Vintage Sunday

18Nov18

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lurkers01Today is the 13th Love Our Lurkers Day, an initiative that has been running longer than this blog. What is it exactly?

Lurkers, anonymous readers, call them what you will. They are the people who read this blog on a regular or occasional basis, but never leave a comment. On LOL days, we encourage those people to be brave and leave a comment.

All comments on this blog are anonymous, you don’t have to give your real name (or indeed email address) please drop us a line to say hello.


Prussian Girls01Prussian Girls02Prussian Girls03Prussia was the largest country in what is now Germany, occupying the north of that territory with its capital in Berlin. I will spare you the history, but by reputation Prussian society was austere, militaristic and disciplinarian in outlook.

This attitude extended to the raising of women, particularly in the Junker (gentry) class who were expected to live by high standards and toe the line until they could be found an equally severe husband.

In truth the Prussian attitude could be found further East into Russia and most of the Czech countries where wife-spanking was practically a daily art form.

There is also little evidence that Prussian society was any less disciplinarian than their German cousins in Bavaria or other German states, but it is Prussia that gave its name to an attitude to discipline that prevailed in Europe from before the 17th century and right into the 20th.

The PN Dedeaux novel The Prussian Girls (as illustrated below by Hans Braun) cemented this reputation among spankos of course and for any that have read it you will know that this sexualised exploration often wanders into the extreme.

Prussian Girls Han BraunPrussian Girls Han Braun2

The Prussian Girls is about a girl’s school of the type featured in such German films as the 1931 Madchen in Uniform and other less well known films from that era.

Of course the true Junker maiden would not have gone to school and would have been under the iron hand of a governess or tutor.

No doubt situations varied from household to household but interesting accounts exist.

In 1836 one Prussian household, having exhausted a host of fashionable French governesses for being too soft, employed a Scottish one. The main argument for a British governess was to teach the ever more important English to girls of good breeding, but also it seems many English and especially Scottish educationalists were not so corporal punishment adverse.

So it was Elisabeth Campbell arrived at a large estate just outside Konigsberg to take up her post as tutor-governess and was surprised that the youngest of her charges was almost 17 and her sisters 19 and 20; conventionally too old for a governess in Britain.

By her account she was not above applying ‘a stout slipper to a girl’s naked behind’ and ‘should it be needful, denuding a girl entirely for a prolonged application of the (birch) rod.’ Nor was she opposed to giving a ‘fine old spanking’ to a girl of 20 or more, “Great giddy girls being more commonly apt to indulge in mischief and defiance,” as she explained.

What did surprise her was that a whole room was set aside for these corrections and in it she found ‘all manner of sticks, whips and straps for both the restraint and application to bare posteriors.’

Furthermore she was surprised by the strictness of the rules. At first she confesses, ‘one might think some restrictions petty in the extreme and certainly worthy of a sanction no more serious than a good scolding.’ But soon she seems to ‘go native’ and warm to her tasks.

Exact details are scant, but spanking seems to have been routine and a trip to ‘that room’ not at all uncommon.

Native Prussian governesses of the period seem to have even less scruple in ‘flogging a young woman senseless’ or ‘striping their tails until they could scarce sit for their meal times.’

To give one a true flavour one said, “A whipping that draws tears is essential, one that draws blood is sometimes necessary.”

These governesses would have come from good families themselves and would have suffered the same treatment so long as they lived at home.

A 1920s Berlin libertine said as a young girl her father would lay lines of welts across her bare bottom until she ‘sang.’ “No doubt he would do it now if he could see me,” she added with a wink.


Community

12Nov18

Another week and another hike in visitors, it is almost as if I never went away. Thank you everyone for your continued support.

I have haven’t forgotten the Prussian material, some here soon, although I use Prussian is the loosest sense here, looking at it some of it might be Bavarian from the same era.

Coming up this Friday we have Love Our Lurker’s Day, championed by Hermione, so head over to find out more.

Also new to the community are several new blogs and sites listed over at Bonnie’s.

Some great contributions from Firm Hand Spanking, found via Cutiepie, including a classic last chance to see Niiki Flynn, who retired again while we were on sabbatical, strapped with Amelia Jane Rutherford.

Yet more Amelia action from Dallas, also pictured above. Also, some old vintage shots from Devlin and Stan and old drawing found on the Spanking Blog.


Vintage Sunday

11Nov18

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sinclair22aOur story began here.

Alice was panting hard and desperate to keep her composure. Her bottom ached and burned and was well beyond sore. The cherry stain that had taken hold was a close match for her red-rimmed eyes which leaked copiously down her face. She was not quite bawling and had so far managed not to cry out beyond the occasional gasp or grunt.

The hairbrush, which had paused in Katherine’s hands, began yet another series of impacts and a whine escaped Alice’s throat.

“Not again,” she muttered and tried to suck it up.

“Oh again,” Katherine told her; she sounded almost angry, “And again, and again,” her words matched the spanks which continued at a pace.

“I… oh God,” Alice groaned, like so many before her, desperate for a form of words to making the spanking stop. From long experience on both sides of the hairbrush, she knew there were none.

Mary worked her mouth in wonder and glanced for the 10th time at the clock. It was more than 25 minutes and counting, she was amazed that Katherine could spank so hard and long.

“Please, oh please,” Alice said thickly, her words wet and slurred.

Katherine remembered the flick and raised her arm to its upmost and then flicked her wrist as it came down in a gravity assisted power swat.

Alice cried out in earnest for the first time.

“Getting there are we?” Katherine spanked again.

“Yes,” Alice answered in a strained wail, this time there was a sob.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten the cane?” Katherine reminded her.

Alice gaped in true woe; she had. Then she broke.

Katherine glanced at the clock; it was two minutes off the half hour: as good a time as any to end this.

“Remember, Elizabeth Sinclair was English and they have a long tradition of the cane,” Katherine knew from a conversation they once had that the cane was Alice’s bête noir.

Alice nodded, bawling like a child and scarcely aware that the spanking was over.

Katherine put the brush down and patted her mentor on the shoulder. “Take your time, you needed that,” she whispered.

Alice sobbed hard but managed another nod.

Katherine waited until Alice had half composed herself.

“There we go,” she said, “Now into the corner with you. We will let the hour go by at least before you are caned.”

Alice bowed her head and sniffed. It had been so long. Perhaps too long, she thought. She was beginning to regret also writing to Muriel Baxter confessing her smoking sins. No doubt once her old guide and teacher was done with her, Alice would have fond memories of this afternoon.

It was hard to stand and her bottom burned like a son of a gun. She was also a bit shaky, but that was not as bad as the embarrassment of being sent to the corner by one of her recent charges. She had surrendered herself until sunrise the next day and she would stand by that. Damn fool.

The corner accepted her penitent vigil as it might any naughty girl, even one who had once served in the navy.

“My goodness Katherine, her bottom is so red,” Mary said in a tone of awe.

These words were enough to bring on more tears in Alice, although she almost felt better. Talk about a good cry, she ruefully thought.

“It is isn’t it,” Katherine agreed, “Maybe she needs longer in the corner to think about the cane so that we can study the splendid effect of a spanking. After all, we still have so much to learn.”

Mary giggled at this and Katherine joined her. Alice had to contend with a red hot face as well as bottom. Oh well, I guess I have it coming, Alice thought.

*

It had a while since Alice had been confined to the corner and the incessant burn at her bottom had given away to a tender ache. The discomfort of standing for so long too was beginning to be the more irksome and even the embarrassment was being overshadowed by the boredom. Katherine has learned well, Alice thought with a rueful subdued pride.

Alice thought about the cane and her stomach did a somersault, maybe she should be careful before wanting her corner time to end.

The knock at the kitchen door startled everyone. Katherine turned to answer it but it opened unbidden and in a strained male voice said, “Where do you want this?”

Alice knew true horror then and her eyes became saucers as she froze in place facing the wall.

The young man who staggered in with the box of supplies looked desperate to put them down and finally fixed up on the kitchen table while Katherine fluttered like a bird and wondered what to do. Mary just gaped and hand to mouth stood watching events as one might a car crash.

The woman who followed him they had seen before. The comely brunette in her late 30s was from real estate office that was re-letting the house now they were all going. Katherine struggled to remember her name as she impotently tried to block the young man’s view of Alice’s semi-nude state.

“I had to come this was so I gave young Lionel a ride,” the woman was saying as she entered, “It is further than I remember perhaps some coffee…” If she was to say more it died on her lips.

At the same moment the realty saw Alice, so did Lionel and if Alice’s eyes were wide, his were out on stalks. “Oh…” he blurted.

“We were just… I mean, I am just taking care of some housekeeping,” Katherine managed a semblance of composure.

“So I see,” the woman still gaped, one glove was off her hand and held in the other as she was frozen in the cation of removing it.

“Did you say you wanted some coffee?” Mary put in and moved to do the necessary. She was beginning to see the funny side.

Alice, who had so far not move a muscle, definitely did not and wondered if it were possible to die of embarrassment.

“Y-yes if… if…” Amid her surprise the real estate agent struggled to find words.

“Ma’am?” the young man, no more than 19 was still dumbstruck and although not entirely unappreciative, he did not know where to look.

“Lionel, go wait in the car,” the woman said at last as she came to herself.

Lionel took one last look at Alice’s exposed sore bottom and hastily fled.

“Coffee,” Mary said again with a smile once he had gone.

The woman dropped into a kitchen chair and managed a relaxed smile of her own. “My, you are strict around here.”

“We are, aren’t we Miss… I mean Alice?” Katherine agreed.

“Oh yes,” Alice said through gritted teeth.

“As a matter of fact we were about to finish up here,” Katherine continued, “Perhaps you would care to watch.”

“To see how it is done,” the woman beamed. “I would love to. I could probably do with some tips, my daughter thinks she is too old for a spanking these days.”

“I assure you she is not Mrs…?” Katherine replied.

“Kendal, but call me Emma, Miss…?” the woman smiled pleasantly.

“Anders, but call me Katherine,” Katherine told her. “This is Mary.”

Mary smiled politely and tried for all she as worth not to laugh out loud.

“Well isn’t this cosy?” Alice sighed glumly from her penitent corner.

Katherine addressed herself to the cane on the kitchen table and rolled it between her fingers. “I w3as going to take things into the study but we can do it here,” she said. “Miss Bowman, please turn around and come bend over the back of the chair.” As she spoke she pulled a kitchen chair away from under the table.

“Yes Miss Anders,” Alice mumbled; every nerve in her body a jangle and she still had gotten over the shock of the boy seeing her like this.

Alice kept her breathing even and walked with all the dignity she could muster towards the chair.

“Miss Bowman,” Emma Kendal gasped as she recognised her lead tenant for the first time, “Are you the… I thought…?”

“This not a revolution I assure you,” Katherine told her, “But as you see no one here is too old for some sound discipline. Miss Bowman included.”

“So I see,” Emma exclaimed, but amid the shock a small smile twitched on her lips.

Alice sucked in her cheeks to form a pout but the very vivid blush ruined the effect somewhat. She was almost happy to hide her face as she folded herself over the back of the chair and took firm hold of the seat.

“Quite a job you have done there,” Emma whistled in appreciation, “And if I may say so Miss Bowman, you have a nice undercarriage, it is almost a pity to exclude Lionel from the show.”

Alice felt her ears melt and scowled into the leather padded seat. She prayed Katherine wouldn’t invite the boy back in, not considering what else might be on show with her ‘undercarriage’ as this darn woman styled it.

“Say thank you Mrs Kendal,” Katherine prompted the now thoroughly humiliated governess.

“Thank you Mrs Kendal, I am sure,” Alice said bitterly.

“Alright then,” Katherine said perkily, “Heels together and bottom out Miss Bowman; remember you are a Sinclair girl.”

Alice complied, hating the presence of an outsider for this. However, she had to admit that Katherine hadn’t planned this and had handled it with dignity given the circumstances.

“That’s it,” Katherine said in a clipped voice and tapped the cane across Alice tight proffered bottom.

It did not go unnoticed that Emma Kendal shifted excitedly in her seat as she watched.

Mary too hugged herself in expectation. Despite her reluctance to punish her friend and mentor there was a certain sense of schadenfreude, revenge even for the situation.

“Ready?” Katherine asked the shamed woman.

“No,” Alice wailed.

The cane hissed as it cut the air and landed with a sharp thwack across Alice’s bare bottom. The deep red was for a moment marked with a clean white line before that swelled a little slowly turned maroon.

It took a moment for Alice to take a breath, but once she did she let out an undignified squeal.

“How many strokes are you going to give her?” Mrs Kendal politely asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Katherine replied but most of her attention was on Alice’s bottom and her tongue protruded a little in concentration. Then she caned again.

Alice twisted a little as her bottom bobbed up and down. The sharp white line stung like a bitch as its pale gave way to purple-red, nor was she given much time to process the pain as another stroke landed almost at once.

There was more to follow and Alice quickly became laboured in her breathing. The cane was worse than she remembered, damn the girl for learning it so well. Nevertheless, the governess was proud of her former trainee, albeit for the moment grudgingly so.

“My God, you are raising ridges like worms on that bottom,” Emma Kendal said in a shocked tone of admiration, “Worse than any switching I got from grandma and back in those days I usually couldn’t sit down for a week after.”

“A switching, you mean country style? I do I hope I have rather more finesse than that,” Katherine let her irritation show. “Maybe you should be next.”

Alice was crying again, although her composure remained. But she took the exchange between Katherine and the realty agent as an opportunity to get her breath back.

Emma Kendal sat opened mouthed, her gaze swinging from Alice’s bottom to Katherine’s steely gaze and back again.

“After all you did barge in here without an invitation,” Katherine continued.

Emma swallowed hard and pointed at the supplies still in their box on the table. “The boy…” she mumbled.

“Lionel had a reason to come in and at least he knocked,” Katherine replied and hefted the cane in her hand as if considering something.

“But I…” It was Emma’s turn to blush and she began to stammer. “Look maybe I’ll come back when it is more… I’ll go,” She stood up.

Mary choked down a laugh as the woman all but ran for the door. “I don’t think she’ll be back,” she said.

“If we stick around too long I might invite her over on the pretext of discussing her daughter,” Katherine said with an evil grin.

Alice coughed. She had recomposed herself and felt very exposed bending over a chair with her bare and very sore bottom sticking up in the air

“Sorry Alice, where were we?” Katherine lined up for another stroke.

“I counted 15 or there about,” Alice said in a voice dripping with dread.

“About 15, you say? You don’t seem sure,” Katherine said thoughtfully, “Let us call it 12, that allows for another dozen,” adding, “A baker’s dozen I think.”

“Oh God,” Alice groaned and braced herself.

*

Alice winced as she chased the last mouthful of food around the plate. It was awkward standing at the dining room mantle to eat, but sitting at the table was completely out of the question for the moment.

At the table with Mary, Katherine eyed the vivid ‘scars’ that temporarily marred her mentors bare bottom and screwed up her face in sympathy. “That looks sore,” she said with a tone of regret.

“Don’t go soft on me now young lady,” Alice scolded her as she half-turned from her meal, “Or I shall spank you. I had it coming and you did just what the doctor ordered.”

Katherine half laughed and bit her lower lip. She wondered if she should remind Alice that until the following morning Alice was still under discipline and such impertinence could earn the governess another trip across her knee. No doubt Alice would appreciate the irony, but Katherine decided to let it go.

“What will Mrs Baxter say about you smoking when she gets the letter?” Mary asked.

Alice frowned and returned a childish pout. “It is not so much what she will say, but what she will do. If you think this is bad you should see what I am in for. I may not sit down for a month.”

“Then why…?” Mary gaped.

“I believe in standards and sometimes a girl needs a good spanking,” Alice sighed.

“And birching,” Mary chuckled, thinking back a few days and the faint traces still on her own bottom.

“And caning,” Katherine said huskily with a lick of her lips. She had enjoyed caning Alice and wished now she had been more severe.

“Then there is the good old paddle,” Mary offered ruefully.

“The Canadian prison strap is always fun,” Katherine said without conviction.

Mary looked horrified and shuddered.

“Yes, yes, I felt them all and probably will again after a refresher with Mrs Baxter,” Alice groaned.

“Do you… I mean… getting a spanking… do you sort of… like it?” Shy Mary was back.

“Do you?” Alice asked the girl.

Mary blushed and studied her plate for the answer. “Sometimes a little,” she confessed, “Just over the knee, I mean,” she added hastily. “The birch was beastly.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Katherine agreed, “But I think I may enjoy things from the other side rather more.”

“I guess,” Mary sounded uncertain, “But I want to give something back. I mean, I was so lost before and Miss Bowman I have to say this, thank you. You put me on the right track with an application of hairbrush right where it did the most good.”

“Here, here,” Katherine said toasting the all with a glass of water from the table. “Thank you.”

Alice turned, incongruously naked form the waist down, and raised her own glass. “No, thank you, I am so proud.”

“To a good sound spanking,” Mary said enthusiastically and stood up to raise her own glass.

“Bottoms up,” Katherine said before exploding into laughter, as did they all.

*

They were packed and ready, even Alice’s trunk with the canes and paddles. The cab would be there soon and then they would take one last ride together to the railways station.

“No doubt we will meet again,” Alice said with a dour smile.

“I am counting on it,” Katherine gushed, “You will be my mentor won’t you?”

Alice smiled more warmly and nodded. “But I warn you, you had better had been a saint when we next meet or someone is going right across my knee.”

“I am counting on that too,” Mary admitted with a shy smile.

Katherine frowned and gathered herself to ask something. “Alice, you never did answer Mary’s question?”

“Do I enjoy getting a spanking?” Alice went straight to the point.

Katherine nodded. Mary was listening intently now.

Alice looked thoughtful and looked off into the middle distance. Then she said, “I like the idea of it, I like the challenge of it, and once I have been spanked I feel clean, shiny and new. But at the time, when it is about to happen for real and certainly when I am getting it… oh no,” she winced.

“Yes I think I feel the same,” Katherine said wistfully.

“And what about giving a spanking?” Mary asked mischievously.

Alice glanced at her watch, “Do you think I have time to give Mary a spanking?” she asked Katherine.

Mary blushed and gaped at them.

“Oh I think so,” Katherine said in faux seriousness.

“Oh come on…” Mary backed away.

“I think my hairbrush is to hand,” Alice said crisply.

“Here use mine,” Katherine said with an evil grin and handed Alice her brush.

Alice took it and sat down on her trunk and patted her lap.

“Not here,” Mary exclaimed. “The driver will see when he comes.”

Alice shrugged and patted her lap again. “The house is locked up.”

“Please Miss Bowman I was only asking, I…” Mary protested all the way to Alice barely aware that she was surrendering herself.

As tipped over Alice’s lap her skirt proved lose enough to flip up and in quick succession her panties came down and she was bare-bottomed across Alice lap.

“This is the bitter end,” Mary wailed.

“Indeed,” Alice agreed and began to spank Mary’s bare bottom.

“You’re loving it,” Katherine teased, beside herself with glee.

“Ow, I’m not,” Mary wailed.

“Then I must be doing it wrong,” Alice chuckled and spanked harder and faster.

End

 


About time1About time2
It is already Thursday and I haven’t posted since Monday, you may have noticed. It is all a question of time. I hope to post The Sinclair Method later this week and then on with In the Service of the Wolf.

It is all about time really and that got me thinking about time and how attitudes change.

I saw the line drawings above, which originally from a New York exposé magazine from the 19th century. If I recall the article (which I could not find) it was about rough justice way out west. The article decried how the westerner was no respecter of women and that they could receive the same handling as the men if not worse. The picture depicts a quaint custom called riding the rail, a fate often reserved for con-artists, uppity outsiders and even anti-slavers.

Sometimes men like this were lynched, but to the women they were more merciful and were merely stripped naked and whipped. Riding the rail involved sitting a woman (and sometimes a man as pictured above) on a rail fence for some hours or made to ride a narrow pole or plank and run out of town.

Apparently a lady reporter from the East went to investigate and very nearly met the same fate herself. When she demanded justice from the local law officer he actually spanked her and put her on a train. Undeterred the woman snuck back into town. This time she was captured by a posse of townswomen and stripped naked and treated to a ‘good old-fashioned switching’ or two. She didn’t come back.

No doubt the town’s people thought it was fake news.

Nor did these things end with the 19th century. The cowboy above is demonstrating how they handled party girls, loose women, Sunday raiders (no idea what that is), liberals and hippies.

There are several westerns where the heroine is tied to a tree and switched or hung from her wrists. Perhaps an echo of this tradition, if one can call it that.

In 1970 a young lady reporter from New York went in search of answers.

For one ex-sheriff and his wife this was considered overkill.

“Damn if any women like that came to my town I would just turn them over my knee and spank their bare bottoms for them. If they needed a switching too then what is wrong with the barn or a woodshed. These aren’t bad kids, just a bit wayward.”

What about reporters? They were asked. One can’t help wondering if our intrepid reporter wasn’t a touch nervous at this point.

“Them too if they gave me too much sass or came on too nosey,” the old man told her. “For the girls anyway, I have my gun for these so called gentlemen of the press.”


Community

05Nov18

Not having a lot of time lately I am still doing things in haste. Not a good idea when you are communicating with people you don’t know. Even allowing for often absurdly insecure cadre of individuals drawn to this world, email is not a good medium and unless you write a very well-crafted approach or response it is so easy to offend.

So as it is I might have offended a few people lately, for which I am sorry. I am sorry too to the three or four people I owe emails to, but prefer to reply when I genuinely have time.

I have been cleaning up and refreshing the links on the right, some being dead or absurdly out of date and few new ones have been added.

There isn’t a lot to report in written content, click on a link for newer info on this. But the pictures above are just a quick cross-section from around this week and some link credits below. One picture above is in somewhat bad taste, but I had to do a double take when I saw it. Credit goes to the Spanking Blog for this find, you will probably know the one I mean.

There is a bit of a sorority theme going on this week, Richard Windsor’s paddle gang being not least. As he pointed out the girl not holding a paddle is holding her behind. Also another from the Spanking Blog, which features some stills from the 1980 exploitation movie Coed Fever.

I also include the last of the Halloween pictures, including one from Spanking Art 3D and Spanking Toons.

Others include Devlin O’Neil, Chicago Spanking Review and Asa Jones.


Vintage Sunday

04Nov18

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sinclair21Our story began here.

The packages had come in the morning post, one each addressed to Katherine and Mary.

Katherine read and reread the letter. She was a Sinclair Governess. There were other documents and a handbook, but she would look at that later. She knew that she would have to go to the mother house and meet Mrs Baxter and while there she would be under strict rules. But she would receive further training and supervise in-house students as a prelude to… she took a deep breath, it didn’t matter. She may never follow that path; she now had the confidence to face the world.

Mary was sitting properly for the first time in days and like the girl of old smiled dreamily as she read her own letter.

“It is odd isn’t it?” she said as she finally put the letter down.

Katherine made a quizzical face and waited for her friend to explain.

“We won’t be spanked again,” Mary tried the words out in her mouth and wondered if she liked the idea.

“Well not here I suppose, but… well we will always subject to discipline, certainly at the mother house we will be.” Katherine reminded her.

Mary weighed this up and then with a clatter and from a very great height the penny dropped. “Do you think Miss Eden… Alice I mean, do you think that she is still spanked?”

Katherine shrugged. She certainly ought to be, she thought. “About that…” she said with a sigh.

“You’re thinking about the smoking thing aren’t you? I don’t see what the fuss is about, not really. Alice is not our responsibility,” Mary didn’t want to think about it.

“No, you are right, in one way I suppose, but she hasn’t really talked to us for days and I think…” Katherine took a deep breath. “I think she needs a spanking to clear the air. I think that is what she was trying to tell us.”

Mary gaped. “I couldn’t, I just couldn’t,” she gasped.

“Oh I think I could,” Katherine said as she dug deep for some steel.

*

Katherine found Alice in the bay window seat reading a book.

“Katherine, are you pleased?”

“Yes of course,” the younger woman said. There was a hard uncomfortable pause.

“But you have something on your mind?” Alice closed the book and put it down.

Katherine nodded sadly and took a deep breath. “I am not sure where to begin,” she said.

Alice nodded. Her throat tightened and she shifted uncomfortably as if she knew what was coming.

“Tell me, what would you do if you caught a girl doing something unladylike and against the rules. Something like smoking perhaps?” Katherine asked.

“Is this a new girl finding her feet?” Alice replied. She sat up straight now and adopted a neutral expression.

“No,” Katherine said tersely.

“Would this be a first offence?” Alice swallowed hard.

“I doubt it,” Katherine said pointedly.

“So do I,” Alice agreed.

There was another long pause but it was Alice who broke eye contact first.

“I would make an example of her,” Alice said and looked up to meet Katherine’s gaze.

“Specifically?” Katherine growled.

“You tell me you’re the governess in this situation,” Alice countered.

Was this a test, Katherine thought and weighed up her options?

“You have a stout long-handled hairbrush,” Katherine said. It wasn’t a question. “Bring it to the kitchen.”

Alice frowned, “The kitchen…? Eh…I mean… yes miss.” She tried not to laugh and bit her lip somewhat nervously. None of this felt real and for the most part she dispassionately viewed Katherine and the situation as if this were a training exercise. Nonetheless her tummy was assailed by energetic butterflies that she had not felt since her last talk with Mrs Baxter.

*

By the time Alice returned to the kitchen with the large hairbrush a very determined looking Katherine and a rather miserable Mary were waiting for her. The older governess’s gaze was immediately drawn to the cane that had been laid on the kitchen table and she almost scolded Katherine for taking from her room. Just in time she bit her tongue and gulped down her apprehension. She hated being on the wrong end of the cane, she absolutely loathed it.

“I think you know why we are here,” Katherine said, sounding every bit like authority itself.

Alice all but gulped and managed a nod.

“Do you accept my authority today?” Katherine asked.

Alice drew in a deep breath, conscious now that she was blushing and Mary was watching her every move. “For this day and until the sun rises tomorrow,” she said, not really knowing why she had been so expansive.

“I am sorry I saw you smoking, really I am,” Katherine sounded like herself again, “I would have preferred…” she floundered.

Alice sighed and said, “The blame is mine, the error is mine… I failed you, not the other way around. I failed both of you… I… I’m sorry.”

“Very well,” Katherine found some steel again. “Remove your skirt and slip; in fact strip right down to your blouse, brassiere and stockings.”

Alice’s face was a mask but she took a deep breath and ignoring her blushes did as she was told.

“The panties too,” Katherine told the older woman once she had removed her skirt and stood in her stockinged feet.

Alice licked her lips and felt small tears prick at her eyes. “Okay then,” she muttered as she stooped to tug at her silk underwear and drew them over her thighs.

As she bent Mary and Katherine saw the older woman’s bare bottom for the first time and it was hard not to admire their governess’s film star figure. The impromptu mooning was all too brief as Alice quickly stepped from her panties and stood up to smooth the hem of her blouse down over exposed upper thighs and the dark triangle of hair between. Even then the lower curves of her bottom peeked from under the cotton hem.

“I fully intend to spank you and spank you soundly, right here in the kitchen where Mary can watch, and anyone else for that matter,” Katherine informed Alice, “But before that you will go stand in the corner with both hands neatly on top of your head and think about that.”

Alice started and made to protest. Of course Katherine was right but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Yes ma’am,” she whispered and mentally braced herself.

Then turning to face the corner opposite the kitchen door that led to the garden she walked as casually to it until her nose could be pressed into the seam where the two walls met. Then with cold deliberation she raised her arms and placed them elegantly on her head.

This last action lifted the hem of her blouse and once again fully exposed her bare bottom in all its vulnerability.

Behind her back Katherine relaxed and gaped at the scene:, she had done it. She turned in amazement to Mary who now far from miserable looked impressed. She was beginning to enjoy this too.

“Now stay there,” Katherine threw out, trying to sound stern again.

“Yes Ma’am,” Alice answered navy-style.

*

Katherine had been sitting at the kitchen table for almost an hour. The pages of the magazine turned before her eyes, but not one word had she read. All that while Alice had stood unmoving while light goose bumps peppered her thighs and her smooth white bottom tasted the morning air.

Every now and then Mary had fussed with something or other but most of her attention had been upon Alice’s bare bottom so starkly exposed in the corner.

Finally Katherine got to her feet and took up the hairbrush. She was nervous.

“I hope you have contemplated your sins Miss Eden,” she said,

“Yes ma’am,” Alice whispered; humility stung her eyes.

Behind her Katherine dragged a kitchen chair with a scrape across the floor and sat down. “Come here now,” she said to Alice, who startled suddenly.

The governess lowered her arms and then peeled herself from the corner. This was real then, she thought.

“Over my knee,” Katherine ordered and patted her lap.

Alice swallowed and then with reluctant steps crossed the room. There was some awkwardness as she stumbled across Katherine’s lap and the sensation of a woman’s thighs to hers was unfamiliar. So too was the touch of air on her bottom as her behind thrust up as two exposed domes.

“Ready?” Katherine asked as she patted the older woman’s bare bottom with the flat side of the brush..

“Yes ma’am,” Alice breathed.

There was a pause as the younger girl contemplated the bare bottom in her lap and then she struck with a firm satisfying thwack.

Alice gasped.

As ever the impact was more surprise than pain, like a red flower, the sting needed time to grow. Katherine gave it now time and swept the second spank down in a wide sweep that caught Alice on the under curves of her bottom. This time she felt it more keenly.

“I want this to last,” Katherine told Alice, “This is going to be a very long hard spanking.” She struck twice more.

The tight white curves of Alice’s bottom reddened up nicely and quickly too. Bright strawberry ovals quickly dominated the blonde’s tender curves and in quick order a dozen spanks had landed. By this time Alice was beginning to breathe heavily as if indulging in exercise.

“Are you feeling it Miss?” Katherine said with relish.

“Yessss,” Alice hissed.

“Good,” the younger woman shot back and added a short volley that made her sorry charge buck.

“Oh my,” Mary whispered.

“Should I go easy on her?” Katherine asked her friend.

A dumbstruck Mary could only shake her head.

Katherine grinned and picked up the pace, landing two dozen spanks in half as many seconds; each delivered with a full sweep of her arm. The noise of these impacts was terrific, but in short order Alice cried out loud enough to be heard over the thwack of wood on skin.

“So red,” Mary murmured.

“Oh yes,” Katherine agreed and warmed to her task. Then to Alice she snarled, “Will I catch you smoking again, will I? Will I?” With each word she spanked and hard.

“N-no, no,” Alice wailed, her cries now tinged with tears.

“Good girl, good…” she spanked extra hard, “girl.”

Between heavy breathing Alice sniffed and willed herself to retain some dignity.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed, “I won’t smoke again, I won’t…”

“Liar,” Katherine responded angrily and redoubled her efforts. “You’re an addict, all we ask is for some discretion, some self-control.”

The accusation struck home and Alice began to cry.

“Tears already,” Katherine teased, “And we have so far to go.”

Mary glanced at the kitchen clock. The spanking had been underway for almost 10 minutes now and she had a hunch it wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

To be continued




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