The Other Side of the Hairbrush: Tales of women spanking women

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On the first day of my visit, we all hit it off great. Kate was very nice to me, and Denise and Kristie were a lot of fun to play with. Moreover, I thought Kate very pretty, and developed a crush on her almost immediately.

For the uninitiated, ‘maintenance spanking’ might sound like a bit of work around the house, but dear ones, it’s more akin to the upkeep of the dynamics in your love nest. Unlike other forms of impact play that are tied to misbehaviour, discipline, or sensual foreplay, maintenance spanking is a scheduled event; a routine, if you will, that serves to reinforce roles, remind of obligations, and let’s be honest, it can be rather titillating. Maintenance Spanking Why use Maintenance Spanking? For librarians and administrators, your personal account also provides access to institutional account management. Here you will find options to view and activate subscriptions, manage institutional settings and access options, access usage statistics, and more. This is a story version of one of the true real life spankings as told to me by a delightful lady who went to a Girls Grammer School and was kept in line at home by a slipper wielding mother, who used it on her daughters bare bottom… Often! Explain yourself. Right now” she said, crossing her arms. She flexed her jaw as she waited, trying to calm herself down. She wanted nothing more than to discipline the girl until her arm was tired, but she needed a minute to regain her composure.In the next few weeks, I saw Denise and Kristie get spanked during trips to the grocery store, the mall and the movie theatre, as well as the playground. Interestingly, neither of the girls seemed to feel any sense of embarrassment about it. They talked about their spankings very matter-of-factly, and did not think it unusual to be spanked in front of strangers. You’ll be sleeping on your stomach tonight, I’m sure” She said, wincing at Waverly’s pained expression. Waverly nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Soon her bottom was a lovely red, spreading down to her upper thigh. Mummy remembered the sit spot and how it stung, so delivered ten right across the point where her voluptuous cheeks joined her thighs. How they bounced, sinking in, then springing up instantly, and how she wriggled trying to pull free of the pain. But Mummy held her firmly, a tight grip around her waist holding the hand that tried to protect her. This annoyed Mummy, she was in mid flow! The frequency of a maintenance spanking depends entirely on the dynamics and agreement within your relationship. Some couples prefer a regular schedule, such as weekly or biweekly, while others might opt for monthly. The key is consistency and communication. The goal is to maintain the dynamic, so the frequency should reflect that aim without causing undue strain or discomfort in the relationship. As always, it should be consensual and enjoyable for both parties involved. Discuss this with your partner and find the best rhythm for your relationship. Men’s Feelings and Treatment of the Ritual

I don’t mind if you lose that, by the way” she said, handing it over. She was all too eager to get rid of the implement, even at the expense of her best friend’s ass. The door handle slipped in her sweaty palm, the door made a noise far too loud. Mummy sounded so joyous as she shouted, “Hello dear, had a good day? Come and give Mummy a hug, I need one today.”Mummy was a perfect product of the 1950’s. A dutiful housewife who had kept an excellent house since the day she married. Sadly her husband was no longer around, but stoically, with a stiff upper lip and a gallon of fortitude, she had carried on running the house, her home, with pride.

May I please sit up?” She asked shakily, hoping the answer was yes. Wynonna responded by helping lift her off her lap, keeping her steady on her feet. Waverly rubbed her bottom, pouting and whimpering. She could feel welts against her palm, spots she knew she’d be able to see the damage from tomorrow. For what seemed like the longest time, I stood there dumbfounded, staring at this diminutive but imperious female before me.

The following true story took place in the summer of 1984, when I was nine years old. My parents had divorced two years earlier. Since then, I had lived with my mom in New England, and had spent four weeks every summer with my dad at his home in Georgia. Karen took the note, her hand shaking slightly. She could feel the cheeks on her face flush. “No Mummy I do not have any homework tonight.” This is a work of fiction. Waverly and Wynonna are characters in a television show called Wynonna Earp, developed by Emily Andras and owned by Syfy. I claim no rights or ownership.