The Spanking Breakfast
If you are a faithful reader of The Spanking Writers you already know Emma Jane; but I had not until today stopped by her blog, A Painful Awakening. Dilatory of me, I must confess. Here’s her account of a pleasant Saturday breakfast, some time ago:
After much sleep I rose from a fine ten hours of deep sleep in a very good mood indeed. I hadn’t intended to be mischievous at all but being condiment-ally challenged resulted in honey over the oak table, soon followed by me bare bottomed, over the oak table.
Forgetting it was HH dealing out the spanking I was semi-cheerfully answering back when the hand spanking got firmer and the voice got cross. It’s not allowed to be so disrespectful during a spanking, no matter how light or sticky the situation.
Breakfast finally concluded without much further ado until some ridiculous declaration of innocence from Abel had all us girls howling in laughter. He wasn’t too pleased to have us react so and over the table we all had to go, bottoms bared in a row; Catherine, Haron and I. And what a lively spanking ensued with a disgraceful amount of laughter and answering back.
After all that I found myself in a far more mischievous mood. I wanted trouble! But not for me, I still felt quite played out from the night before. But I was sure Catherine could handle a bit more beating. As Indy would say I then then threw her under a bus by remarking that she hadn’t got that switching that was proposed, had she? Of course HH doesn’t need much encouragement and duly fetched said switch as we all trooped upstairs to watch the show.
Now it’s very unusual for me to witness someone playing and not want to join in, but this was such an occasion. I was very happy to watch as HH beat Catherine mercilessly with the switch. Happy to to watch her dance and wriggle away from him as he beat her more, to laugh as he chased her round the room still whacking away and to sigh as he eventually restrained her and whipped her til tiny bits of the switch scattered across the room and she was properly complaining.
Poor girl wasn’t allowed be done with yet though. It was then Abel’s turn with the dragon cane and the strokes rained down smartly until at least two dozen were delivered. Our girl was almost done. But I wasn’t finished with my bus throwing.
Gently remarking that she hadn’t nearly as much trouble as me on the wooden pony the night before I wondered how she might find it on the second time of asking? The love in her eyes for me at that moment was very special to behold. And when they had her strung up on the pony, with the board raised much higher than previously, I almost felt bad as she cried and pleaded for mercy. Almost.
It was a very floaty girl who was finally released into many waiting hugs.
