Saturday, September 24, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #144


Welcome back to another weekend brunch, when we all have a chance to discuss the topic we love. Spankings involve pain, and it's a very good kind of pain. But what about the other kind? You know, pain in other parts of the body that's not so nice and not particularly welcome? How do you feel about that?

What do you consider your pain threshold - low, medium or high? Has your (or your partner's) tolerance for spanking pain influenced the ability to deal with other kinds of pain? How so?

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

You Completed the Caption

What are these ladies thinking? You be the judge.

kdpierre: "Honey, sit up straight. We're going for 'snooty' not 'sultry'. "

"Hey, no excuses, young lady! We're all wearing butt plugs and you don't see it affecting our perfect posture."

Ronnie: Let's bring the boys in and have a little fun. Remember I get to spank first.

MrWarmBuns: Now don't forget, as you judge how each of these women spank, pay attention to how hard he tries to get away and whether his ouches are real or if he is just trying to get her to go easier!

Welcome, MrWarmBuns!

Anon 1: I'm telling you, the best thing we can do is for each of us to vote for a different spanker so the contest ends in a six-way tie. The last time I judged one of these spanking contests, the men who lost were so upset with the way us six girl judges had scored their spanking skills that they decided to demonstrate their prowess by each of them soundly spanking every single one of us judges on our bare bottoms. Each one of them used a different implement, which, believe you me, made quite an impression on us and caused us to re-evaluated our scores and declare all the men to be winners. Of course, that pleased them greatly because it meant they all got prizes, but the only thing us girls came away from the contest with was the inability to sit down comfortably for a week.

Sir Wendel: Their form was wrong, they were out of sync and the costumes were hideous. I only give that spanking a “5”.

Anon 2: Look, I know it seems a little weird to watch another woman being spanked, especially when you know that you'll soon be over your boyfriend's knee getting the same treatment, but take it from me, relax and enjoy it like I am because I guarantee you, she's certainly going to take pleasure in watching us get our spankings. Just think about it this way, at least we're able to sit here and revel in her spanking, while she's most definitely going to be standing up like the sore-bottomed ladies behind us when she's watching ours.

Oh, honey, if you think she's doing a lot of hollering and kicking now, just wait until he takes down her panties and starts applying that hairbrush to her bare bottom. That's when things really start to heat up, if you know what I mean.

You're new to the Spanked Wives Club, so I'm going to give you a little advice, don't be fooled by the indifferent attitudes of the rest of the girls because they're just putting on brave faces to make you think you're the only one who's anxious about being spanked by her husband in front of everybody. Take it from me, even though they'd like you to believe that they consider the spankings to be no big deal, and that all the kicking and squirming and pleading and squealing they do is just for show and to make their husband's feel important, it just not true. Take it from me, we're all just as nervous as you are because every one of us knows good and well that when she's face down across her husband's lap and he's blistering her bare, upturned bottom with a paddle or a hairbrush, her reactions are going to be anything but fake. Just look at the way Dan is applying that paddle to Joan's behind and how much redder it gets with each resounding smack, and tell me you think the kicking and squirming and pleading and squealing she's doing is just for show! Believe you me, she's feeling every swat, and will be for days to come, as will we all by the end of the evening's festivities. The simple truth is that no matter how old we are, or how sophisticated we dress or look, or what kind of airs we put on, or what kind of stories we tell to each other (and to ourselves) to make us feel better about it, the fact is that every single time we find ourselves draped over our loving husbands' knees with our dresses up at our waists and our panties down at out ankles, we're just naughty little girls reacting the way naughty little girls react when they get their bare bottoms soundly spanked for acting like, well, naughty little girls. There's no shame in it, it's just part of being a Spanked Wife, and none of us, despite what some of us would have you think, would have it any other way. So, welcome to the club.

Hermione: (lady on the left) Just look at those waiters. White aprons and no pants - yummy!
(lady in the centre) I'm going to spank the one carrying the champagne tray. He's got a lovely bum.


Wasn't that fun? For more fun, please do join us for brunch. It will be served right here in a few hours.
From Hermione's Heart

Friday, September 23, 2016

Friday FAIL

You guessed it! Another expedition to Walmart. Be on the lookout for exposed body parts.





I couldn't have said it better myself





Slip, sliding away





Too small, lady. Put them back where you found them.





His bum is covered; now what about the top?





Censored for good reason ;)


For more fun that's completely uncensored, Complete the Caption.
From Hermione's Heart

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Complete the Caption

Six lovely ladies appear to be waiting...for what? that's up to you.

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will publish your conjectures on Saturday.
From Hermione's Heart

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

From the Top Shelf - Clarice's Correction

We turn the clocks back 50 years or so to a gentler time, before the internet made research and plagiarism both extremely easy. It was harder to cheat back then, but it was still done. But when a cheater was found out, the punishment was far more than a mere slap on the  wrist.

Will Henry wrote the following piece about a spanking born out of total moral justification. Enjoy the contrite young lady's narration!

As I had been told it would be, the front porch light at Professor Harrison's house was on. It provided much more illumination than I really wanted although I was fairly confident that my black raincoat and cape would sufficiently disguise my identity from the neighbours. Shivering with anticipation, I hesitantly rang the doorbell. It occurred to me that the Professor might deliberately make me wait out there until somebody recognised me.

But the door swung open almost immediately, really too soon as far as I was concerned. Although the light from the living room momentarily obscured my vision, I was all too aware of Professor Harrison's imposing masculine figure in the doorway. Somewhat to my surprise he was attired in a black academic cap and gown that perhaps he considered appropriate for the occasion.

"Come in, Clarice," he spoke in a pleasant voice, as if he were genuinely surprised to see me standing there. This, despite the fact that he and I both knew exactly why I was there.

Although I felt my cheeks redden beneath my heavy make-up, I tried to keep my poise as I reluctantly stepped into the nicely furnished living room. I wanted to say something, but could think of nothing that would sound appropriate under the circumstances. My head felt light and it seemed impossible that this was really happening to me. My knees were a little shaky as he gazed curiously at me.

"I must say I feel..." I started to try to explain myself, but he raised a hand to signal me to stop.

"Let me help you out of those things," he said, clearly referring to my raincoat and cape.

I wanted to protest but stood there quietly as he lifted off my cape. My long blonde hair, done up in two tight braids, suddenly tumbled out into full view, along with the two bright red ribbons at the end of each braid. My deliberately juvenile hairstyle made me blush all the more, but I could tell that he was pleased with what he saw.

"The coat too," he said quietly.

I tried to undo the buttons but my fingers were numb and awkward. He observed me for a moment and then took over the task himself. I felt my knees buckle and I wanted to sink right through the floor as the coat came off to reveal the absolutely brazen outfit I had been instructed to wear. This consisted of a paper thin white blouse worn without a bra or anything else beneath it and a ridiculously short pleated black skirt that came only to mid-thigh and failed to conceal the darker portions of my mocha-coloured stockings. Black patent leather pumps with spike heels and pointed toes completed the visible parts of what Professor Harrison had all too accurately described as my initiation uniform.

"Please, Professor, I feel so..." I tried to speak but found myself at a loss for words.

No man had ever seen me attired in such a provocative and absurd manner and I squirmed with humiliation and confusion. I miserably tugged at my abbreviated skirt and wanted to cover myself but didn't have enough hands to do the job. Though I couldn't bear to look up, I could just feel his eyes feasting on my brazenly displayed figure. I'm afraid my skimpy blouse highlighted rather than concealed my pink tipped breasts, while that super mini-skirt and black hose made me feel much too leggy. How I had pleaded to be allowed to wear pantyhose rather than old fashioned regular stockings.

Perhaps I should offer some explanation for my mortifying predicament. I was a 24-year-old research assistant working under Professor Harrison in a field in which he was quite renowned. I had been looking forward to receiving an advanced degree at the University, but for various reasons my research project was not progressing as I had hoped. Feeling considerable pressure to complete the project as soon as possible, I cribbed some research findings from an obscure source that I thought would never be discovered. Alas I had overlooked Professor Harrison's thoroughness and complete familiarity with the field.

He had confronted me with the damning evidence in his office the day before. I had broken down and tearfully begged for another chance. I can remember his exact words:

"Clarice, I can give you another chance, but only if you accept appropriate punishment for this offence!"

I had no idea what he meant, but heard myself saying, "Yes, of course, whatever you say, but please give me another chance."

"It will have to be exactly on the terms I prescribe," he informed me, "And I do mean exactly."

"I-I understand," I feebly replied. I assumed that he intended to extract some sexual favours from me, and was prepared for that. But I was definitely not prepared for what he really had in mind.

"I suppose you could say that your punishment will be something like a sorority initiation..." he began.

Thus, I found myself in Professor Harrison's living room attired in the exact outfit he had insisted upon against my hapless and often astonished objections.

"I'm pleased that you have apparently decided to co-operate, Clarice," he remarked after carefully inspecting me from head to foot. "The session will go much more smoothly that way!"

My stomach did a little flip-flop and I found myself trembling visibly. "Perhaps," I meekly suggested, "You could punish me some other way?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. With that he took me by the hand as if I were a child. I'm sure he must have been a little surprised at how cold my hand was. "Let's go into the study."

My knees felt watery beneath me, and at times I thought I might lose my balance. At least we seemed alone in the house and that was some comfort. His study was what you would expect, lined with books and featuring a large desk and several comfortable chairs.

"Oooooh!" I'm afraid I involuntarily emitted a shriek as I caught sight of the bright red maple sorority paddle prominently displayed right on top of his desk! My heart started thumping wildly and I'm not sure but I must have turned pale under my make-up.
If I'm not mistaken, Professor Harrison chuckled under his breath at my fearful reaction. Although I held back, he forcefully led me towards a straight backed chair adjacent to his desk. I was biting my lip and was hoping desperately that something would intervene to save me or at least stave off what seemed inevitable.

"Bend over the back of that chair, Clarice," he instructed. "Grab the seat with both hands!"

I wanted to argue with him, but my mouth seemed filled with cotton. Miserably, I bent over the back of the chair as he had demanded and clasped the seat with both hands. I didn't have to be told that the back of my skirt had ridden up over the tops of my black stockings. My girlish rear end suddenly felt all too vulnerable, and tears of humiliation were beginning to affect my vision.

"Professor, please..." I managed to stammer indignantly.

He seemed in no hurry, but still events moved much too quickly as far as I was concerned. Almost before I realised what was happening, I felt his fingers on the hem of my short skirt. Up it went, right to my waist!

"Aaaaaaah!" I shrieked with horror as my black panties and matching garter belt suddenly came into full view. Instinctively I twisted in an effort to preserve my modesty.

"Hold still! Stay in position!" Professor Harrison demanded in an angry, commanding voice I had never heard before.

I shuddered and perhaps would have resisted had it not all seemed so unreal to me. A few long moments passed, during which time I'm sure he relished the sight of my panty-clad bottom, full white thighs and stocking-clad legs.

"Keep your hands on the seat!" he ordered.

An instant later, his fingers were inside the elastic waistband of my black panties!

"Oh no!" I screamed.

Without further ado, down came my panties! I wanted to die of shame and humiliation. With one swift, continuous motion, the Professor yanked my panties right down to the tops of my stockings,leaving my plump, feminine bottom horribly bare and way too vulnerable. Although, in retrospect, I don't suppose I should have been too surprised, I was completely dumbfounded by this unexpected assault on my pride and dignity.

"Hold still!" he demanded, though I hadn't really moved all that much.

"Oh this is just awful!" I protested as I began to recover my senses. "I didn't realise you would..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for that paddle on his desk.

"Oh please, Professor," I burst out, "Just use your hand! Don't use that awful paddle! Please!"

"Stay in position!" he barked at me, taking no notice.

Although my vision was blocked , I could sense that he was sizing me up, taking very careful aim with that wicked paddle. My gluteal muscles began tightening in anticipation, even though I was totally inexperienced and really didn't know what to expect.

SMACK!!

"Owwwwww!" I screamed as that highly varnished maple paddle landed squarely across my exposed bottom-cheeks with a loud whack. I suddenly felt as if I had been stung by a thousand bees. My entire body jerked convulsively and for a moment I thought my knees would give out on me.

"Count the strokes!" he ordered. "And don't forget to thank me!"

Oh how could he humiliate me like that! "O-One!" I managed to stammer. "T-Thank you..."

WHACK! Once again that paddle was right on target.

"Ooooooohh!" I shrieked, my braided curls flying as my head jerked back. I couldn't believe it could burn and sting that much!

There was a pause, as if he were waiting for something.

"T-two," I finally remembered in a haze. "T-Thank you!"

"That's better," he told me, "Now if I have to wait for you again there will be some penalty smacks at the end and I'm sure you don't want those!"

"Oh please, Professor, I can't stand it!" I pleaded, tears starting to drip down my cheeks.

"You've been a naughty girl, Clarice, and this is the price you have to pay!" he spoke as if to a juvenile instead of a completely grown woman.

Before I could respond, he took careful aim with the paddle. THWAAAAACK!

"Yeow!" That solid piece of maple flattened my buttocks again, and for a moment felt as if it were going to go right through me. "T-Three," I stuttered. "T-Thank you!" My tears were beginning to blind me, and I was already completely convinced that I simply couldn't stand much more of this agony. "Stop, oh please, stop!" I wailed in a distraught voice.

"Keep your bottom in position, Clarice!" he instructed in a voice that displayed not the slightest sympathy for my suffering.

"WHACK! Once again that vicious paddle splatted noisily against my unprotected bottom. As the fresh jolt of pain shot through me, I rocked forward on my toes and back on my heels.

"Owwwwwwwwww!" I exclaimed. "F-Four!" I was no longer sure I could keep an accurate count, not to mention the humiliation of it all.

"Well?" he enquired.

"T-Thank you!" I struggled to get the words out. "Oh please, don't make me say that!"

SMACK! The next application seemed harder than the ones before but perhaps it was just my imagination.

"Owwww, Oh God!" I shrieked. "F-F-Five! Oh this is just dreadful. Oh T-Thank you! Please, wait a minute, please! I can't stand any more!"

"You're not nearly red enough yet, young lady!" he announced in a calm voice.

WHACK! His accuracy with that paddle was almost unbelievable. Once again my girlishly plump bottom-cheeks went momentarily flat under the force of that crisply applied paddle.

"Yeeeeow!" I squealed, my burning buttocks twitching and jerking reflexively. "Six!" I gasped although I wasn't sure that was right. "T-Thank you. Oh please wait awhile! I'm scalding hot! I'm burning...oh please!"

SMACK!

"Owwwwwwwww!" I yelled. I'm sure the whole neighbourhood could hear me by this time. "S-Seven! T-Thank you...please, sir, take time out for a while. Please, I'm begging you!" I feverishly rubbed my nyloned legs together in an effort to reduce some of that heat in my burning behind.

WHACK!

"Ooooooooohh!" I shrieked between loud sobs of pain and shame. "Eight...I think. Please don't make me count any more! I can't keep track. Please, oh this is awful!"

THWAAACK! Professor Harrison continued to wield the paddle in unmerciful fashion.

"Oooooooohhh! N-Nine. T-Thank you!" I managed although I was crying almost too hard to get the words out.

SMACK! With my tender bottom completely in flames, the final blows of the paddle were almost unbearable.

"Oooooooh! Ten. T-Thank you!" I was afraid that I was about to go into hysterics. My legs seemed almost too weak to support me, and I was starting to sag over the back of the chair.

WHACK! The paddle imparted more heat to my already blistering hot buttocks, and I was sure I was going to faint before too long.

"Owwwwww!" I screamed in anguish. "Please have mercy. E-Eleven...T-Thank you!"

"One more, Clarice!" he announced sternly.

SMACK! The final blow, the hardest of all, made me see stars!

"Owwwwww!" I screamed. "T-Twelve! Thank you! Oh no more, please. I'm burning up! Oh this is just dreadful!"

I breathed a deep sigh of relief as Professor Harrison placed the paddle back on the desk.

"Over to the corner, Miss!" he ordered, taking me firmly by the arm. "And hold that skirt right up so you are showing that nice red bottom of yours!"

Nearly tripping over my lowered panties and blinded by my tears, I was forcibly marched over to one corner of the study. There I stood, bare-bottomed and disgraced, while Professor Harrison lit a cigar and leaned back in an easy chair to thoroughly enjoy the scenery... I knew I would do anything to avoid another workout with that wicked paddle!

Not exactly politically correct behaviour on the Professor's part, but his student learned her lesson.
From Hermione's Heart

Monday, September 19, 2016

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for September 18

Our topic this week was improbable objects that might be used in spanking.

Bonnie: For me, it's those rotating ceiling fans. I imagine that if a sturdy coil spring could be added to the base of each blade and the fan were appropriately oriented, it could become a formidable spanking machine. I have to imagine that the high speed setting would be breathtaking.

Baxter: I also like looking at different items and wondering what it would feel like being used as a spanking implement. In my tool box is a wire brush which is a hard plastic and that might take your breath away. We were at a sheep and wool festival today and there are some big needles that are a couple feet long by an inch or so thick and I think those whacking a bare bottom would be good. We bought a gentlemen's dresser for me this past week and the one side can be a hanging closet if you take the shelves out. Anyway, the rung thing comes out and I handed to my wife and she immediately said maybe this would be a good spanking tool so I bent over and she whacked me hard and WOW, that was amazing. So yeah, looking at normal things and thinking spanko thoughts is normal for me and fun and my wife gets into it also.

Sir Wendel: If it can flip a pancake then it can spank a bottom. A section of hot wheels race track or plastic kids baseball bat looks like they would sting good. Mom paddled me several times with a plastic sand shovel when I was little. I’m sure it would make a very sore bottom now as well.

Liza: A lollipop.
 
Dr. Ken: I have a black plastic shoe-horn about two feet long that would pack a wallop....

Leigh: There's a bamboo back scratcher that I purchased in the dollar store that packs a mighty wallop.

Hermione: We have many wind turbines in the surrounding countryside, and I always think of those big blades as paddles.


Thank you all for your participation this week!
From Hermione's Heart

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #143

Welcome back, dear friends, to another weekend spanko brunch. Implements are always on my mind - I wonder why? - and so today I ask you to stretch your imaginations and look around you. Maybe go for a walk, take a drive, or wander through a store or shopping mall. Think outside the box, ignore the wooden spoons and fly swatters, and observe things that you wouldn't usually associate with spanking.

What do you see that looks like an implement, makes you think of spanking, or could possibly be used as a spanking implement?

This is just for fun, so the objects don't really have to be something you would actually use, due to size, location or other impediment. Go ahead; the more outlandish the better!

Once everyone has had a chance to ponder this question and come up with a suggestion, I will publish a summary of your discoveries.
From Hermione's Heart