It’s been a while since we did one of these, the last one got kind of messed up in the move, but I think we’re all pretty settled now, so lets sit on the mat and listen to this little tale, then choose the option that most appeals.

You’ve woken up in a dark room. This doesn’t overly surprise you because you went to sleep in a dark room, or more precisely, a dark cell. The thin mattress you’re lying on has been specifically engineered to create maximum misery by reminding you that comfort exists somewhere in the world, but you’ve been denied it by a hair. Or rather, by a shitty budget mattress.

Your crime was a petty one, and, in your mind at least, a pretty one. Specifically, you spent last night quite literally painting the town red. It turns out however, that coating the windows of big box stores with finger painted versions of animals in a sort of cave-man display of art in a natural environment earns the ire of the law.
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People are complaining about the lack of updates in the last 24 hours. I’d beat them, but I can’t reach them, so instead, here is some mild entertainment. I don’t have any new stories today. Due to my recent deathly illness, I am waaayyy behind on work at the moment, so I need to get that stuff cleared away before I can post more stories. What I do have for you however, is a picture of the noodle soup I am eating for lunch! Noodly, noodly soup!

Also, this:

As the comments section grows to take on a life of its own (beware, it’s possible to lose jewelry and other valuables if one spends too long wandering about in there,) I decided to make some rules so people don’t look at me all surprised when they get their metaphorical bottoms smacked for one infraction or another. You can find them listed on their own separate rules page, and read them here. Like the rest of the universe, rules are subject to change.

Brats freakin’ love rules, so I’ve made some for Sappho’s Brats so you can tell whether your activities will elicit playful merriment or wailing and gnashing of teeth.

1. Love yourself. Literally.

2. If you decide to brat, put some effort into it. Nothing is more annoying than lazy bratting. Be creative. Paint a picture, record a song, graffiti subversive material on public monuments.

3. Type in full sentences. Nobody cares if you make a minor typo. But if you willfully start treating the place like Hannah Montana’s Digital Txt Orgy, then you can expect a smack down.

4.Don’t fake your own death. It’s been done.

5. Don’t freak out the other brats. This is a yippy skippy fun spanking site. People come here to escape the drudgery of reality. Don’t attempt to turn it into your own personal maudlin soap opera, unless you’re looking for a moderate to severe ass-kicking.

6.If you brat, expect to be dealt with. Don’t expect the way you’re dealt with to be pleasant. Expect to become a source of amusement for those dealing with you. Remember, tops enjoy the punishment just as much, if not more than, the bottoms enjoy the bratting.

7. Don’t brat North Korea. They have no sense of humor.

Okay, so this is my first post in like 5 days. I almost forgot how to write words. It’s a Bucket chapter, in which Loki is very well behaved and helpful.

Something was missing when Loki woke up. Something she’d been carrying for weeks. At first, she didn’t know what it was. For a while, she thought it might just be her ability to sit she was missing, as sitting was definitely out of the question. Her bottom was beyond sore, it ached with every breath she took.

The memory of being dragged over Callie’s lap and ruthlessly spanked until she could do nothing but cry quickly hit her through her sleep haze, followed by the stark contrast of the older woman’s comforting embrace and tragic story of how she came to be in the Bucket. Pain, pity and sadness rocketed through Loki before resolving themselves into a strange absence of feeling, a feeling Loki would later come to call ‘the numbness of the well behaved’.

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SPOILER: Don’t click unless you’ve already read the story and you don’t know what a jug is.
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Alyx wrote another installment of the Bucket, and it is fucking epic. Bring tissues.

As Callie lay on her bunk, the anguished sobbing ringing in her ears, she told herself she had no reason to feel regret. She’d been pushed beyond her limit – any sane person would agree with that. The brat had had her restricted to her cell for a whole day with a stranger! She’d made Callie, and everyone else, look like complete fools. Velda was right – Callie had been more than patient and where had it gotten her? Nothing but disrespect from the fish she was supposed to be looking after! Who could blame her for finally snapping?

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This is just a little update to explain the lack of updates. I have a cold. That alone might not sound like a big deal, and in the grand scheme of things it isn’t, but in my own personal little microcosm, it is wreaking havoc. It is ass virusified. It’s giving me a Fight Club kind of insomnia where I might have been asleep, but I was pretty sure I was awake and punching Brad Pitt in the face.

I also have a new puppy. He is eight weeks old, an English Staffordshire Bull Terrier and he doesn’t understand that he will one day be the ruff tuff dog in the family. So for the moment, he cries every time he isn’t either eating, sleeping, playing or being cuddled. He also has absolutely no concept of anything akin to being house broken, he just goes wherever the mood takes him (and it takes him often, sometimes up to three times in fifteen minutes), which isn’t surprising because he’s still so much of a baby that he can’t even run five steps without face planting and falling into a forward roll.

So basically, I can’t sleep and if I do sleep, there is a good chance a puppy will pee on me.

That’s why you’ll have to wait a little bit longer for more stories. (Or, better still harass Alyx for more stories. Yes. Harass her. She likes it. Or HAL, HAL is also a viable target.)

So I made this addition to the Bucket series. It is kind of long and kind of harsh. But, on the upside, it also has some quite epic mischief to inspire brats everywhere, (as long as they ignore the consequences.) In this installment we must ask ourselves not only about the prices brats pay when they are disciplined, but what price the top must pay in doing the discipline. *sage nod*

The worst of the best days started innocently enough with breakfast. Breakfast time was a good time at the Bucket. The first of the three meals, both Callie and Ermie looked forward to it in their own special ways. It was a rare morning where both of them didn’t wake early and spend an hour or more waiting for the cell doors to be unlocked, and when the doors finally did open, they quickly went their separate ways to breakfast, which was impressive when one considered that they were both going in the same direction.

“See you at the Iron Pile,” Callie reminded Ermie that fateful morning before they completely lost touch in the swarm towards the food.

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We’ve seen this before, but as the next e-book I’ve got planned is the finished version of Rebel Revelations, I thought it might be nice to revisit the first chapter.

Of course, regular readers will already be familiar with the first two books in the series, Rebel Princess and Rebel Priestess.

Pain. Darkness. More pain. The memories of the past year blended into one another in a great rushing wave of torment that finally broke on the soft smooth linen shores of Iskendar’s royal infirmary. Kai emerged with a coughing squeal from dark dreams of imprisonment to find herself not shackled on a filthy cold stone floor, but lying on what had to have been the softest bed in all the world.

She looked about herself in a daze, noting that things certainly had taken a turn up for the books. Instead of slime dripping walls and the howls of other prisoners, there were warm wooden walls lined with shelves upon which potions and poultices were stacked. It was so quiet too, peaceful, the only sounds being the cheerful chirping of the love bird in a wicker cage by the window, and beyond that the low hum of Iskendar’s citizenry going about their daily lives.

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Alyx has been busy again, yes she has! Aren’t we most fortunate that she has been so generous with her story telling time of late? Yes, yes we are.

Wash your hands and clean behind your ears bratlings, it’s time to visit the Bucket.

Who Needs The Board Of Education?

When Miss Mackenzie Rose decided to act up in the comments, I decided the only fit punishment was a little pictorial corner time. Of course, as one might expect, this idea was met with reluctance by Mackenzie. However being a good girl, Mackenzie agreed, and sent me this picture of her doing corner time. Notice any issues with it?

Of course, after a little more discussion, Mackenzie was persuaded to do her corner time as intended. Click to view Mackenzie in the corner, reconsidering her stance on trying to avoid consequences.

EDIT: But before you do that, allow me to take a moment to remind a certain Chicklet, who appears to be spreading the impression that she is above the law, encouraging others to misbehave and generally bratting with full force, that she has six more reports to hand in from the last time she acted up on SB, and I am seriously reconsidering the wisdom of any leniency I may have shown her in the past.
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