flash fiction – Page 7 – Spank Me Hard! … Please?

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (22)

December 17, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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?”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (21)

December 16, 2016lurvspanking3 Comments

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!”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (20)

December 15, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

“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.

Home Spanking Party

December 14, 2016January 25, 2017lurvspanking10 Comments

“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.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
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.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
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.”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
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!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
“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!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
“Alright naughty girl, after twenty with the hairbrush you’re going to spend some quality time with your nose in the corner!”
“Noooooooooo.”
SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES! SLAP! YES!
“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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 Part (19)

December 13, 2016lurvspanking10 Comments

“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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 18)

December 12, 2016lurvspanking16 Comments

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.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 17)

December 11, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 16)

December 10, 2016lurvspanking2 Comments

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.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 15)

December 9, 2016lurvspanking2 Comments

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.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 14)

December 6, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

“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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 13)

December 5, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 12)

December 4, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

“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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 11)

December 3, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 10)

December 2, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 9)

December 1, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

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.

Sir Fang and other biting tails

November 29, 2016April 15, 2017lurvspanking12 Comments

This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is Victorian and happens to be an era I am currently immersed in. There are several, three to be exact, story lines I am currently writing.

#1: My tribute serial novel The Bumhampton Chronicles is a send-up of sorts of the great Victorian Age of Erotica, where orifices were plundered and bottoms were whacked. The Venerable Lord Caneshard the Omnipresent of Lower Bumhampton, his housekeeper Mrs. Cleanknockers, his ward Miss Frothinglips and the mysterious Mr. Steedstiff all conspire to bring the virginal and virtuous Ruby Slapumcheecks to great heights of wicked, wanton pleasure. It is not intended to be factual either in place, the year 1865, nor in terms of language and dress and circumstances. The Bumhampton Chronicles is currently being posted as 100-word drabbles 4 to 5 times a week. Click the link above to scroll back to the beginning of the story.

#2: The short story The Bloody Merry Book Club was posted for Halloween 2016 and is a contemporary spanking story that was a one-off. As so often happens, the short story yielded a character who demanded a novel. The Bloody Merry Book Club has now become the prologue for a new novel called “The Case of the Scarlet Paddle” starring Sir Nachton MacRath, Peer of the Realm, immortal vampire, lover of many and anointed Chastiser for the Queen! Sir Fang, as someone dubbed him, is a Scottish Highlander Vampire Steampunk Regency Pirate who solves the coldest of cases for the Crown. Obviously tongue-in-cheek, but the novel itself has turned out to be rather serious. It, like the Bumhampton Chronicles, is set in Victorian England of 1865, but is an alternative universe where steam technology has led to airships and other advances. This novel will not be posted online.

#3: This novel has in turned spawned another Victorian novella set in 1854 when Sir Nachton MacRath has returned to England after being banished by the Regent 18 years before. The Steampunk aspect has just begun to gather steam, so to speak, and he finds himself being drawn to a mortal woman. The novella is for an unnamed as of yet Valentine’s Day anthology for the Paranormal Erotic Romance Lust anthology series. This prequel is filled with historical figures, lots of spankings and erotic play. It is scheduled to be released Jan, 11th 2017 on Amazon as an ebook. Check the PNR website for updates.

Purchase Lust in Lace on Amazon Kindle. Click picture to go to Amazon.

Sir Nachton MacRath pulled into the mews off Hill Street in Mayfair and cut the switch for the boiler. The new Avon steamer was fresh off the factory floor, his factory floor in fact, but that was more secret than his vampire status. The stable boys crowded around in admiration and he obliged them with a slew of technical specs. “If any of you have mechanical aptitude I know an agent who’s always in need of sharp young lads to learn the steam business.” MacRath slipped off his goggles and driving gloves. He sniffed and grimaced. “The Thames is a right cesspool this fine winter’s afternoon.” There was a chorus of agreements and inquiries as to when the Southwick Sewer Plant was to become operational. “Soon boys, very soon.” He assigned someone to watch over the carriage and strode briskly to the front door.

“Lord Flintdowns,” he said and handed his embossed card to the butler. “Lady Stanton is expecting me.”

“Yes my lord. If you will wait in the front parlor I will enquire if she is receiving.”

MacRath peered out the window. The sun was soon to set, the weather mild for late November of 1865. He never liked Her Majesty being involved in these cases, but a Royal command was not to be ignored. Even secluded in Windsor, her tentacles spread throughout the ton. He begrudged the time away from Lady Joyce. Her expertise, book learned to be sure, had been invaluable in the hunt for the mystery of the scarlet paddle. His lips curved in a half smile, half smirk. She had taken to his discipline like a duck to water.

“Lord Flintdowns,” a feminine voice called out, “thank you for answering so promptly.”

“Lady Stanton,” MacRath bowed and kissed her hand. “I will not say this is a pleasure, although your lovely countenance outshines the noonday sun.”

“La sir, you are quite the rogue,” Lady Stanton scolded and blushed.

“I am a slave to my nature m’lady.” He held a hand to his breast and touched his badge of office. The Three Lions with crossed cane and birch rod glowed in the last light of day. “If you may, reiterate the incident to me so that appropriate measures can be weighed.”

Lady Stanton pursed her lips, every inch the stern patrician matriarch. “My daughter Libby was seen in Hyde Park yesterday with a known rake despite my express forbiddance. She foisted off her maid and arranged the clandestine affair. Her father is aware, but has removed to White’s for the evening.”

“If it does not distress Lady Stanton, when you state Libby was seen, does that mean other than a public promenade?”

“I will be frank Lord Flintdowns as your reputation for discrete chastisement proceeds you. A single kiss on a darkened terrace during a rout is one thing, but a day dress stained with grass and bits of bark on the bustle, along with ripped petticoats is quite beyond the pale. I will not tolerate wanton behavior from any of my daughters.” Lady Stanton nostrils flared and her corseted bosom heaved like the tides as she fulminated.

“Thank you my Lady for the clarification. I indeed commiserate with your agitation. May I inquire as to Libby’s whereabouts at this time?”

“She is confined to my sitting room. I am sure you can see the impropriety in her being seen to in her own chambers.”

“Then I am to understand you will be present?”

Lady Stanton frowned. “Not only present my Lord, I will decide when the punishment is complete.”

“Yes my Lady.”

MacRath waited in the hall while Lady Stanton dismissed the maid and began to lecture her wayward daughter. There was much protest from Libby all to no avail. He was bade enter and got his first look at the miscreant. She was taller than her mother, slender with flame red hair piled carefully on her head. The deep navy dress was of the latest fashion. There was no doubt she recognized him for her face turned sallow and her eyes distraught. More entreaties ensued until Lady Stanton issued her ultimatum. “Either you accept your punishment from Her Majesty’s chastiser or you shall be confined to your room for the next six weeks. That brought silence at last along with tears. Lady Stanton said coldly, “Save your waterworks daughter. You will soon have a real reason to cry.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 7)

November 27, 2016November 27, 2016lurvspanking2 Comments

Tears pooled in my eyes as I washed and rinsed my soiled smock. I felt her hands on my hot skin, a cool salve rubbed deep. “I’m sorry Ruby for being so harsh,” Mrs. Cleanknockers whispered in my ear. “I know what actually happened and the true culprit. Rest assured I will deal with her in due time.” Her fingers strayed deeper. “Lean forward my sweet and spread your thighs.” Her fingers slipped inside, the scent of heated roses trickled down, my climax slammed up my spine. My head lolled back. My mouth enslaved by her lips. “Spank me more.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 5)

November 21, 2016lurvspanking2 Comments

“Yes ma’am,” was the only safe response. She touched my shoulder. “Stand up Ruby.” I stood, my shoes squeaked. “Step over the bench.” I obeyed. The far wall receded. I swayed; she steadied me. “Bend over and place your hands on the table.” As I did, Mrs. Cleanknockers spoke in a voice cold as an icicle, “Let this be a lesson to you all.” I felt the lash on my bottom, the fabric no protection against her fury. She whipped me hard for a minute, it seemed like an hour, then grabbed me by the collar and yanked me upright.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 4)

November 20, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

I squelched into the kitchen for breakfast, glared at Louisa and her smirking criminal compatriot Emily. I wondered why they were kept on: perhaps their bottoms were used for demonstrations. My backside was dry as I ruminated over breakfast. I was peripherally aware of Mrs. Cleanknockers conversing with Cook but concentrated on my porridge. Therefore, I jumped when her voice boomed loudly. “Ruby! Why is your uniform wet?” I swallowed hard. “I dropped my chamber pot outside ma’am.” The breathless silence was broken by sniggers. “Be quiet!” she bellowed. In the fraught tension I felt her presence hover. “Clumsy today?”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 3)

November 19, 2016lurvspanking2 Comments

A sibilant frustrated inarticulate whisper of hate was my only warning before the shadow struck. The chamber pot dashed to ground: contents splashed on my frock and shoes. Steps fled in haste, in the flash of light from opened door, a profile: Louisa. I was not surprised. Hazing was part and parcel of service life. If she, or any others thought to break me with childish pranks, they knew not my strength of character. The sun peeped over the distant elms, a bedraggled urchin caught in the unblinking eye. The nearby pump gushed cold water as I rinsed and squeezed.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 2)

November 18, 2016lurvspanking11 Comments

First light was not near when I awoke. Mouth dry, clothes stiff, neck cramped but oh, the smile on my countenance would have lit the morn’s dew had it been seen. The thin wool blanket was upon the floor as soon too were my feet. Weekly bath night was three days hence, no matter, my cleanse yesterday was still fresh: I filled the chamber pot with my piss. Brief cold water rinse and I trotted downstairs to dump my load. The bird’s arias filled the sweet air – perhaps to leeward reach – the latrines loomed nearer as did a slender shadow.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 3 (Part 1)

November 17, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

By dinnertime my first night at Peacock House, the rumors had swept through the staff as a wildfire that I was Mrs. Cleanknockers newest ‘Pet’. Evidently the near constant discipline and semi-nudity had jaded everyone to the point of indifference. The juicy beef was mush in my mouth, the creamy potatoes dry and crunchy bread stale. The chatter flowed around me as if I were a ghost: I felt bile rise. I was granted my excuse and fled to my attic room. I was weepy and lonely. Self-pity rose in darkling shroud and Morpheus dragged me under. Dreams were sweet.

Armistice Day

November 11, 2016November 11, 2016lurvspanking4 Comments

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in the year 1918 World War I came to an end with an armistice involving nearly all the warring parties. For Mrs. Jensen she felt the deadly chill thawing when she began to hope she’d see her husband again. For two long years she’d lived in dread of the Western Union boy. Refusing to read the papers or the periodicals, she’d even walked out of the cinema to avoid the patriotic newsreels.

Three weeks later, a letter from the Army, her husband had been discharged and would be home in two weeks. For her sanity, Mrs. Jenson did nothing different, not even mark the calendar. She honestly couldn’t remember the feel of his arms around her or even the deep penetration when they made love. The other things, those she recalled with clarity.

The chuff-chuff of the special troop train gradually quieted only to be replaced by loud cheers and the local brass band playing triumphant airs. The orderly crowd quickly broke into a frenzy of yells, tears and ecstatic families finally reunited. Craning her neck, Mrs. Jenson thought she saw her husband, but waited patiently away from the maddened crush. Then, he was holding her, his lips trembling as she wept happy tears of relief.

After dinner, a repast he likened to the finest ambrosia, he took her hand and led her to their bedroom. He poured out two years of horror, despair and brutality on her acquiescent body. She found, to her surprise, responding enthusiastically to his advances. Even trying things she’d refused to do before the war as being unladylike. There was one thing she needed however.

Before they slept from passion temporarily satiated, she retrieved his leather strop, hanging where he had left it and oiled regularly by Mrs. Jenson in his absence. She removed her nightgown, another first, and eagerly bent over the bolsters. Rising once more, her husband took her again as she moaned wantonly. There was no armistice in the Jenson household. The strop rose and fell harshly on her bottom, steadily turning two years of neglect into a flaming red rear.

When he finished, she was so aroused. Needing another go, she dropped to her knees. Only on her wedding night had she allowed him to put his male part in her mouth, but Mrs. Jenson was so hot, so aflame with lust, she had to succor him: taste her essence and draw him close, draining all his nightmares while awake. When he plunged back in, close to spending, she begged for him to use her mouth when he was ready. The cold they both had lived for two years was now hot as the viscous fluid pouring down her throat.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 2 (Part 23)

October 28, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

Gentle Reader: do not be alarmed. The description I am about to reveal was not gleaned in one visit but rather a compilation over my year at Peacock House. Contrary to the bestowed title, there were no guns stored inside: only instruments of discipline and for arousal. Interspersed with oils of hunting hounds and stately homes were canes, strops, paddles, chains and clamps hung from tarnished brass hooks. Other items as well, leather wrapped tubes, ivory horns, plugs of India rubber and other esoteric artifacts in chestnut cedar-lined drawers. Padded tables and chairs sat against walls papered with ancient Rome.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 2 (Part 22)

October 27, 2016lurvspankingLeave a comment

“There you are Ruby,” Mrs. Cleanknockers swept in with the force of a November gale. “His Lordship informs me he is finished using you today.” She drank a cup of tea and nibbled a scone while studying me thoughtfully. “The evening meal will be at eight. Until then…” She tapped her foot. “Come with me Ruby.” I followed dutifully in her formidable wake. Lifting a key on her chatelaine she unlocked the stout door I vaguely remembered from earlier. “I traditionally assign the Gun Room cleaning duties to the newest maid. I expect with your temperament you’ll be here often.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 2 (Part 21)

October 24, 2016lurvspanking3 Comments

“Thank you miss,” I murmured. “Do not thank me Ruby,” Miss Frothinglips said stiffly, “I will collect my due.” I shivered… not completely in fear. There were tea and pastries laid out in the kitchen: a steady rotation of maids came and went. Two of the footmen strode in: I blushed and hastily averted my gaze. Their trousers were buttoned down in the back, the open flap exposed red striped flesh. Emily and Louisa shuffled by, eyes downcast and skirts rucked up: their bottoms were bruised and scarlet. I gasped involuntarily. The narrowed sideways glances promised retribution at my clothed appearance.

Daddy’s Playboy March 1965

September 22, 2016lurvspanking11 Comments

A drabble of exactly 100 words.

Monthly Friday Flash based on the picture below

“What’s that honey?”

“It’s Daddy’s Playboy from March 1965. The issue when I learned I was attracted to women… and when you spanked me for stealing and sneaking into your bedroom.”

“I remember now. You were one unhappy young lady for the next month.”

“I never could decide which was worse; your hairbrush or his belt.”

“Are you ready to get your wife?”

“In a minute. I want to add the magazine.”

Mother and daughter closed the door leaving behind a Purple Heart, a Silver Star, the Playboy and a beloved father and husband in his satin lined oak coffin.

You may now spank the bride

September 19, 2009January 19, 2017lurvspanking7 Comments

In the year of our Lord 1273, marriage was for the nobility. The serfs, peasants and general workers who comprised the majority of the population were left to their own devices even if a priest was available. Various rituals existed in many cultures to bond two young people together for the sake of the children usually already on the way. In the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach however, there was a very different ritual performed on the rare occasion of Holy Matrimony betwixt and blushing maiden and an untried boy. Here in this place the bride was given away by the groom’s parents; the groom by the bride’s parents. [*If unavailable due to plague, war, malnutrition or general misfortune then appropriate substitutes would be arranged.]

Perhaps thrashed away would be a better term. The morning of the wedding, the respective parents* would arrive at the hovels of the soon-to-be-in-laws and request permission to enter. This was done simultaneously and the bride/groom would politely bade their new parents* to enter the dwelling. Once inside, what the parents* found would be a nude groom/bride standing next to wedding finery. This was done, the nudity, to ensure there were no malformations in the bodies of the engaged. For the bride, she was also subjected to a physical exam to insure an intact hymen [unless a certificate of prior breakage was notarized and signed by thirteen male witnesses] and proper function of mouth, nipples and anus. If satisfied, the bride’s new in-laws would then bathe her thoroughly but lovingly as a new daughter and dress her in preparation to join their household.

The groom was also inspected and his new mother-in-law would ensure he possessed a proper and suitable cock stand for their daughter being given away in the hovel down the lane. The foreskin was carefully washed and then the groom’s father-in-law would direct the groom in the proper manner to use a woman’s mouth and throat. After spending his large load in his mother-in-law’s mouth [he had abstained from solitary vice for a month] she would then solemnly reveal her vagina and anus to her son-in-law and give general instructions on the proper usage of both holes. He would be ordered to rigorously use all three orifices of their daughter that afternoon and into the early morning hours. Both were told to be ready to offer proofs the following day. The groom was then also bathed and clothed and the respective parties then left the hovels and made their way through the hamlet to the center green for the ceremony.

The procession wended its way past each dwelling and stopped in turn. For in the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach, the bride and groom were fully clothed, except for the opening in the back that framed the entire surface of the bare bottom. This bare bottom was given a single stroke with a willow cane at every hovel by the respective parents*. Thus by the time the moist-eyed bride and groom reached the green, they each sported thirty red stripes on formally pristine bottom cheeks. Once at the green, the bride and groom knelt side-by-side and leaned forward, thus prettily presenting themselves for further spanking.

The priest would begin the ceremony and when he asked who it was who gave away the bride, this was the cue for her new in-laws to strike her bottom hard with a thick leather strap created for this day. She received as many strokes as her age – thus providing a reason for parents to delay a daughter’s marriage – and after each one, she thanked God for her humbling chastisement. The groom received exactly the same, except his blows were delivered with a paddle also made special for the day. When the vows were exchanged, the parents* switched sides and implements and delivered ten spanks to their own children for the last time as single individuals. After the ring and the pronouncement by the priest of, “You may now spank the bride”, there was one last test for the painfully suffering and newly minted crying wife. Over her new husband’s knee she willingly went, he sitting on his sore bottom and with loving scrupulousness he used both the strap and paddle – gifts to the newlyweds – until he was completely satisfied the meaning of ‘Honor and Obey!’ had been imprinted on her swollen buttocks.

There of course was still the deflowering to occur and most couples at this point decided it was too far and too painful to walk to their new home and thus consummated their marriage right then on the green in front of the rapt inhabitants of the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach. She would bend over her scarlet ass reaching for the clouds and he with his rampant prick plunging hard into virgin womb, that pain unnoticed in the scorching flames as her husband’s torso spanked her over and over again until he flooded her no longer virgin vagina with his impregnating sperm for the first of many times in succession.

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