Emma’s surrender


The bus was late, typical. The buses never ran on time when it was raining. It was particularly irksome to Emma because she wanted to get home and finish her book. It crossed her mind to read at the bus stop but the shelter was inadequate and the old woman who was also waiting kept looking at her as if she knew what she was thinking. Anyway, if her heroine was going to get a spanking then she wanted to be alone with her book when she got it. Not that she would, she blushed at the denial of what she wouldn’t do.

The old woman turned away and Emma thought about where the story had got to so far. It was rare in books aimed at women these days for the heroine to display any kind of submission to a man, least of all sexual submission. Even though the girl in the story had done everything to earn the man’s firm hand. Then it had happened, the hero had actually threatened to spank her. Would it actually happen in a post-modern novel? Emma couldn’t wait to find out, but it was raining and the bus was late.

By the time the bus arrived, she was wet through and she had to stand. It took an age to get home to her small single flat and by the time she did her clothes were fit for nothing but the wash. She put her book on top of the laundry basket in the bathroom and ran a bath.

As she stripped off she eyed the book expectantly. She knew she would be disappointed, but the rare hope was all she had. Emma caught sight of her pensive expression in the mirror. Her dark pixie cut hair revealed a still youthful face and she was still in good shape for 32, for any age really. Yet here she still was living alone with dreams of sinister men who might. The thought stuck at the word as her eyes fell on the bath brush. Why did she blush so? She was alone. She remembered once spanking herself with that brush experimentally, it had been unsatisfying. She turned to look at her bottom in the mirror; it was full and round, fully prominent from each angle. Spankable? Perhaps, but never spanked, except by herself. She sighed as she turned to the book. Was this all there was?

She slipped into the bath gasping at the heat. She had to kneel up at once and saw that the flesh halfway to her thighs that had been briefly submerged was very red. She lowered her bottom into the water and winced. As she lifted it, she saw that it too was red as if it had been spanked. She felt taught in the groin, why did she blush so? No wonder no real man would have her, she was such a girl.

She eased herself back into the water submerging herself in the pleasure of the heat. Then she took up the book.

It took an hour to finish and as she had already known there was no spanking. Her passion was as cold as the water about her.

It rained all that week. Each night she waited for the bus as she had the first night, all that was different was that now she had no book to fuel her fantasies.

It was Friday and at least she didn’t have to wait in the rain for the next two days. Perhaps she should play with the brush again. She blushed at the thought. The stern looking woman who waited with her scowled at her, Emma felt strangely light-headed at the perceived intimidation. She thought about the brush in the woman’s hands, crazy she needed a man.

Tonight was worse than usual the rain was harder and the broken shelter failed to keep out the heavy blasting downpour. The bus was nowhere to be seen. After 20 minutes, the woman left and started walking.

“Bloody London Transport, they must have cancelled the bus.” Was her parting remark, addressed at the bus shelter more than Emma?

Emma thought about walking, but it was far too far, if the bus didn’t come, she would have to find a taxi. Not that she could afford it. Twenty minutes later there was still no sign of the bus and Emma was transfixed with inertia.

“Oh bother.” She snapped stamping her foot impotently in a puddle. “You blooming foul weather. You shit shit shit shitty day.”

The car pulled to a stop in front of her and Emma blushed, had the driver seen her tantrum?

“Are you OK?” A well-spoken woman asked as she wound down the window of her expensive looking car.

“Eh yes OK, I’m just waiting for the bus.” Emma replied sheepishly.

“You’ll have a long wait.” The woman said sympathetically. “There has been a wildcat strike. There will be no more buses tonight. Hadn’t you realised that no one else has turned up?”

Emma blushed and then reblushed for blushing, embarrassed that it had not occurred to her to wonder and now she felt a fool.

“Can I take you somewhere?” The woman asked.

“No its OK I’ll.” Emma didn’t know what to say because she had no idea what she would do. “Find a taxi.”

“With a bus strike on and in the rain.” The woman said sceptically. “Don’t be a silly girl, get into the car and I’ll run you back to my place. We can call a cab from there and you can get dry.”

Emma looked desperately about her for a sign of rescue or a non-existent bus. The woman didn’t wait but opened the car door and ushered Emma inside.

The woman drove to a large detached house less than a mile away and parked under a covered driveway. Emma regarded her saviour sceptically as she was nervously led into the house. She was tall and blond with well-cut expensive clothes. Emma thought she was about 35, but with obvious access to the best grooming products might have been a little older.

Once inside it was the house that got her attention. The hallway was immaculate with a tasteful decor and object d’art. The floor had the same black and white Victorian tiles that her own hall had, only these were not chipped and discoloured. Emma relaxed a little; as she herself had no money, it was unlikely that this woman was some kind of con artist.

“How remiss of me, I am Mildred Hammond.” Mildred held out her hand expectantly.

“Oh Emma Graves.” Emma took the proffered hand.

“My girl you are soaking we must get you out of those things. Jenny.”

A small dark haired girl emerged from somewhere. She had a vaguely Mediterranean look that Emma had always envied.

“Jenny this is Miss Graves, please run our guest a bath and then fix us both drinks.” Mildred said turning back to Emma.

“Please that won’t be necessary if you could just call a taxi.” Emma protested.

“Nonsense.” Mildred said sternly taking Emma’s coat. “Come with me we will soon get you sorted out.”

Emma was led upstairs protesting all the way, but with each step, she seemed to have been divested of another item of clothing. By the time the reached the most fabulous bathroom Emma had ever seen she had been stripped to her bra and knickers with no idea how it had happened.

Jenny was mixing bubble bath and fine oils into the nearly full sunken bath and Emma’s resolve was rapidly waning.

“Come on now out of those wet things.” Mildred ordered.

“I would rather not.” Emma said meekly hugging her breasts.

“Don’t be silly or I shall get cross.” Mildred said firmly. “You can’t take a bath in your underwear can you.”

It suddenly seemed more embarrassing not to do what she was told so she hastily slipped off her bra and stepped out of her under pants. Mildred cast an admiring eye over naked body as Emma attempted to shield herself, then once Jenny had left she took refuge in the bath water.

The bath was fantastic and despite herself, she was completely disarmed, especially as Jenny reappeared with two gin and tonics. Mildred perched on a bathroom chair and began to talk charmingly about nothing. Before long it was if they were old friends and Jenny emerged with another gin.

“I shall get tipsy.” Emma giggled.

“That would be naughty.” Mildred smiled.

Emma felt a strange frisson at the word and a slight feeling of apprehension returned. Worse was to follow as Mildred made no sign of leaving as Emma was helped from the bath and her hostess began to towel her dry.

“You must stay to dinner.” Mildred decided.

“Oh I couldn’t put you out.” Emma began to protest.

“Nonsense I’ll get you a bath robe.”

Dinner was incredible, it was almost as if Emma had been expected. And always Jenny was on hand to pour another glass of wine.

“I tried to get you a taxi for later but the line is engaged and the only other cab company said it would be at least two hours before they could get you a taxi.” Mildred remarked during dinner. “We will try after dinner, there’s no hurry, you could always stay the night.”

“Oh I.” Emma didn’t know what to say to that and the wine was beginning to take affect.

They talked long into the night and Emma began to feel at ease, realising that her fine dinner and wine was a much better evening than she would have spent at home alone.

The room she was shown was like something out of Harpers and Queen, where the bedspread matched the curtains and even the carpet carried an echo of the room’s design theme.

It is hard to say what it was. Emma awoke and the world had changed in some small way. She had never had such a good night’s sleep. Even the rain had stopped and a warm fresh morning light was pouring into the room. She stretched like a cat at the hearth and yawned. It was too cosy to move.

Eventually Emma made her way downstairs. She still only had the bathrobe from the night before, but somehow being naked beneath a borrowed robe in a stranger’s house was sensual. It was then that she heard something. Perhaps she knew what it was because instead of confronting it she crept along the hall to a room towards the back of the house.

There was a sound like a pistol shot followed by a keening squeal. It couldn’t be what it sounds like, Emma thought, ashamed at the sudden rush of blood to her head and the little leap in the pit of her stomach.

“Will you ever do such a thing again?” She heard Mildred bark.

“Oh no madam I am sorry.” A young woman gasped in reply in a pain etched voice.

Emma realised then that she had not really heard Jenny speak the night before, could this be her? Was Mildred scolding her for some shortcoming and punctuating her remarked by clapping her hands? Emma knew that she wasn’t. This was all too surreal.

As Emma edged forward, she saw that it was Jenny, dressed only in a plain black woollen sweater and hold-up stockings, draped across Mildred’s lap. Her small but pert bare bottom was already well stained in deepest strawberry despite the girl’s complexion and tears had sprung to her eyes.

Mildred was holding a smooth black hairbrush and was applying it slowly but with some force. As Emma watched there was another impact.

“You know quite well to feed the cat and to put it out for the night.” Mildred scolded her maid.

“Yes yes, sorry madam.” Emma could see that Jenny presented a face that might have sucked on lemons and her big brown eyes were like pools overflowing down her cheeks.

Mildred glanced up.

“Good morning. Do come in.”

Emma stepped away from the door jam where she had been hiding, clasping her gown to her throat.

“I.” Her flushed face was at least as red as Jenny’s bottom.

“Just a bit of domestic discipline, nothing to worry about.” Mildred said breezily. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Eh no thank you.” Emma stuttered not taking her eyes from the poor girl’s bottom.

“It is rather late, you must have slept well.” Mildred said with a hint of disapproval that made Emma shudder. “Very well Jenny you may go and stand in the corner until you are needed.”

“Yes madam.” Jenny sniffed as she scurried still half naked to the corner of the room.

Mildred replaced the hairbrush on the mantle. Then she turned to Emma.

“Where you spying?” She asked.

“No I.” Emma’s blush revealed the lie.

“If you are interested then you should look boldly and not skulk.” Mildred said with conviction.

“Won’t eh Jenny mind?” Emma said nodding towards the bottom in the corner.

“It really doesn’t matter what Jenny thinks.” Mildred laughed. “A bit of humiliation is very good for her.”

“Isn’t she a bit old for, well that?” Emma tried to sound like she was having a normal conversation.

“Nonsense.” Mildred chuckled in a way that made Emma feel as if she had been patted on the head. “No young lady is too old for a good spanking.”

“Not even you?” Emma said boldly.

“Not even you.” Mildred replied.

Emma blushed again and could not help but avert her eyes.

“Tell me do you want to run screaming back to your little life or do you want to stay for lunch?”

Emma bristled at being so patronised, but she said nothing.

“I’ll take that to mean that you are staying.” Mildred sounded like her mother. “Come with me.”

Mildred led her by the arm back out into the hall and up the stairs. Emma was overtaken by the image that she was being taken by the ear to her own spanking. Instead of outrage, she felt wet. She could even hear it as she has was hastened up the stairs, could Mildred?

Emma was led into the master bedroom where Mildred threw open the wardrobe.

“Let us see what we have for you.”

Before she could say a word Mildred had whisked off the robe and stood regarding the cute naked pixie before her.

“Tight leggings and a mini dress I think.” Mildred said appraising Emma who stood cupping her sex with one hand and her breasts with the other. “But first we need a corset to make the most of that figure and those lovely but modest breasts.”

Over the next hour or more Mildred accepted no arguments as Emma was dressed up as a doll from head to foot. The corset-come-bask was dramatic and the leggings were so tight that they looked sprayed on. The mini dress was obscenely short and any bending would leave nothing to the imagination. After a little make-up Emma felt transformed. The only thing that marred the look was having to wear her own sensible shoes as Mildred had none that would fit.

“I have to get that naughty girl out of the corner to help with lunch. Why don’t you look over my library while you wait.” Mildred’s suggestion sounded more like an order.

The library was indeed impressive. It was mostly wall-to-wall leather bound first editions but then Emma found other books. Some of them had pictures of women being spanked. Mostly by other women but some had romantic looking men dishing it out. She had never dreamt there were such books and she flushed to look at them. Several of the books contained stories. In them, the heroine was spanked on nearly every page.

Emma could have moved into the library to live but all too soon, she was called to lunch.

Jenny, who had not been allowed to dress, moved around the table to serve lunch like a little mouse; a mouse with four bright red cheeks. Mildred was amused at Emma’s reaction and wondered if any part of it was envy.

“What did you think of my library?” She asked amused.

“It was very interesting.” Emma said non-commitally.

“Did you see the first editions, Dickens perhaps?” Mildred pressed.

“Eh yes very nice.” Emma lied.

“I don’t have any Dickens in the first edition, they would be priceless.” Mildred shrugged tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. “Perhaps you were more interested in my naughty books?”

“Um.” Emma did not know what to say.

“Why did you lie?”

Emma was decidedly uncomfortable now this was going too fast.

“Do you know what happens to liars in this house?”

“Look I don’t.”

“Come here.” Mildred ordered.

“This is silly.”

“Shush.” Mildred spoke as she might to a skittish horse. “Come here.”

Emma didn’t move so Mildred stood up and took her by the hand. She led her over to a leather covered ottoman sofa and sat down.

“You know what I am going to do now don’t you?”

“Look I am not gay.” Emma tried to explain, more to herself than Mildred.

“Nor am I.” Mildred reassured her. “But you need this don’t you?”

“Please.” Emma whispered. Please yes or please no?

Mildred drew the pixie haired girl across her knee and tugged up her short skirt. The leggings came down easily although it was hardly necessary.

Mildred patted Emma’s pert bare bottom, noting the way the hair between her legs stuck to her thighs.

“You naughty girl.” She breathed.

The first spank elicited a gasp from the newly submissive girl. Mildred watch the pink handprint form across both cheeks. Emma didn’t struggle.

Then the spanking began. The short sharp swats caused Emma to wriggle and emit little gasping squeaks. Mildred continued this until the bottom was dark pink and Emma’s breathing had become fast and loud. Then she stopped.

Emma wagged her bottom as if inviting more.

“Emma you have a choice now.” Mildred said projecting a serious tone. “You either get up and go home and never come back or you stay for the rest of the weekend and do anything I say. Anything.”

“Please I don’t understand.” Emma wailed.

“Yes you do.”

Emma began to cry.

“Go and stand in that corner.” Mildred ordered. “If when I come back you are still there then I know you have decided to stay.”

With that, Mildred stood up and dumped Emma unceremoniously on the floor and left the room.

For a while Emma lay moist on the floor and in state of confusion. Then panic gripped her. What if Mildred returned? She got up quickly and went to the nearest corner, hoping it was the right one. The skirt of her dress was still tucked up and her leggings were around her thighs, she left them in place as she put her nose in the corner as she had read in one of Mildred’s books.

As she stood, nose to the wall as she had seen Jenny stand that morning, her mind raced. What was she doing? How did this happen? Only yesterday she was at her dull job trying to forget the disappointment of how a third rate novel turned out. Now she was what, the character in a real adventure?

It was both embarrassing and exciting standing in the corner half naked with the sting of her first ever spanking still simmering on her bare bottom. I can leave anytime, she thought. Let’s see how this turns out, Emma decided.

Perhaps so as not to give her time to change her mind it was not long before Mildred returned.

“Good.” Mildred said. “As you have decided to stay we will play a little game. There is a serious purpose to this game, so I suggest you do not think about it but obey. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Emma said a little shaken still facing the corner.

“You will say yes madam.” Mildred chided.

Emma swallowed as if sensing this was a watershed moment.

“Yes madam.” She said at last.

“Good. Remove the leggings and come with me.”

Emma was led still half nude into the kitchen where Jenny still also half naked was waiting. On the floor was a bucket with two nailbrushes floating on top. Jenny was standing calmly, if a little nervously with her hands by her sides making no attempt to hide the thick black triangle on her lower belly. Emma blushed to see it and shyly shielded hers with her hands.

“For this task you will both scrub the kitchen floor on your hands and knees with the brushes provided. Half the floor has been allotted to you each. You have one hour. After you have finished, you will get up and ring the gong in the hall and take position with your nose against the wall next to it. If you have not completed this task within the allotted hour then you will both be punished. Otherwise only the girl who finishes last will be. Any questions?”

Emma was astounded at the humiliation on offer, why should she stay for this? She was about to protest and then remembered her earlier resolve, leave or go along with it for now.

“You may start.” Mildred made a motion like she was directing traffic and she did a two-armed point at the floor.

Jenny grabbed a brush and then dived for the corner and began to scrub vigorously. Emma followed more reluctantly.

“This is crazy.” She whispered to Jenny after Mildred had left.

Jenny didn’t reply she just applied herself to scrubbing the floor. It was then that Emma realised that she was in a race and losing had consequences.

Emma did her best but her total floor cleaning experience to date had consisted of five minutes with a mop on a floor one-tenth the size of this. It wasn’t long before her back and arms began to ache. Worse, it was obvious that Jenny was better at it than her. For a moment, she caught the younger girl’s eye, and Jenny returned a smug knowing look.

From time to time Mildred glanced into the kitchen from the doorway and was rewarded with the sight of two bare bottoms bobbing up and down as they went about their demeaning task. It was obvious Emma would lose, but she allowed the race to continue.

After 50 minutes Jenny was finished and jumped up and rang the gong. Emma was only three-quarters of the way through. She was still deciding whether or not to finish or join Jenny at the wall when Mildred returned.

“We have a winner.” She said. “Jenny you may go.”

Emma stood up and swallowed. She could leave. Then Mildred beckoned and Emma followed her into the cellar.

The main part of the cellar held wine racks, but there were three large rooms as well. In one, Emma could see washing machines and another tools and work benches. The third was more interesting and to Emma terrifying, it was a dungeon.

In one corner was a cage and against the wall, there was a rack of canes and whips and other implements. There was also an upright frame and some benches.

Emma was led to a trestle and directed to bend over it.

“Look I am not sure.” She began.

“It is alright. I am very sure.” Mildred said with confidence. “Do you stay or do you go?”

Emma’s mouth was dry.

“Will it hurt?”

“Of course, very much.”

“I have never.”

“I know.” Mildred said reassuringly. “But you have dreamed.”

“How did you know?”

Mildred shrugged. She didn’t know how she always knew. This time it was the bus stop in the rain. That was where he had found her.

Emma bent over the trestle and was given the challenge of holding on without being secured. It was quite a challenge too; Mildred lay on punishing the new girl hard.

Emma hadn’t expected this and although she clung on, she was soon howling as her up turned bottom was attacked with a taws.

“You can take much more.” Mildred said without sympathy. “And you will.”

By the time she was done, Emma lay sobbing over the padded trestle not daring to move.

“Alright go to the corner I will be back to play with you some more in a while. We have a long afternoon ahead.”

Emma did as she was told both fearful and excited. Just for today, she told herself. Well perhaps the weekend. Next week I will go back to my old life, she told herself. The thought depressed her.

Meanwhile Mildred picked up the phone in the study.

“Charles.” Her face lit up. “I think I have a new girl for you. Yes, that’s right. No, I am tempted, but this one needs a man, like me sometimes.”

The man on the other end gave her some instructions and then he hung up.

Mildred considered, should she break Emma slowly or fast. The floor scrubbing had been a gamble, but the girl was hungry for it. It was going to be a lovely weekend.


10 Responses to “Emma’s surrender”

  1. 1 opsimath

    What a marvellous story – and so very well told. Thank you – it’s not often we see this kind of quality in spanko fiction.

  2. What an amazing story.


  3. 3 Scunge

    Nice! Do hope there will be a sequel or a series.

  4. 4 paul1510

    DJ, great story, I also hope that there will be more.

  5. 5 DJ

    Hi All

    thanks for the positive response.

    I hadn’t planned on it being a series.

    Maybe I will give it some thought.


  6. Oh this one definitely needs to be followed through, so many possibilities; good storyline.


  7. 7 cindy

    I read the sequel first and then the original (not the recommended sequence I know) and loved both.

    Although being bound (leather restraints on wrists and ankles for example) has its merits, the young woman voluntarily holding on while positioned over the trestle to accept her punishment as in the story resonates a lot more for me. Sometimes the process of holding on itself helps you to endure the punishment–like in squeezing the top edge of the mattress when you’re on your tummy on the bed while getting the strap.

    Emma had more than one opportunity to leave. She didn’t. And i understand why.


    • 8 DJ

      Thank you Cindy,

      coming form one who is spanked that is a good bit of feedback.


  1. 1 Gigapascal
  2. 2 Spankings of the Week - chross.blogt.ch - Chross Guide To The Spanking Internet

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