Friday Fail - NOT

This picture was posted on Failblog, and when i saw it, I wondered why. A highway sign of Belt Route is a WIN in my book!

Colouring Outside the Lines

When I am spanked, most of what I receive is concentrated on my sweet spot - the centre of each buttock, where the padding is plentiful and the sensation is erotically delicious.

Sometimes the paddle strays beyond this imaginary centre. I call it colouring outside the lines. Sometimes it's a little higher or lower than the regular impact zone. This heightens the sensation for me and, because it's unexpected, it keeps my attention and draws me back if my mind starts to drift off. These out of bounds areas are also quite sensitive because they have not been warmed up, and the resulting jolt of pain adds some spice.

Take, for example, our most recent adventure with the dressage whip. Sometimes I think my husband can read my mind. I had been thinking and writing about that particular implement but he had no way of knowing. Yet that was what he had chosen. In fact, it was all he had chosen. But when I said it would be fine to use later on, after a warmup, he left the room and came back with the bamboo paddle and the wooden shoehorn. Neither one can be considered a lightweight implement in terms of pain, but both are easier on my bottom than the whip.

First he applied the stingy shoehorn, at moderate speed and intensity, to my bare bottom as I bent over the bed. Then the paddle, slower and more methodical, but with harder impact. So far, so good. Then the whip. Oh, no, too soon!

I knew the strokes weren't hard, but they were very stingy. I wished my bottom had had more of a warmup. Ron tends to adjust his speed according to the width of the implement, and the rapid tapping was very tingly indeed.

He switched to the two wooden weapons, and when it was time for the whip again it was a little more bearable. My target zone was warm, reddened, and adjusted to the treatment it was receiving.

The third time it came around, though, the strokes were much harder. That would have been fine, except that the tip was connecting with my right hip. This wrapping outside the comfort zone was initially an irritation, but it soon became an ouchiness I didn't want. I came extremely close to wanting this to end. Telling myself it was probably no worse than the caning I have been longing to experience didn't help.

Ron put down the whip, thank goodness, and applied each of the other paddles to my posterior again. Does it sound odd to say they felt good? Much nicer than the alternative. Then it was the whip's turn, but before I felt it, I heard a whistling swishhhh. Ron was waving the whip through the air, entranced by the sound. I started to laugh at his silliness.

Once more he coloured outside the lines, lower down this time. I knew I would have marks. Clenching the end of the blanket between my teeth, I willed myself to breathe and take it. The laughing helped, as Ron alternately sliced the air and my bottom, describing the sound that it made. I forced myself to remember my brave words about wanting my limits tested. They were being pushed, and I struggled to ignore that inner voice that shouted "Stop!"

Ron must have sensed my struggle, for he uncharacteristically asked "Are you done?" My lightning-fast "Yes!" brought our adventure outside the lines to a close. I wiped the tears from my eyes and hugged him. 

As I write this I do have marks: tiny red ridges along the outside of my right hip that look like long, bony fingers fanning out across the pale skin. I wonder how long they will linger as reminders of our excursion outside the lines.

Bottom Birthday Cakes

While we're on the subject of birthdays, here are some lovely cakes that would be perfect for a spanking good birthday.

The last one isn't a cake, but it's close enough.

There is another more cake here.

A Booty Birthday

I received this clever birthday card last week.

And inside...

This was my first experience in creating my own gif (animated) file. It's easy. If you're interested, try it at Picasion.

From the Top Shelf - Fanny Hill

The first book I downloaded onto my new electronic reader was Fanny Hill by John Cleland. It was free, and I thought there might be some spanking in it. There was.  The language is a bit heavy-going, and I almost missed it, but here it is. 

Fanny, a lady who entertains men in a lascivious manner, has a client who enjoys flagellation. This is her first experience with administering a birching, but she is willing to try anything once.

After a competent preparation by apologies, and encouragement to go through my part with spirit and constancy, he stood up near the fire, whilst I went to fetch the instruments of discipline out of a closet hard by: these were several rods, made each of two or three strong twigs of birch tied together, which he took, handled, and view'd with as much pleasure, as I did with a kind of shuddering presage.

Next we took from the side of the room a long broad bench, made easy to lie at length on by a soft cushion in a callico-cover; and every thing being now ready, he took his coat and waistcoat off; and at his motion and desire, I unbutton'd his breeches, and rolling up his shirt rather above his waist, tuck'd it in securely there...

Stooping then to untie his garters, he gave them me for the use of tying him down to the legs of the bench: a circumstance no farther necessary than, as I suppose, it made part of the humour of the thing, since he prescribed it to himself, amongst the rest of the ceremonial.

I led him then to the bench, and according to my cue, play'd at forcing him to lie down: which, after some little shew of reluctance, for form-sake, he submitted to; he was straightway extended flat upon his belly, on the bench, with a pillow under his face; and as he thus tamely lay, I tied him slightly hand and foot, to the legs of it; which done, his shirt remaining truss'd up over the small of his back, I drew his breeches quite down to his knees; and now he lay, in all the fairest, broadest display of that part of the back-view; in which a pair of chubby, smooth-cheek'd and passing white posteriours rose cushioning upwards from two stout, fleshful thighs, and ending their cleft, or separation by an union at the small of the back, presented a bold mark, that swell'd, as it were, to meet the scourge.

Seizing now one of the rods, I stood over him, and according to his direction, gave him in one breath, ten lashes with much good-will, and the utmost nerve and vigour of arm that I could put to them, so as to make those fleshy orbs quiver again under them; whilst he himself seem'd no more concern'd, or to mind them, than a lobster would a fleabite.  In the mean time, I viewed intently the effects of them, which to me at least appear'd surprisingly cruel: every lash had skimmed the surface of those white cliffs, which they deeply reddened, and lapping round the side of the furthermost from me, cut specially, into the dimple of it such livid weals, as the blood either spun out from, or stood in large drops on; and, from some of the cuts, I picked out even the splinters of the rod that had stuck in the skin.  Nor was this raw work to be wonder'd at, considering the greenness of the twigs and the severity of the infliction, whilst the whole surface of his skin was so smooth-stretched over the hard and firm pulp of flesh that fill'd it, as to yield no play, or elusive swagging under the stroke: which thereby took place the more plum, and cut into the quick.

I was however already so mov'd at the piteous sight, that I from my heart repented the undertaking, and would willingly have given over, thinking he had full enough; but, he encouraging and beseeching me earnestly to proceed, I gave him ten more lashes; and then resting, survey'd the increase of bloody appearances.  And at length, steel'd to the sight by his stoutness in suffering, I continued the discipline, by intervals, till I observ'd him wreathing and twisting his body, in a way that I could plainly perceive was not the effect of pain, but of some new and powerful sensation...

Resuming then the rod and the exercise of it, I had fairly worn out three bundles, when, after an increase of struggles and motion, and a deep sigh or two, I saw him lie still and motionless; and now he desir'd me to desist, which I instantly did; and proceeding to untie him, I could not but be amazed at his passive fortitude, on viewing the skin of his butcher'd, mangled posteriours, late so white, smooth and polish'd, now all one side of them a confused cut-work of weals, livid flesh, gashes and gore, insomuch that when he stood up, he could scarce walk; in short, he was in sweetbriars.

My gentleman had now put on his clothes and recomposed himself, when giving me a kiss, and placing me by him, he sat himself down as gingerly as possible, with one side off the cushion, which was too sore for him to bear resting any part of his weight on.

Being a true gentleman, he offers to birch her in return, and she agrees.

He had then little to do, but to unloose the strings of my petticoats, and lift them, together with my shift, navel-high, where he just tuck'd them up loosely girt, and might be slipt up higher at pleasure.  Then viewing me round with great seeming delight, he laid me at length on my face upon the bench, and when I expected he would tie me, as I had done him, and held out my hands, not without fear and a little trembling, he told me he would by no means terrify me unnecessarily with such a confinement; for that though he meant to put my constancy to some trial, the standing it was to be completely voluntary on my side, and therefore I might be at full liberty to get up whenever I found the pain too much for me...

All by back parts, naked half way up, were now fully at his mercy: and first, he stood at a convenient distance, delighting himself with a gloating survey of the attitude I lay in, and of all the secret stores I thus expos'd to him in fair display.  Then, springing eagerly towards me, he cover'd all those naked parts with a fond profusion of kisses; and now, taking hold of the rod, rather wanton'd with me, in gentle inflictions on those tender trembling masses of my flesh behind, than in any way hurt them, till by degrees, he began to tingle them with smarter lashes, so as to provoke a red colour into them, which I knew, as well by the flagrant glow I felt there, as by his telling me, they now emulated the native roses of my other cheeks. 

When he had thus amus'd himself with admiring and toying with them, he went on to strike harder, and more hard; so that I needed all my patience not to cry out, or complain at least.  At last, he twigg'd me so smartly as to fetch blood in more than one lash... 

But still I bore everything without crying out... You may guess then in what a curious pickle those soft flesh-cushions of mine were, all sore, raw, and in fine, terribly clawed off; but so far from feeling any pleasure in it, that the recent smart made me pout a little, and not with the greatest air of satisfaction receive the compliments, and after-caresses of the author of my pain.

She doesn't think much of being birched, and does not obtain any erotic stimulation from it at the time. Later on, it's a different story.
 

But scarce was supper well over, before a change so incredible was wrought in me, such violent, yet pleasingly irksome sensations took possession of me that I scarce knew how to contain myself; the smart of the lashes was now converted into such a prickly heat, such fiery tinglings, as made me sigh, squeeze my thighs together, shift and wriggle about my seat, with a furious restlessness; whilst these itching ardours, thus excited in those parts on which the storm of discipline had principally fallen, detach'd legions of burning, subtile, stimulating spirits, to their opposite spot and centre of assemblage, where their titillation rag'd so furiously, that I was even stinging mad with them.  No wonder then, that in such a taking, and devour'd by flames that licked up all modesty and reserve, my eyes, now charg'd brimful of the most intense desire, fired on my companion very intelligible signals of distress: my companion, I say, who grew in them every instant more amiable, and more necessary to my urgent wishes and hopes of immediate ease.

So she enjoyed it after all, but spanking would not become a regular occurrence.

I was not, however, at any time, re-enticed to renew with him, or resort again to the violent expedient of lashing nature into more haste than good speed: which, by the way, I conceive acts somewhat in the manner of a dose of Spanish flies; with more pain perhaps, but less danger; and might be necessary to him, but was nothing less so than to me, whose appetite wanted the bridle more than the spur.

You Completed the Blogaversary Caption

This picture was challenging, but I love all of your excellent captions. I have also added two of the best captions from Historic LOLs.

Prefectdt: "Hippogriffs, what a great excuse to wear both jodhpurs and a flying helmet. Honey! Get my riding crop please."

 Mick: Wherever she's going, she forgot her clothes.

 Ronnie: "Fare thee well my love, I must ride my hippogriff for he will be offended if I don't but wait for my return and then you can spanke me."

Kaki: "Hurry, we need to return Buckbeak back to Hagrid and get to Hogwarts before curfew. I wonder how many points I will get for being out of uniform?"

Scunge: Hermione says "Wheeeeee there goes the last of my uniform I feel so FREE!"

Michael: "Princess Hermione, astride Erubescence, her personal hippogriff, searches the realm of Callipygia for the Golden Paddle which when spanked upon her royal derrière will begin the Moon festival where all the women of the land are spanked on their bare bottoms beneath the full moon."

LittleMonkey: "Daddy, Daddy, I want to ride the spanking-go-round next!"

Little Butterfly: "Yes, Sir, I know I'm not aloud to ride the hippogryph naked, but... catch me if you can!!" 


Kaelah: "It had been a wonderful night. Her new lover was handsome, a lot of fun and a very skilled spanker indeed. In the morning he had given her one last long, delicious hand spanking. That's why she had finally been a bit late for her Monday morning business meeting, though. So she had decided to take one of the express hippogriffs. She had packed everything as fast as possible: her weekly presentation, the hand-outs and her other business papers. Still, as she left in a hurry, waving him goodbye, there was this strange gut feeling that she might have forgotten something important..."

Season: "Just as Snape was about to take a cane to innocent angelic Hermione, the hippogriff swooped in and rescued her. Although in the rush she forgot to grab her clothes." 

Raven Red: " You rather do look fetching in your birthday suit, hope the hippogriff is taking you straight home though..."

Thank you for playing, and thank you for all the birthday and blogaversary good wishes. You will all be happy to know that I did get a very good birthday spanking from Ron. I even counted the strokes out loud, but I won't tell you how many there were!

See you all next week!

Complete the Caption - Blogaversary Special

It's my third blogaversary here at Hermione's Heart. As it happens, it's also my birthday.

In honour of the double celebration, I have a very special picture for you. No, not the one of Crookshanks above. (I hope I get to blow out the candles before she demolishes the cake!) It's the one below - a very rare photo of a hippogriff.

If you are a Harry Potter fan, you know all about hippogriffs. They are mythical creatures, half eagle and half horse. But who is that on the beast's back? Could it be Hermione? Where have they been? Where are they going? What will happen when they get there?

This is obviously a fantasy, and in fantasies anything can happen. So let your imagination run wild and create an out of this world caption. Leave it as a comment, or send me an email.  I will post your mythical musings tomorrow.