving a deep sigh, she slowly, with trembling fingers, took off the two garments, and stood before us, with her head lowered and with streaming eyes. As her chemise was cut rather low at the neck , I could see the division between her small but well rounded bubbies.

I had made her partly undress because, when a woman is 'horsed' for a flogging with her dress and stays on, it is very difficult to get her petticoats turned up high enough to bare her bottom in a satisfactory way.

At one side of the room, there was a large pier glass, and opposite it a wardrobe with a long mirror, and it struck me that if I stood between the two articles of furniture, I should be able to see the whole of the girl's body reflected in the looking-glass , and thus be able to witness the flogging.

"Now, Annette, I am going to take you on my back and hold you, while Madame flogs you." So saying, I went to the sobbing girl, who trembled and shrank away from me, but made no attempt at resistance. Seizing one of her wrists in each of my hands, I drew her arms over my shoulders, and then, stooping forward, raised her feet well off the floor, "horsing" her in proper style without any difficulty, for I am six feet in height and, although she was tall, she was not heavy.

"Now, Frances," I said, "the girl will be sure to kick and struggle when she feels the strap, so you must pin up her petticoats so that they will not fall down in the middle of her punishment."

Frances rolled the culprit's petticoats, which were white and clean, up to her shoulders, and pinned the garments securely. She wore her chemise under her drawers, which were tightly stretched over her bottom by the curve of her body, and, as I was between the two mirrors, I could see everything perfectly.

As Frances began to untie the girl's drawers, she sobbed out "Oh, Madame, don't take down my drawers!" The drawers were untied and pulled down to her knees. Then she made another appeal: "Oh please leave my chemise. Leave me some modesty. Do not strip me quite bare!"

The chemise was rolled up and pinned to the petticoats, leaving the girl naked from the middle of her back to the tops of her stockings and, as she felt her last garment removed, she uttered a low wailing cry of shame.

She had a small but well shaped bottom, slender thighs and slim legs, cased in tight, clean, white cotton stockings gartered at the middle of her thighs with black ribbons. Her ankles were trim, and she was wearing neat, well polished, shoes. Her olive tinted skin was very smooth, and it appeared to be fine in texture.

Everything being ready, I told the weeping culprit, who was shivering with shame and fear, that she must try and bear her punishment with fortitude, and not attract attention by making an outcry.

Frances took the strap and twisted part of it round her hand, leaving a length of about eighteen inches to flog with.

"Now, Frances," I said, "give her a couple of dozen strokes and lay them on smartly, but not too severely. Begin at the upper part of her bottom and flog down to her thighs, then up again to her loins. Keep cool, and don't cross the cuts."

Frances whirled the strap in the air, and as I looked in the glass in front of me, I could plainly see the girl's eyes dilate with fear, and I also noticed the cheeks of her bottom contract, the smooth skin assuming a rough appearance. Crack! The long piece of leather fell smartly across the girl's bottom, and both the olive tinted cheeks were instantly marked with a long red stripe, the exact breadth of the strap, the stinging pain making the culprit start convulsively on my back, and utter a stifled cry. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Frances swung the strap with a graceful sweep of her arm, and as skilfully as if she had been a practised flogger; laying on the strokes with equal force, in slow time, one below the other, so that the red stripes were printed on Annette's skin at almost regular distances apart.

She plunged and wriggled, whimpered and sobbed; and I could feel her body quiver, and shrink against my back each time the stinging strap struck her bottom.

I had never before 'horsed' a girl, therefore it was a novel sensation, and a pleasing one, to feel her breasts and belly rubbing against my back, and the front of her thighs rubbing my bottom as she writhed in pain. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! She bounced about, twisting her hips from side to side; her flesh twitched at each stroke; she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, with an agonised expression on her face, as the strap hissed through the air over her bottom, then she gasped and cried, the tears running in streams down the scarlet cheeks. By this time, Frances had flogged down to the culprit's thighs, so that the whole of her bottom was prettily marked with alternate red and white stripes.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Frances was now flogging upwards. The sharp noise made by the strap as it struck the girl's firm flesh echoed through the room. She kicked up her heels in pain, struggling hard to free her wrists from my grasp, and though she did not scream, she moaned and cried piteously:

"Oh madame! Madame! Oh, chere madame! Pas - si - fort! Oh, pas - si - fort! Oh madame ayez pitie! J'en - ai - assez ! Oh ! Oh!OHHHH!!"

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Her moans changed to low barely suppressed shrieks , and she threw her legs about so frantically that her drawers fell off completely, and in her now liberated writhes and plunges, I caught sight of the thick black hair at the junction of her thighs, her struggles becoming so violent that I had some difficulty in holding her in position.

Crack! CRACK! Frances laid on the last two strokes with a little extra force, extracting from the culprit two rather loud squeals; and now that the flogging was over, the whole surface of her bottom, from the loins to the thighs, was a bright mass of scarlet where one stripe had overlapped another.

Frances threw down the strap, and stood for a moment looking with an amused smile at the results of her handiwork, then she unpinned the girl's petticoats and let them fall. I released Annette's wrists and she stood on the floor, crying and twisting her loins with the smarting pain of her well whipped bottom. Her face was bright red and she looked very ashamed.

"Now, Annette, it is all over. You may go," I said.

She picked up her drawers, and turning aside, drew them over her legs and tied the string around her waist, then she put on her stays and dress, whimpering, sobbing, and wiping her streaming eyes with her apron, then she put her cap on straight and hurried out of the room.
Wasn't the detail exquisite!
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, May 20, 2019

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for May 19

What is the biggest turn-on for you in a spanking?

Bonnie: When I read this question, I was curious what my answer was ten years ago and whether I agreed today. Back then, I said it was the element of voluntary submission. I had to choose to be spanked.

That still works for me today, but there is another element. I am enthralled by the whole punishment headspace. When Randy tells me that I will now be spanked for my misbehavior, my pulse races. A hundred memories flood my consciousness. My hands involuntarily reach back as if it were possible to prevent the coming onslaught. When the paddle appears in his hand, I gasp, even though I have seen (and felt) it many times before. As I take my place over his lap, I feel small and yet fully deserving of the fiery discipline he is about to dispense. Afterward, I am sore, but totally ready for just about any adult fun he wants to explore.

QBuzz: I think the intimacy of it - being close to my partner and feeling our bodies against each other, along with the pain and heat we deliver to each other's bottoms.

Windy: His words and the way he touches me during the spanking........ YOWZA!

abby: The sound/tone of His voice, the feel of His He claims every inch of me before the spanking starts...and when it is over, being pulled in close to Him....

Yorkie: I don’t think there is only one thing that turns me on but if I use my body’s reaction as a guide, it would have to be the spanking itself. We don’t do punishment or role play so it’s just the act itself that supercharges my libido for the inevitable lovemaking afterwards.

Anon 1: The fact that he is in control.

Wendel: Taking the pants down and baring the bottom is one of my favorite parts.

Roz: This is a great question. The biggest turn-on's are the anticipation then my pants being removed/pulled down.

Anon 2: The waiting, standing there, scolding, the pants and underpants pulled down. My girlfriend is so good, that my erection is throbbing, she really enjoys that. She spanks just enough for me not to come and still with a warm, stinging bottom, she reaps the rewards and so do I. The turn on for me is being a naughty little boy and my girlfriend being the Mommy who spanks her naughty little boy.

Rosco: I’m not sure exactly how to answer, but giving up control for me is wonderfully relaxing.

After a spanking, Irene will generally leave me for awhile (to reflect on my behavior etc). I’ll often doze off while waiting and I rarely otherwise nap. Sometimes I’m lying on the bed and sometimes I’m tied to it. Last Thursday she instructed me to sit in a chair in her dark closet with my hot bottom. Even there I kept falling asleep.

Some people relax by meditating. I relax by getting spanked.

Ronnie: There isn't just one but a combination. The anticipation, his voice, his hands and the way he touches my body during the spanking.

Hermione: I too went back to my original answer and it's pretty much the same today. Thinking about being spanked is actually more of a turn-on than the actual act which, you have to admit, is quite painful!

This topic was just as much fun the second time around!
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, May 19, 2019

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #279

The sun is shining here (finally!) so let's have brunch out on the patio as we discuss a topic originally presented by Bonnie in a long-ago brunch. I hope we have as much fun with it today as readers did back then.

When thinking about your spanking experiences, what single aspect do you find to be the biggest turn-on?

Leave your response as a comment, and once everyone has weighed in, I'll publish an edited summary of our discussion.
From Hermione's Heart