The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (30)

My hand dropped away. He rocked gently back and forth until half his length was inside my salivating mouth. I suckled. “That’s enough for now, Ruby,” Mrs. Cleanknockers said. “Now put his cock in her.” I trembled a bit as I carefully fed the end of his cock into Louisa’s open mouth. “You are being punished Louisa. You know what that means.” She managed a nod. I could hear her take a deep breath. “Ruby,” Mrs. Cleanknockers next instructed. “Stand behind Mr. Steedstiff and push against his lower back.” I was puzzled but complied. I gasped, “Where did it go?”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

Flashback Friday: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can cook bacon”*

This week’s Flashback Friday was originally posted September, 15th 2009. The title came from a post the day before.

*For my Jewish readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can smoke lox”
*For my Muslim readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can roast lamb”
*For my Hindu readers: “I’m gonna whip your ass until I can fry nan”

“Beating up my inner feminist”

I suppose y’all think I’m a beaten down, trailer trash, crack smoking barefoot and pregnant whore for wanting to be whipped, but I ain’t. I blame my daddy – God rest his soul – for my peccadilloes: and don’t think for one cotton-pickin’ minute I don’t know what that word means. Daddy used to whup my ass every Sunday before church, just so’s I would pay attention to the preacher. Lord I miss my daddy. He raised me right, tried to beat the sass outta me – and failed – but I know he loved me. Told me to stay in school or else; the principal damn near wore out the paddle on my naughty butt and momma made sure I paid with blisters for every C I brought home.

Thing is, that’s what I want from a man, a real man that is. Not the lowlife cretins covered with sores and staggering drunk before noon. No, a blue-collar man: with grease under his fingernails, a hunting license and a big dick that I can suck until the cows come home. With a good job, a home and a 4×4 with a light bar and monster tires. Now that honey, is a real man and when he fingers his belt, and growls at my back talking, I don’t want a lecture, I don’t want reason, I don’t want some pansy assed college boy telling me how a lady should behave: I want a good whipping that makes my cheeks flaming red and my feminist snatch drippin’ wet and horny! There ain’t no real men left in this world. Too interested in spa treatments for crying out loud. The only crying in my house is when the leather meets the sassy, big-bottomed, feminist who needs a good spanking to put a smile on her face. So cowboy up and get busy with your little woman: she’ll be ever so grateful.

There was a brief silence and then gasps from her audience. “Oh! That is so nasty and dirty, Florence Lee! Bravo! That is your best story yet!”
“Why thank you kindly, Clara Sue. Do have some of my watercress and cheese canapé. Emma made them this morning.”
“Emma is a treasure, Florence Lee. Are you sure you can’t see your way clear to part with her?”
“Not on your life, Betty Jo. You keep away from my domestics if you know what’s good for you.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a threat.”
“I’ll mention to Jensen what you were up to last Saturday night, Betty Jo.”
“You wouldn’t you dare.”
“Watch me.”
“Now ladies. Simmer down. We’re all friends here and no need to be dragging our husbands into our… business. I for one don’t need a red bottom again.”
“Who are you kidding, Clara Sue! Bo Billing has spanking elbow from the amount of punishment you make him dish out. Tart!”
“Is that so, Florence Lee? This story of yours you read to us, it wouldn’t have anything to do with the new mechanic down at Pee-Wees? I did see you there yesterday on the way to Susan’s to have my hair done.”
“I thought so. What happened?”
“I forget my purse and since I couldn’t pay… I asked for credit.”
“And Mr. Blue Collar said?”
You’re lucky you’re not my woman, Mrs. Thompson. Trying to slide out from paying for a lube job deserves a dress up, bent over, stick your naughty bottom up high, panties down good old-fashioned switching with willow branches.
“I must take my car in tomorrow!”
“Me too! You can’t have all the fun, Florence Lee.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (29)

Mr. Steedstiff waited in front of Louisa. “Make him hard first, Ruby.” Mrs. Cleanknockers’ eyes gleamed in the gaslight. “How?” I asked. “Use your hand or your mouth. Whichever you prefer.” He thickened to my tentative touch. I wrapped around, his hand clasped mine and stroked back and forth. “Thank you, sir. Would you prefer my mouth?” He pressed down on the top of my scalp in an unmistakable request. I knelt once more and brought the cock to my lips. “Pretend it is a candy stick,” he said. “Do not use your teeth.” I drew the musky tip inside.

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

S.A.N.T.A.S. to the rescue

Alex was miserable. Lonely too. Despite the gut-wrenching turmoil Christmas carols wrought on her psyche, she couldn’t stop listening wallowing to them. An entire year had somehow slipped past since the disastrous dinner with Chad. Expecting a ring in her stocking, instead she’d gotten the old heave-ho and we can still be friends speech.
So here it was, Christmas Eve, and where once there would have been a festive tree, presents and friends toasting, now there were empty vodka bottles, pizza boxes and take-out containers. Alex was no longer a hot mess, just a mess.
The sonorous ding-dong of the doorbell jolted her awake. Hungover, bleary-eyed and feeling greasy from days without bathing, Alex stumbled to the front door, unlatched the chain, bolt and lock and recklessly turned the knob.
“Yeah? What do you want?”
“Are you Alex Powell?”
“Who wants to know?”
The man – although Alex wasn’t too sure that was accurate – held up a laminated badge to her bloodshot eyes.
“My name is Fohsallire Elotriskan – that’s what it sounded like – and I’m with Santas.”
Alex clung to the tilted entryway. “Funny, you don’t look like a Santa. Where’s your costume and hat?”
She muttered, “I told the landlord the apartment isn’t level.”
“Not Santas, S.A.N.T.A.S.: spankings accrued naughty transgression adjustment squad.”
All she could say was, “Huh?” before there was a flurry of sparkling multi-colored flakes around her face.
When she regained her senses, she was in her bed, the sheets were clean, her body didn’t reek and she was no longer wearing ratty sweats, but a lacy red negligee. She bolted upright and yelped when she saw the man with the iPad sitting on the end of the bed.
Amazingly, Alex’s head was clear and she felt great. “Who are you again?”
“I’m Forrester Erikson at your service.” He tapped the tablet and said, “You submitted a questionnaire on Santa’s website in which you described your current situation. The pathos moved the Big Guy – who knows why – so you were selected to receive the deluxe S.A.N.T.A.S. treatment. Is that clear enough for you, Alex?”
“Clear as mud, Gump. What the hell is a Santa treatment?”
“Very simple concept, my dear. If you would be so kind as to join me in your living room, I will show you.” He bowed and left.
Alex threw on a cashmere robe and hastened out of her bedroom. Her mouth dropped open in shock. The room was pristine. A large fir tree sat in one corner decorated with lights and ornaments. Presents spilled forth around the skirt. Candles flickered and the scent of cinnamon filled the apartment.
“You are hosting your annual holiday party in two hours, Alex. If this meets your requirements listed in your missive, then in order to claim it, you need only receive the S.A.N.T.A.S. treatment. If not…” He snapped his fingers and scene instantly reverted to the filthy, stinking room it once was.
Alex clutched her head and stomach as the hangover rushed back in.
The festive view returned as did her equilibrium.
“Do I need to demonstrate again?” Forrester asked with poised fingers.
“No! No, that’s fine, I get the point.” Alex slumped on the couch. “Do you mind explaining what it is you want from me?”
“Ah, we don’t want anything from you, we want to give you the gift of a do-over. All you need to do is sign the form and receive your gift. Then all of this,” he waved at the tree, “is yours.”
“And the gift is…?”
“A spanking of course, Alex, for all the transgressions you’ve accrued since Chad dumped you.”
Alex put her head in her hands. “I thought that’s what you said earlier.”
“It’s only a short spanking, Alex, one-time only.”
She crossed her arms. “And how long is the offer good for?”
Forrester grimaced. “About one more minute I’m afraid. I have several more stops, so a simple yes or no will suffice.”
“I can’t believe it got so bad,” she muttered. “OK, where do I sign?”
“Is that a yes, Alex?”
“Yes, it’s a yes, Forrester, yes to the spanking,” she snapped. “Do you have to be so smug about it?”
“Not smug, Alex, I take no pleasure in spanking I’ll have you know.”
“Well, maybe a little.”
She signed the tablet on all the appropriate pages and then, with bare bottom uppermost, lay over Forrester’s lap.
His iPad starting playing ‘Jingle Bells’. Over the soft pops of leather meeting flesh he explained, “There are ten carols on Alex’s playlist. I will spank you in time to the music. Feel free to sing along.”
Alex did indeed sing along to ‘Jingle Bells’, ‘We Three Kings’, ‘Little Drummer Boy’ and all the rest. Her constant – ouch, ouch, ouch – added a certain je ne sais quoi to the happy tunes as her bottom received the long overdue attention it deserved. By the time it was over, her bottom was a festive candy cane red from top to tip. Forrester provided her with a box of tissues and a copy of the contract sent to her email.
“Merry Christmas, Alex,” were his final words as he placed the leather paddle among the ornaments.
The party was a roaring success, her friends, if they noticed she couldn’t sit down, didn’t say anything about the short leather paddle hanging on the tree. Best of all, the gift from S.A.N.T.A.S. even included a brand new beau, who as it turned out, thought Alex would enjoy a good spanking on their first date as the clock ticked away into the New Year.
He was right and they lived happily ever after.

So that is the tale, boys and girls, of how Alex found herself over the knee of Forrester with the pointed ears, receiving her present for being naughty all year long.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (28)

The door opened. “Ah! Mr. Steedstiff. Right on time.” This was my first encounter with the gentleman who would oversee my training. I curtsied. Louisa was in no position to comply. Mrs. Cleanknockers introduced us. “Ruby, unbutton his falls and lift out his cock.” I blinked in astonishment. I yelped as the cane seared my backside. “Obey,” was all she said. I knelt and fumbled with the buttons. I could feel something alive behind the wool. I reached in and removed a real cock. It flopped heavily and twitched. I was mesmerized. “You will feed his cock to Louisa’s mouth.”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (27)

Louisa hissed as the horn slid up her bottom hole until the flared base snuggled betwixt her cheeks. Mrs. Cleanknockers then oiled the thicker horn. “This little beauty goes up her cunt. Isn’t that right Louisa?” She said, “Yes ma’am.” I saw her thighs flex as the ivory jabbed in tiny thrusts until only the tip penetrated. “For pleasure I like to tease. For punishment…” She rammed it home as Louisa cried out in protest. A hinged arm was locked in place: a wooden screw fit into a hole at the base of the dildo. It would not fall out.

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

Flashback Friday: Looking but not touching

A new feature I am going to highlight is Flashback Friday. This happens to be the very first post on Lurv Spanking from Sept. 6th, 2009. It’s about power exchange and the modern office. It stops before the actual spanking begins.

“An Office Thrashing”

One of curious characteristics of a spanko is the slow and somewhat creepy way the desire becomes an obsession. For Miles Franklin that desire used to be the usual blowjob under the desk by a hot secretary giving dictation but lately, that fantasy had added a dark twist. Whenever Sarah or Madison or Tiffenee or any other of the very hot, very under dressed and very married women on the 27th floor strode purposely past his corner office, the urge to leap out and grab her by the hair, drag her kicking and squealing face down on his desk and proceed to spank her until she moaned for more: his cock was rigid thinking about the designer wool skirt hiked up around her waist and the silk thong corded around squirming thighs. Sometimes the blowjob came first; sometimes afterwards, sometimes… it went right to fucking.
He sighed. That’s why the last untold numbers of relationships had foundered. No matter how adventurous the modern girl was in bed – very adventurous in fact – they all freaked out when he’d oh so politely broached the subject of spanking. Disgust, anger and threats of lawyers were the various responses. No girl, excuse me, no woman in her right mind ever wanted to be spanked. ‘Beaten? What are you? Some kind of pervert? What’s next? Schoolgirl outfit and whips? I am out of here… Jerk!’
“Mr. Franklin?”
“Yes, Joan?”
“A Mr. Stanmore to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment but he states it is very urgent.”
“Alright, send him in.”
Miles adjusted himself: one good thing about briefs, a hard cock could be shoved and bent easier than with boxers… or commando. A business smile graced his rather ordinary features and hands rested quietly on the leather blotter.
“Mr. Stanmore, sir.”
“Thank you, Joan. Pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat, Mr. Stanmore.”
“Please, call me George. I apologize for barging in on you unexpectedly, but I have some rather disturbing news for you.”
Miles raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “In what matter?”
George took a deep breath. “You know my wife… Ellen, she works here in Accounting.”
“Ellen Stanmore? I don’t recollect ever meeting her.”
“I’m sorry. I should have said Ellen McCrannock, she kept her family name when we got married three years ago. She’s rather headstrong that way… and… in other things.” George trailed off uncertainly.
“I’m puzzled now, George. I have no oversight over Accounting and have only seen your wife at company functions. As far as I know, we’ve never spoken beyond casual greetings. How is this my business?”
“Sir, I realize you are very busy but this can’t wait. Would you mind having your receptionist call Ellen and ask her come down to your office?”
Miles sat back in his chair, clearly confused, but George looked desperate and even a little scared, so he did as requested and the two men waited for ten minutes in awkward silence until Ellen knocked quietly on Miles’ door. They both rose and George went to greet his very surprised wife and escort her to his vacated chair. As she sat down and swiveled to look at her husband, he drew the blinds closed on all the windows and discreetly locked the door. Returning to his wife’s side, he said, “You might want to hold your calls.”
“What’s going on, George? Why am I here? I’ve never had anything to do with Mr. Franklin. I have work to do!”
“Ellen. Be quiet!” George pressed both hands firmly on his wife’s shoulders, pinning her in the chair. “I asked Mr. Franklin to meet you because of what we discussed last weekend.”
Ellen gasped in horror. “No! You can’t possibly mean that! I’ll never…”
The sound of a slap echoed in the room as George smacked his angry wife’s face. “I said, be quiet. You know what you did, you know the penalty and you know that I, not you, have the final say in the punishment. Not… one… more… word, or it will be doubled. Is that clear?”
Tears welled up in Ellen’s green eyes and her lips quivered as she gazed helplessly up at her stern husband. He shook her slightly and she broke out into open sobs of despair.
“Pftttt. You’d think she’d never been punished before the way she’s carrying on!” He glanced at Miles, “May I call you Miles? Thank you. Here’s the deal. Ellen broke the rules, her rules, not mine and due to… well, let’s just say ‘past indiscretions’ and leave it at that, she agreed that I would decide how, when and where she would be punished.”
Miles put his hands up and leaned away. “You can’t mean…”
“Yes, right here, right now.”
“Fine George… and Ellen… I’ll just leave and let you, er, get on with the punishment then.”
“No, Miles. I’d like you, no, I demand you punish my naughty wife.”
A simultaneous intake of outrage, fear and a good deal of excitement from Miles and Ellen. She shook her head and avoided any eye contact. Miles shook his head and felt his mouth hanging open in shock. “Bluh… bluh…”
“Let me explain Miles. Ellen and I have a D/D marriage that includes other people and other… things. Strictly consensual on both our parts of course and the reason I chose you is because Ellen wanted to be spanked by you.” She hunched over in mortification and hid behind her trembling hands. George gently stroked her brunette curls and continued. “She asked around the office and all the girls said emphatically that you’d never touched them or treated them with anything less than professional courtesy. Even when they sashayed past your office in tight miniskirts you never said anything, just undressed them with hungry eyes. There are quite a few spankos on this floor, but none of them have understanding husbands. You see Miles, nothing gets me hotter than watching another man – or woman – using and abusing my lovely wife. And she: she sheds her stuffy accountant attitude faster than her clothes when a tough guy yanks her chain.” He grabbed the back of her head and twisted Ellen’s face so she was staring at Miles. “Isn’t that right, slut?”
Miles saw the varied expressions flit across Ellen’s damp cheeks and the handprint George had left. Hunger and desire were the most prominent. He stood up, walked around the corner of his desk, then perched his buttocks on the edge in front of Ellen. George rolled her back slightly, still holding her firmly at the nape. Her eyes went straight to the bulge of Miles’ slacks. George hissed, “You like what you see?”
Ellen moaned deeply.
George opened his mouth to speak again but Miles cut him off sharply. “I’ll take care of this naughty girl George, you go have a seat on the couch. I think it’s time someone taught this tease it’s not nice to arouse a hard man.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (26)

“Ruby, open the drawer with the red tassel. Hand me the third dildo to the right.” I picked up the thick ivory horn. “Excellent. Now in the blue tassel drawer, I need the second from the right along with the glass vial.” This second ivory horn was tapered. “Notice the notch and flared base, Ruby.” I nodded and handed over the objects. “I want you to pay close attention, so that when you are in this position, Ruby, as you will be, you will understand what is expected from you.” She oiled the tapered horn. It pressed firmly inside Louisa.

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

Psychological Preparation for a Spanking

An important part of Dominance is the preparation for scenes. Not only the physical logistics of family, work and life in general, but by helping the submissive in their psychological preparation during the transition to a disciplinary mindset. I wrote a lengthy post called “A guide to giving Therapeutic Spankings for couples” that describes one way to deal with scheduled spankings.

But what about spontaneous spankings for fun and play? I offer three following scenarios, one with long buildup, one medium and one short. Obviously, your partner is willing and able to receive a spanking in the spirit it is delivered, and you both use words/phrases that are personally arousing. The identities have been changed to protect the innocent.

Long Scenario:

“Yes, dear?”
“Do you know what happens in two hours?”
“Hmmmm, a ball game?”
“No honey. You get a spanking in two hours.”
“But! Why?”
“You know what you did.”
“No I don’t know!”
“Really? Who was prancing around naked this morning?”
“But you told me to! That’s not fair!”
“Oh… so it’s my fault now.”
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“I see. Did I tell you to shake your tits? Bend over and spread your cheeks? Straddle the chair and play with yourself?”
“Well, no… I thought you liked it!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point! Sir.”
“The point is that if you are going to behave like a slutty little girl, then you’re going to be punished like one with a nice, long, hard, juicy, slutty bare bottomed spanking. Now go set the timer.”
“Yes, sir!”

Medium Scenario:

“I’ve gotta a hankerin’ for sumptin’ woman.”
“A beer? Pizza? Beef jerky?”
“Naw. Sumptin’ a bit more meaty and juicy.”
“You mean like steak?”
“More like rump roast.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me what that means.”
“I… can’t.”
“Say it…”
“I get spanked.”
“Good girl.”
“Right now?”
“Naw. Take a shower first.”
“Is that all, sir.”
“Nope. Get yerself nice and revved up, but don’t you dare come without my permission.”
“And after I’m all hot and bothered, sir?”
“Get in position for inspection.”
“On all fours, sir?”
“Rump nice and high, and you’d better be wet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll give you a seeing to in an hour. I’ll eat after you’re nice and tender red.”
“Thank you, sir.”

Short Scenario:

“Honey? Are you ready yet? We have to leave soon, the party starts in an hour!”
“Good! Then we have enough time.”
“You startled me! Let me straighten your tie.”
“Time for what?”
“Lift your dress up.”
“You heard me.”
“Now drop your panties to your knees.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bend over the back of the couch. If your panties fall you get the belt.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Count the paddle strokes. If you’re a good girl and take your spanking without a fuss, you can have your butt plug to hold in my sperm during the party.”
“Please, sir. I’m a very good girl.”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (25)

“As you can see, Ruby,” Mrs. Cleanknockers lectured, “the penitent is completely exposed for correction.” She lifted Louisa’s feet. One at a time she placed them on a thick adjustable peg. “I use canvas straps to secure the legs, then a longer strap goes over the waist and is buckled tightly to prevent a fall.” She moved to the front and continued trussing. “The arms are folded and wrapped down low. As you can see a female’s breasts dangle freely. The chin is propped on this padded support and a final strap goes over just below the shoulders. Safety first.”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 24)

I was uncharacteristically silent as a naked Louisa served me lunch. I offered her a wedge of cheese; she shook her head in negation. When we’d finished, she led me to the Gun Room. There was a cane on the outer hook. “That means a punishment session is ready,” Louisa said. She tapped on the door. When we entered, Mrs. Cleanknockers was rubbing a damp cloth over the large leather apparatus in the center of the room. Without prompting, Louisa handed over the cane, climbed a short step and straddled the saddle shaped padded horse. Her bottom mooned rudely up.

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (23)

Tears pricked and she said with a choked voice, “Yes m’lord, ‘tis clear.” He locked his papers in his desk, but before he left, Louisa had one more refinement to her humiliation. “I’m sorry Ruby. I have your clean uniform to wear while you eat.” She set the tray down, pulled her garment over her head and handed it to me. I drew it on, her body heat felt strange on my flesh. She stood at attention while His Lordship glared. SMACK. SMACK. Two handprints bloomed on her bottom. He gripped her neck and hissed, “Tonight you pay in full.”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (22)

I foolishly opened my mouth. “It was outside m’lord and it was dark.” No sooner had I finished my rash statement than I was upended over his raised knee and my sore bottom received a quick volley of hard spanks. He seized my cheeks – the facial ones – and said with a calm yet determined voice, “Never speak out of turn Ruby or I shall thrash you until you forget your name.” He shoved me away, not roughly, and turned his outrage on Louisa. “After Mrs. Cleanknockers deals with your punishment you will report to me after dinner. Is that clear?”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (21)

I firmed my chin and spoke forthrightly. “Yes m’lord. I dropped my chamber pot and splashed my uniform.” His Lordship’s head swiveled to Louisa. “Is this true?” Her eyes flicked to mine before she answered. “Yes m’lord, it is true.” She took a deep breath. “Ruby did indeed drop the pot because I pushed it out of her arms. Sir.” He crossed his arms and said with deep disapproval. “I suppose it was Emily that goaded you again.” There was no response other than a gnawed lip. “I will not tolerate pranks in my house as you are fully aware!”

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (20)

“My Lord, Mrs. Cleanknockers sent me.” My head spun like a poltergeist to see Louisa rise from a curtsy, covered tray in her hands. “That was kind of her; I am hungry.” Even from a distance I could see her gulp. “Pardon my lord, but this meal is for Ruby. I am to serve her.” I climbed off the ladder and moved closer. “Mrs. Cleanknockers states I am due punishment after lunch for this morning’s incident.” Lord Caneshard shrewdly glanced back and forth between us. “This incident Ruby, is it related to your nudity?” Louisa stared down at her shoes.

This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.

Home Spanking Party

“There is nothing quite as artistically pleasing as a bare bottom over a knee.”
“Don’t you mean aesthetically pleasing?” replied the wife from her upside down position.
There were nervous titters from the audience.
The husband said, “Either way my dear, this was your idea.”
“I know,” she sighed.
Her BFF called out, hand cupped to her mouth, “Come on baby! Give it to her! We want a show!”
There were ten other females in attendance who whooped and hollered in agreement while carefully holding their wine glasses.
The wife shot back, “Don’t get too cocky girls! You spill, you get spanked!” She’d hosted cosmetic parties, cookware, recipes, numerous crafting shows but it was during the sex toy party for Valentine’s Day when she’d let slip that her husband enjoyed spanking her. After a few… okay, three margaritas, she confessed she was the one who initially begged to be spanked. The girls… the drunk tipsy girls, all wanted to spank her for lying but somehow instead, she’d agreed to host another toy party for Christmas, this one all about spanking with implements. Thus she was currently cold sober, dressed… undressed in a black lace camisole and about to receive her husband’s hand across her defenseless bare posterior.
“If I may have your attention ladies,” her husband intoned in his best announcers voice. “Welcome to the Home Spanking Party. I am your humble host and this lovely young woman over my knees is my assistant for this demonstration. Please feel free to get up close and personal as I utilize the many items shown in the catalogue. Cash, checks and credit cards are accepted, however, there are stiff penalties for lack of funds.”
Again there were giggles and toasted glasses clinking. The room quieted as he raised his hand high.
The watchers all leaned forward in fascination as their friend’s bottom slowly took on a light pink tinge. The husband kept up a running commentary.
“Ladies, when spanking by hand, the goal is usually to warm the skin enough to allow heavier blows with an implement. Several minutes is normally sufficient at a rate of one per second alternating cheeks. Concentrate on the crests first and work down as you finish.” He paused to rub his wife’s skin. “Why don’t each of you come up and touch her bottom in order to judge the temperature.”
Her BFF jumped off the couch and was the first to stroke the warm skin. “Come on girls,” she warned, “everybody has to touch or you’re next in line for a spanking!” The rest of the women obeyed, some reluctantly, some eagerly.
The husband thanked them all. “Now, if you are only spanking by hand for punishment, then you should spank twice as fast and twice as hard. Ready dear?”
“I guess so,” his wife whined.
After a minute of hard hand spanking, the ladies could see a noticeable difference in the color. When they rubbed this time, the heat was very pleasing to the touch.
“Next up is the paddle,” her husband said and reached over his wife’s back to pick up three different styles. “The traditional paddle is wood, it can be hand sized for over-the-knee or longer for full swings in the bent over position. Leather is preferred by many spankos because it is more forgiving and less prone to bruising. Acrylic should be reserved for punishment sessions. I’ll start with ten with the wood, then fifteen with the leather and five with the acrylic. Then we’ll move on to the brushes.”
There was an awed silence as they watched her be firmly pummeled. By now they were all standing in a half circle around the couple. Some blushed at the rear view as the wife’s legs kicked and parted under each loud CRACK! Others were mesmerized by the many facial expressions offered. Most also felt a throb between their legs. After each type of paddle, the ladies stroked the bright red bottom of their friend. The bolder ones slipped fingers into the crease and pulled wider for a better look.
“The last implement is the hairbrush. I like to use this below her sit spots into the thigh crease. There are countless varieties, for the sake of brevity, I will use only one.”
“Thank you!” cried out his wife as she wiggled on his lap. “I hope y’all are having fun at my expense girls! Remember, payback’s a bitch!”
“No cursing dear or it’s corner time for you.”
“You put her in the corner?” yelled out several ladies.
“Yes dammit! He fucking does!”
“Alright naughty girl, after twenty with the hairbrush you’re going to spend some quality time with your nose in the corner!”
“Thus concludes the first portion of the show ladies,” her husband said as he finished her off with two very hard slaps of the brush.
There was loud applause and wolf whistles as the red bottomed wife was placed nose first into the corner. She sniffled and suffered while her friends fondled and pinched her sore cheeks. Her BFF whispered, “I had no idea spanking was so much fun! I think we should do this in private next time, just the two of us.”
Her husband then draped her over the back of the couch, her face in the cushions as he thoroughly demonstrated the larger paddles and long-handled brushes. With her legs spread shoulder width apart, she knew all her friends were getting a personal peep show of her wetness. The catcalls were constant as they egged her husband to add a little more color to her backside and when he brandished the cane as the pièce de résistance, the crowd went wild.
“Cane! Cane! Cane!” they chanted, most on their third glass of wine and more than a little wet themselves.
“Would you like to see some stripes on the solids?” her husband asked, his face a picture of innocence.
“YEEEEEEEEEEESSS!” they all screamed and jostled for a closer view.
“You heard them dear,” her husband said apologetically. “They want some nice welts to rub.”
He whipped the cane down with a hiss and a snap as it impacted. He waited as his wife shook her bottom to the delight of her audience who, caught up in the moment, threw dollar bills on her back and yelled, “Work it girl! Show us what you got!”
Five more times the cane hissed and snapped until six red welts showed against the dark brick bottom. After each lady had rubbed and pinched the cane lines, her husband ended the party by saying, “Ladies, I hope you have enjoyed the inaugural Home Spanking Party. The catalogue is available for ordering and if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my wife into the bedroom for some aftercare.”
There were many hoots and ribald suggestions. Her BFF laughed and said, “Make sure you use the wand! She loves that!”
All in all, it was a very pleasing party and all agreed it was worth repeating with a different model next time. Later that night, more than a few husbands were surprised by randy wives who demanded a good old-fashioned spanking for being naughty.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (19)

“You may call tomorrow afternoon if you remain amiable to claiming her training schedule.” The entire time His Lordship spoke I listened as my future was traded as if a marbled slab of beef. The phrase companion was not further defined, I knew not if I was to be a wife or a whore, and in short order Timothy took his leave. I mounted the ladder once more. Despite my troubled thoughts I was able to finish a shelf and a half in the allocated time before lunch. I was quite shocked at what transpired the rest of the day.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 18)

Evidently my acceptance pleased him for he said, “It would please me would you call me Timothy and allow me to address you as Ruby.” I blushed now at the courtesy: he cupped my check. “I shall strive to please you Timothy.” His Lordship cleared his throat at our affection. “Ruby is as yet untrained and will undergo much schooling before she is a suitable companion for you or any man. If you are indeed interested in young Ruby sir, then you may commit such funds needed to involve yourself in her curriculum.” He nodded decisively. “I do wish so.”

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 17)

His Lordship interrupted me. “Ruby! You were warned not to degrade and demean your desires.” I curtsied and bent over his desk. “Mr. Jones-Smyth, would you care to do the honors? Six with the cane shall suffice.” His blows were tentative and though they stung, he was clearly untutored in the esoteric art of discipline. When I rose to face him, to my surprise he seemed more embarrassed than I. I did not mock. “Thank you sir for punishing me. If you wish to practice further upon my person I shall not think less of you.” He smiled with relief.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 16)

I met his hazel eyes firmly. “I do not pretend to understand how a person of your means would seek a maid such as I, nude and punished in public.” He stepped back for another full-length view. “Does it bother you then Ruby?” I spared His Lordship a quick glance. “By the standards of society I am a woman of loose morals fit only for the streets despite having no choice but to submit to my betters.” I crossed my arms defiantly. “I have discovered Mr. Jones-Smyth that my nature is wanton and desires congress with both males and females.”

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 15)

Lord Caneshard performed introductions and Mr. Jones-Smyth thoroughly scrutinized me from head to feet as if I was a filly at Tattersalls. I did not flinch and managed a smile. He had questions for me about my family, my circumstances and to my surprise, my goals. “I would seek to be a wife and mother with a husband who loves me. I wish to be better read and to learn accounts. Perhaps even some small business of my own. I am told My Lord will provide me with such funds as to enable an independent life should I so choose.”

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Red Moon for a White Christmas

Serena Lansing rang up the last sale of the afternoon. Her co-workers had finished the clean up left behind by the frenzied last minute shoppers. For her sake, she wasn’t even supposed to be here on Christmas Eve, but the two scheduled managers had called out sick. Serena had been forced to cut short breakfast in bed with Josh and her two daughters, eight-year old Sara and six-year old Samantha. Her boss promised her a bonus but nothing could make up for the disappointment in her children’s eyes. They had planned to bake all morning then go to his parents for a holiday luncheon topped off by a movie marathon while waiting for Santa.

As she locked the store’s front door, she complained softly, “At this rate it will be after six before I get home.” She thanked the staff and wished them all a very Merry Christmas then balanced the day’s receipts and prepared the night deposit. She called security for an escort, set the alarm and met the guard at the mall entrance. The weary pack of fellow retailers exchanged wry smiles and a few horror stories then trooped en masse out into the cold air.

“Oh!” rang out from all directions. “It’s snowing!”

“Great,” Serena moaned, “just what I need to end a perfect day.” She waited until she was safe in her vehicle and called Josh. “Hi honey. Tired, but I’m okay. It’s snowing here. Really? That much? I’ll take it easy. I have to do the night drop first so I should be home in about forty minutes. How are the girls? Really? OK… Love you too. Bye.”

She rested her forehead on the steering wheel while the defroster cleared both windshields. She carefully drove through the giant parking lot to the local bank branch. A quick twist of the key, a tug of the cold handle and the cash bag slid down into the vault. Her phone chimed, ‘be safe c u soon luv u’.

Despite the thickly swirling snow in her headlights, there was still quite a bit of traffic on the slick roads. Families going to a movie or dinner: shopping at the still open stores. “Poor suckers,” she muttered as she passed a large box store with barely a space in the lot. She drove slowly but made it home in one piece, red and yellow twirling lights marked those not as fortunate. The inflatable lawn figures and twinkling lights of her home though finally brought a smile of relief as she pulled into the garage.

When she slid out of the SUV she noticed a note taped to the door into the house along with a box and large gift bag. She read the words: open the box first. Serena couldn’t help but giggle as she shook the wrapped package before she slid a nail through the tape and carefully removed the festive paper. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh! It’s beautiful!” Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted the crimson suede collar into the light. There was a folded note that read: ‘Put on the collar and then look in the bag’.

Serena set her purse on the step and buckled the leather around her neck. Memories of before the kids when they’d dabbled in kink flooded back. She had recently asked Josh if he was willing to try a Dominant/submissive relationship for three months: it was supposed to start on New Year’s obviously he couldn’t wait. She wondered about the girls for a moment then realized the house was silent. She peeped in the bag. It was empty. The note at the bottom said: ‘Strip naked and place your clothes in the bag then knock on the door Sassy’.

Serena gasped at seeing her play name in print. She felt her body tingle and tighten with anticipation. The garage was insulated but not fully heated and her flesh pimpled as she shed her clothing quickly. She knocked then shivered as she waited. The door remained closed for several minutes before finally it swung outwards.

She smelled cinnamon, brown sugar and apple spice. She felt a rush of warm air. She saw candles in the laundry room and kitchen. She heard jazz… and his voice.

“Do you submit to me Serena?”

Now that the moment was finally here she panicked. Before she could express any misgivings his hand covered her mouth.

“Do you submit to me? Sassy,” he said firmly but not unkindly.

She nodded and replied when his hand lifted, “Yes sir. I submit to you.”

“Walk slowly into the family room and wait for me with your hands behind your head.”

Serena was very cognizant of her nudity. After two children, she still felt awkward in her changed body. Between work and home, she never seemed to find the time to exercise and eat healthy. Her primary goal that drove her request for submission was to be held accountable for not meeting her goals.

“Serena. Do you agree to start our trial D/s period tonight?”

This time her ‘yes sir’ was swift and firm.

“Good.” Josh picked up an object and showed it to Serena. “To ensure our trial starts off with the correct mindset on both our parts, I will spank you by hand for five minutes followed by ten strokes of this paddle.” He sat down in the middle of the couch and said,” Sassy, lay down over my lap.”

She trembled with a mixture of fear, arousal and curiosity. She’d never been spanked before, never really thought about it, but after stumbling across a blog about Domestic Discipline, she spent an entire weekend reading and clicking link after link. There were many ways to proceed and she’d agreed to let Josh lead based on his own research with her feedback only allowed after the completion of whatever act he chose. She’d made a list of twenty things she wanted to try, two of them had just happened and the third was about to commence. It felt very strange and frightening to be draped over his knees, yet somehow, it felt like coming home.

so it was on a cold winter’s night
snow falling under moon so bright
children away to parent’s delight
festive carols while spanked with his might
her surprised cries as bottom once white
turned bright red as he held her so tight
such a hot burn did his hand ignite
twinkling colors bare skin was a sight
round leather paddle ten times did bite
when over she was very contrite
stern demeanor passions did excite
used her hard set orgasms alight
did pretty well for a neophyte
repeated daily until got right
now spanking fuels her appetite

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 14)

“Would be interested in a closer look?” I heard a chair scrape then a shiver pulsed through the ladder. I gasped and grabbed the shelf. “Easy girl,” Mr. Jones-Smyth said sharply. “I only wish to see you on the floor rather than the sky. Although, the view from down here is quite scenic.” My toes tapped the steps carefully as his hands slid up my legs, over my bottom and past my flanks to my shoulders. He spun me round gently; my eyes fell level with his clean-shaven chin. I’d noticed his curly chestnut hair. My breasts were inches away.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 13)

My cunt tingled and grew hot and tight. I leaned forward so my hard peaked nipples rubbed the wood step. “My Lord,” he said as he kept his hawk like gaze locked on my partially turned face, “I do not recall nude maids on any previous visits.” His Lordship twisted and looked up at me. “Ah, Ruby,” he said with obvious affection. “This is only her second day. It seems the harsher the discipline the harder she works.” He stood up, walked over the ladder, reached up and stroked my calf. “Mrs. Cleanknockers thought she fit the profile you submitted.”

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 12)

“It was my Lord. The mines are flourishing and I was able to acquire the leases to three more.” There was a rustle of papers. Perched on the upper portion of the ladder I stretched out to the last book on the shelf. I felt eyes on me and I peeped under my arm. The stranger was fixated on my bottom. I looked away and smiled naughtily. I placed both hands one rung lower and dipped my back as if to ease a kink. Another casual glance around. His mouth was slightly open but his expression was stern and foreboding.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 11)

I once saw an organ grinder with a monkey: a reminder as I scampered up and down the ladder. All I lacked was a prehensile tail: my red bottom certainly matched. To my surprise I was happy to bring cleanliness out of filth, my late mother had often punished me when I neglected my chores. Here at Peacock House, the promised sensual rewards drove me to perfection. “Ah, welcome Mr. Jones-Smyth. I trust your journey to Wales was productive?” My ears perked up. Was this the man Mrs. Cleanknockers had thought I suited admirably? I listened intently to the conversation.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 10)

Gentle Reader, I can attest that Lord Caneshard could also spank hard. My tender cheeks flared anew as the rapid cadence of palm beat on the surface. The smacking noise filled the study, my pitiful yelps drowned by the hard echoes. A final brutal flurry, his scolding grunts excited me. His hands pried me open, the cool air a balm on my flushed lips. I wiggled. His cock was rigid beneath me. He chuckled. “Not yet sweetness. Not yet.” He walloped me twice more for good measure then put me to work. Another shelf of books: another parade of visitors.

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The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 9)

He grunted absently absorbed in his ledgers. “Tis Ruby sir. I’m here for my discipline and cleaning duties.” He glanced up, a classic double take and rose to his feet. “I presume there is an explanation for your lack of attire?” I demurely clasped hands at my waist. “Mrs. Cleanknockers directed that I perform my duties here and in the Gun Room sans clothing sir.” Lord Caneshard fairly bounded over his desk to my side. “You are a right handful,” he declared then led me to an armless chair. “Over my knee girl.” I straddled his leg, red bottom uppermost.

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