Lizzie Baines: a 1950s spanked wife (part two)

Janey cut a switch

Janey cut a switch

The Lizzie Baines story continues. If you missed yesterday’s first installment you may want to catch up here first.

The next day I noticed that Janey brought a pillow to the breakfast table and even then sat down very carefully with a wince. Her two sisters smirked at her discomfort as she blushed and Ma gave her a quick disapproving look.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“Yes.” Janey replied sullenly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“She wouldn’t be sitting down even with a pillow if she had dared to lie last night.” Amelia offered.

“You know all about lying don’t you Amelia Baines?” Janey hissed angrily. “I bet you can still taste the soap and are those marks gone yet?”

It was Amelia’s turn to blush and she went back to her food.

I was left wandering just how often punishments were handed out and how Amelia could take such satisfaction from Janey’s switching after apparently only recently being punished herself. But apart from the reappearance of the pillow at meal times for the next couple of days and the odd smirk from Amelia nothing more was said and it was soon forgotten. Forgotten by everyone but me that is.

The days passed and I soon fell into the routine of country life. None of the chores were arduous, but I had little time to myself and things became both a little oppressive and boring.

I asked how I might get into town and was told that Ma went once a week, but with only one car, joyriding was not allowed. I could always walk once my chores were done I was told, but it was an hour’s walk to town and I never seemed to have that much time to spare. I asked Mary what there was to do, she being closest to my age I thought we might become friends, but she just shrugged. In fact, my relationship with my sisters-in-law seemed polite but distant.

In my first month I got one trip into town with Ma to help with the groceries. It was nice enough and we had a soda. Although I would have preferred beer but Ma made it clear her views on alcohol before I had even asked.

“Its bad enough that the men drink on the porch but I won’t have it in my house and it’s not fit for women.” She said as we passed the bar, she had a look on her face like it was a sewer or something.

Then one day Ma went to visit one of her sons and I for once had no chores to do. She had only been gone an hour when a strange car pulled up just before noon.

“Good morning Ma’am can I interest you in pots, brushes and sundry household goods.” Asked the charming man who got out. He was in his early 30s asked tipped his hat.

I laughed, as he was a kind of New Yorker’s stereotype for a southern gentleman. After we talked for a while and he realised he would get no trade from me he made to go. I asked him if he might give me a lift into town and he said it would be his pleasure.

Once in town I decided that an ice cool glass of beer might be nice on a such hot summer’s day but the man, who’s name I no longer recall, said it would not do for a respectable lady to be seen drinking alone in a bar in the afternoon. I laughed and said he could always join me.

“I don’t mind if I do.” He smiled.

With hindsight my behaviour was risqué even for New York at that time of day, but at the time I was still feeling out of place and I was in a mood that you usually only find yourself when on holiday. So it was with a certain reckless innocence that Mrs Lizzie Baines sat and had a beer with a travelling salesman to which she had not been formally introduced.

The man asked if he could drop me anywhere else. He even suggested a nearby hotel that did great cocktails. The barman gave me a look that set alarm bells ringing and I declined, slowly realising I may have gotten in over my head.

“There ain’t no hotel within 50 miles except the one up the street.” The barman offered. “And they don’t do no cocktails.”

I thanked them both and left in haste without finishing my beer. I don’t know why, but I stopped at the store to buy mints. I drank all the time in New York, I was a grown woman, but I still did not want to offend Ma I supposed.

It was a long hot walk home and Ma was already preparing supper when I got there. I had a bit of a headache, what with the beer and the sun and Ma asked if I was all right. She also asked where I had been and I replied nowhere just for a walk.

“Some walk.” Janey offered sceptically.

But Ma seemed to accept that and went back to making the meal.

The next day Ma drove into town with Mary for her weekly shop and I was left to do some chores. I decided I had done enough chores so once they went I sat down with some coffee and read a magazine; glad to have some rare time to myself.

Less than an hour later Ma returned, which seemed a little soon, but I thought nothing of it. Then Mary came in to where I was sitting.

“Oh boy are you going to get it.” She said.

I don’t know what I thought would happen but I was more than ready to confront Ma, or so I thought.

“What’s up?” I asked not bothering to get up from my magazine.

“That’s the question isn’t it?” Ma said entering the room. “You done any of your chores yet?”

“No I?” I stopped seeing the look on Ma’s face.

“No. I thought not. Is it all magazines, booze and men in cars with you?” Ma was angry. “Are you or are you not married to my son? My son who is away at war, I might add.”

The penny dropped and I suddenly saw how it all looked.

“Oh that. Listen I am sorry it was all a huge misunderstanding I.” I stopped, I had no idea what I had been thinking and suddenly felt very guilty about George.

“When I asked you where you were yesterday, why did you lie?” Ma continued.

“I didn’t exactly lie, I.” I didn’t finish, I sort of did lie I realised.

“For George’s sake and because you never had any real family I am going to go easy on you this time, but you had better come with me now young lady.” Ma said in a voice that brooked no argument.

I followed her upstairs, more curious than anything. It crossed my mind that she might tell me to fetch a switch, not that I had any idea where to get one, and I was ready to tell Ma to go to hell. But all she said was that she and I had to have a little talk up in her sewing room.

I was ready to talk and even apologise, but I had to make it clear to her that things had to change as I was going out of my mind.

The sewing room was quite small and it was filled with all sorts of junk including a dressmaking dummy and singer sewing machine. The room also had its own balcony, which was strange for such a small room, and this is where she led me. The balcony was not large, it held only one armless chair and a ‘gentleman’s whisky table’. Ma sat down in the chair and reached for something in the pocket of her apron. I was wondering where I would sit when I was suddenly pulled across her lap and upended.

“What the?” I gasped as my skirts and slip were raised my panties went south.

I was held firmly and was pinned so tightly in place that I could not free myself. I was acutely aware that my bottom was completely bare and what was about to happen. I saw that what she had reached for was a large flat-backed hairbrush.

“You can’t do this, I am not a kid.” I wailed.

“I am going go easy on you and when I am done you can do your corner time in here. But if you ever go drinking, or getting in cars with strange men and neglect your chores then this conversation will happen downstairs with a switch. And as for lying, well I have something extra for you later.”

Then the spanking commenced. I had never felt anything like it in my life. My yells competed with the pistol shots of the hairbrush on my bare hiney.

I don’t know where the girls were, but if they were around there was no way that they couldn’t know what was happening. Not to mention that we were on an upstairs balcony, effectively outside and anyone near the house could also hear. But my embarrassment was soon overtaken by my desire for the spanking to stop. In fact after what seemed like hours and may have been 10 minutes I would have pleaded to walk naked through town if she would only stop.

I don’t know how long the spanking lasted, but I knew I would never again complain about George’s gentle hands. Eventually it stopped and I was left crying hard with great heaving sobs across Ma’s lap.

“First proper spanking?” Ma asked kindly.

I couldn’t speak but just nodded.

“I can’t say I mind giving it, but I’d rather you not need it. Never mind it’s all over now.” She soothed.

I wanted to hate the mad old woman, but I was far too grateful that she had stopped spanking me.

“Are you sorry?” She asked rubbing my still heaving shoulders.

I nodded and she helped me up.

“That corner now, no rubbing and leave your clothing how it is. If you move before I tell you then you’re back over my knee.” Ma said stern again. “Do you believe me?”

I nodded and hobbled over to the corner resisting the urge to rub. Ma spent most of the afternoon in the sewing room repairing clothes. She ignored me as I stood in the corner feeling like a fool but not daring to move or even speak. I don’t know how long I was there but the sun was quite low in the sky when she told me to go to my room.

I was grateful to be out of the corner. Once I was in my room I just lay face down on the bed and started cry again. I didn’t ask about dinner, I didn’t want any, but after I knew everyone had eaten she came to my room with a tray.

I was about to say that I wasn’t hungry when I noticed that the tray contained nothing but a bar of soap and a bowl.

“Sit up.” She said.

I winced as I moved, my hands going to my bottom.

“Alright kneel up.”

I did, completely resigned to whatever was going to happen next. I was still completely cowed by the spanking and I wasn’t planning on being disobedient for at least another decade.

She held the soap in my face and started scolding me about telling lies, saying it was the worst thing I could do.

“If you were one of my girls I would make you eat this for your supper. But I reckon you’ve been punished enough for your first time. But the girls don’t need to know I let you off. So I’ll bid you goodnight.” Ma spoke kindly as if what she was saying was the most natural thing in the world. Then he added a she left. “Lizzie, you are one of mine now and next time I won’t spare you.”

This last comment left me with a warm feeling I couldn’t explain. But my main feeling was that the world had gone mad and I had to get away. I didn’t want warm feelings and I certainly didn’t want a spanking. I started to cry again. I was sure that I could never look Ma or any of the family in the eye again.

A little while later I got up and examined my bottom in the full-length mirror in my room. It was painful to even move and I got a strange pleasure from prodding at the aching sore flesh to make it hurt a bit more. I gasped when I saw my behind, it was an even burgundy colour all over like two perfect ovals had been painted on; they stopped exactly where the cheeks met the thigh and up to just below where the cleft ends. I stood bending forward looking back at it over my shoulder with a strange fascination.

The next morning as I limped down to breakfast there was a pillow on my chair and the three girls were smirking away. Of course, they had heard. The pillow was no use; there was no way I could sit down.

“Stand behind your chair.” Ma said kindly. “It won’t be the first time in this house will it girls?”

All three girls joined me in blushing and Mary answered silently, mouthing the word ‘no’ with a far away look on her face.

Breakfast was an embarrassing experience, I felt exposed standing at the table while everyone else sat down. It was all I could do not to rub my still aching behind in front of everyone. I wanted to chat normally to hide my embarrassment and pretend that there was nothing out of the ordinary, but in the end, I stood as meek as a lamb looking down to my plate not daring to look anyone in the eye.

After breakfast, everything went back to normal as if nothing had happened. Well not quite everything. I noticed that the girls started talking to me as they did to each other and in no time I was drawn into their lives and realised how little I knew them. It was almost as if the spanking had been a kind of initiation into the family and I began to think that maybe it wasn’t so bad. After all, I had learned my lesson and I wasn’t going to be driving off with anymore travelling salesmen or drinking in bars.

It was almost a week before I could sit down comfortably again and another before the bruising completely disappeared. Every night I watch it fade away in my mirror before going to bed. As the marks faded and so did my resolve to leave and I could even pretend that the whole thing had been a dream.

The weeks passed into the Fall and I thought less and less about going and settled down to life with the Baines, after all I had to get used to the idea that I was one. The girls had started invited me out to places and I found out that there was quite a lot of social life after all.

Some of their friends had cars and we often slipped away to town for shopping and to grab a coffee or a soda, but I couldn’t look at the bar without blushing. We even got as far as Vicksburg a couple of times.

One of the guilty secrets the girls had in common was smoking. I thought it was funny that all girls tried to look as if they were relaxed about smoking but if they were anywhere public they used to hide the evidence in short order if anyone they think might tell their mothers happened to pass. I could not be persuaded to take up the habit prompting Janey tease me saying:

“Afraid of Ma?”

“Oh like your not?” One of her friends leapt to my defence. “I know if my mom finds out I smoke, well.” She blushed.

“Mama spank.” Mary said wryly.

The subject got changed quickly after that. I was confused, reassured and amused all at the same time by the brief insight into common theme of domestic discipline for the local young women, well beyond high school most of them. Perhaps Ma wasn’t so abnormal after all.

It was smoking that was to be Mary and Janey’s downfall. One evening after Ma had been to town for her shopping, she asked who had last used the car last. Mary had reminded her that she had run an errand only the day before and we had taken the car for a soda on the way back.

“So which of you do these belong to?” Ma asked placing a half empty packet of cigarettes on the table.

There was a long silence.

“They’re not mine.” Janey exclaimed in panic.

“I was in school.” Amelia added sounding equally scared.

I toyed with the idea of saying they were mine, thinking as a married woman, I could have smoked if wanted to. But then I remembered the soap conversation and decided against lying. Ma’s eyes were fixed on mine but I just shrugged.

“I think they must be mine.” Mary whispered.

“Anyone else?” Ma said in a dark voice.

“They weren’t smoked in the car, I haven’t seen them before.” I said truthfully with conviction. The girls never smoked in the car and I had not seen that particular packet before.

“That’s true.” Janey said, then added too hastily. “About the car I mean.”

“But you have seen the packet before?” Ma pressed.

“Yes Ma’am. I smoked one.” Janey admitted reluctantly.

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Mary and Janey stood in a corner each while Amelia sat grinning like an ape. Ma had a face like thunder and kept glaring at Amelia, for once not the least bit amused.

After dinner, while Amelia and I cleared away, the two miscreants got the dread order to go and cut a switch. When they returned they were told to remove their dresses and panties and return to the corner. Amelia was beside herself and I pretended to myself I wanted to be excused. I had seen Janey’s bare behind before but Mary’s was a revelation. I didn’t know that a woman could be so well endowed with hips and so, well frankly large in that area without being fat.

Amelia seemed to take forever putting away the dishes and I thought that odd if she wanted to ‘enjoy the show’. All the while, the girls were made to stand in their respective corners on show for us to see. Then I realised that Ma wanted to make an example and would not start until she had both of our undivided attentions. Amelia was quite literally delaying the agony.

Once she was ready Janey was summoned from the corner and placed as before over the arms of the stuffed armchair. The switching commenced at once and Janey’s reaction was much as it had been previously. Within a couple of minutes she was yelling her contrition and her bottom looked like she had sat on a stove. This time the switching went on for a long time and the raised welts on Janey’s behind began to merge and even looked like they might bleed.

At last the near hysterical Janey was returned to the corner and Mary was invited to take her place. It was both fascinating and disturbing watching Mary so exposed. She was after all only a year younger than myself. Also there was the almost obscene proportions of her behind. She seemed dignified enough as she submitted and I wondered if being the older of the two she would take it any better than her sister.

She didn’t. The switching was, if anything, worse than the first, she being regarded as more culpable. I must confess I couldn’t take my eyes of the squirming white behind as it was lined with dark purple ridges that spilled out to contaminate the surrounding white flesh with an ever growing red hue.

I tried to find some sympathy for her but the whole thing moved me strangely. I was a little ashamed of myself but that didn’t stop me joining Amelia in hanging around when Mary was returned to the corner for a good cry. The markings on both girls were magnificent, so different from the even maroon of my own spanking before. I blushed, what was I thinking?

They were both required to stand in place for the rest of the evening. I retired to bed shortly after they were released, I had no wish to compare notes with Amelia. It was too shameful.

It was standing room only at breakfast. Even the robust Janey declined a pillow and stood behind her chair. Mary’s reaction was much as mine had been and she stood subdued staring at her plate, struggling not to drop the food from her fork on its longer than usual journey. Janey on the other hand at least found the bravado to exchange a smirk with Amelia.

Later on that day I stopped by Mary’s room to return a book she had lent me. She said come in when I knocked but when I opened the door she was hovering nervously by the mirror holding her robe closed.

“I thought it was Amelia come to gloat, close the door.”

She let her robe fall and continued what she had been doing. Namely dabbing cream on her switch markings. I blushed and turned away.

“They’re beauties aren’t they?” She smiled. “Oh it’s alright, have a peek.”

I did. I noticed that unlike the night before the ridges had gone down leaving dark mauve stripes crossing bright red flesh. It looked very raw on the underside where the most strokes had fallen, no wonder she had stood for breakfast.

She hobbled over to the bed and easing herself down on one arm she stretched out naked on top.

“Don’t you mind?” I asked.

“Why should I? It’s over now and besides I had it coming.”

We talked for a while and after that I found myself perhaps one step closer to understanding the family and even feeling part of it.

To be continued.

3 Responses to “Lizzie Baines: a 1950s spanked wife (part two)”

  1. 1 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    Great continuation to the story. I guess there isn’t a part 3, is there?

    I’m highlighting this on Chross’ Spanking Scouts forum, telling everyone they should come here and read it!,1035,3397#msg-3397

  2. 2 DJ

    Thanks again Karl

    and yes there is a part three and probably a part four or even five eventually.

    The orignal files are a bit of a mess and some editing – so part three is soon – not sure after that yet though.

  3. 3 George

    Mothers like this one are badly needed.

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