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


Our story began here.

The next day Amelia did not move easily and sat not at all. I came down to breakfast in time to see her failed attempt at taking her place for the meal. She had been easing herself down on one hip but leaped up again clutching at her bottom.

“Tender I don’t wonder.” Ma said unsympathetically.

After breakfast, Ma sent Amelia off on an errand and I managed to feel sorry for her as she took slow painful steps towards the neighbour’s house. I knew she would take two or three times as long on this task and wondered at Ma’s reasoning.

It was to become clear all too soon. Once Amelia was out of earshot, she sat Cindy, Mary and I down with a tone that brooked no argument.

“Now my three fine young ladies.” Ma pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me about Amelia’s antics?”

Mary and I looked to Cindy for leadership but she just sat and fiddled with the sugar bowl that had been left at the table and tried to swallow a smirk.

“Ma we thought that Amelia had been punished enough because we…” Mary said at last.

“If that’s the case why not say?” Ma cut her off.

Mary looked down defeated.

“You thought you would have a bit of mischief of your own no doubt.” Ma said angrily. “Well?”

“Suppose.” Cindy conceded.

“I thought…” I was dumbstruck; it hadn’t been my idea now was in bad odour with Ma.

“No Lizzie you didn’t did you?” Ma said sadly.

I hadn’t. Or rather, I had and Ma was right it had all been something of a prank on our part.

“Alright two switches each and quick about it or we’ll take this to the turnpike.” Ma said folding her arms.

“Ma please…” Mary began to remonstrate.

“Yes Ma.” Cindy took her sister’s arm gently to silence her.

“I didn’t know.” I wailed.

Cindy took us both by the arm and with a rueful smile said, “girls make up your mind to it, we are going to get a licking. It ain’t like we don’t have it coming now is it?”

Ma’s expression relented a little at Cindy’s attitude and the faint trace of an indulgent smile touched the corners of her mouth.

The three of us went out arm-in-arm to the hickory trees as if we didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted to get it over with, but Cindy made us take our time as she inspected our switches and compared each of them.

“We have a duty to our bottoms to offer them only the best.” She joshed.

“How can you be so calm?” Mary pouted. “We won’t sit down for days.”

I was with Mary on this, but Cindy seemed to have abundant bravado. Although her courage wavered a little by the time we returned with the switches, but it made no odds to Ma anyway.

This three-way punishment was new to me and I half expected us to be taken to the porch. If I expect a certain ritual I was disappointed, but I cannot swear as to exactly what happened next as it went too quickly.

Ma grabbed the nearest of us, Mary in this instance, and upended her over her knee. From there, her bottom was quickly denuded as we looked on with a mix of pleasure and trepidation.

Ma spanked Mary for a good ten minutes with the flat of her hand, all the while challenging her to dispute the justice of the thing.

“You knew you were doing wrong didn’t you girl.” Ma snapped.

“Yes Ma. Sorry Ma. Please Ma. Oh, oh, ow!” Mary yelped, or some such thing.

By now Mary’s splendid bottom was quite red and Mary was decidedly moist around the eyes. I was just wondering how much longer the chastisement would continue when Ma stood Mary on her feet and seized me.

I felt a sudden breeze at my tail end and then the stinging swats of Ma’s hand. I was surprised at how much her plain palm could hurt and I was soon as sorry for myself as Mary was.

“What about you Lizzie Baines? You have this coming don’t you?” Ma growled.

“Yes Ma.” I wailed, completely shamed by the admission.

The spanking seemed to take an age and Ma spared me no pains to extract my verbal submission over and over again until I felt about five and my face was as red as my bottom.

Then as I stood dancing and trying not to rub, I watched Cindy get hers. We must have looked a sight, three grown women, two red-bottomed and moist-eyed watching a third being spanked like a child.

“Alright.” Ma said at last releasing the red-faced and even redder-bottomed Cindy. “I want three hineys side-by-side across the table.”

We all exchanged shame-faced glances and then reluctantly did as we were told. I was in the middle book-ended by my two sister-in-laws.

“Legs straight and backs dipped. Get those behinds up.” Ma snapped. “Lizzie do you hear me.”

I thought I could get no more embarrassed but I railed at Ma’s orders to stick my bottom up and fresh tears sprang to my eyes.

“A little more, better. You too Mary.” Ma prodded and slapped us until she was satisfied.

I glanced sideways at Cindy. She was licking her lips nervously, but found the heart to offer me a quick smile. A glance at Mary showed she was self-absorbed with her eyes fixed on a spot on the wall ahead. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw our three bottoms like six white hills with the beginnings of well-defined dark slots between.

“Now that’s a pretty sight.” Ma said without humour. Then snapped. “Mary legs together, I don’t need to see your breakfast.”

I felt Mary shift. I would have done anything to see Ma’s view right then, especially if Amelia could take my place. But that was not on today’s menu. Today’s dish of girl-flesh stew included a slice of Lizzie, I thought ruefully.

Ma went slowly once she did begin. I heard and felt the first, but only by way of Cindy who jerked and hissed at its coming. I tensed knowing I was next. But Cindy squeaked again and thrice more. Then just as I was lulled, I felt a line of fire across my bottom. I screamed in surprise.

“Such fuss.” Ma scolded.

I was silent for the next few and again just as I was about to cry Ma switched targets and it was Mary’s turn. For one awful moment, I wondered if the others had duped me and my place in the middle might be a disadvantage. But after Mary received her due Ma returned to Cindy’s hindquarters for a sustained dose.

I could not believe that pain of the switches next visit to my bottom and it was all I could do not to cry out.

The worst of it, was not knowing how long each portion would last. I could feel Cindy struggle and gasp for an age. I even chanced a look sideways at the contortions of her face as she chewed on her lips and bit back tears. All the while, I knew that at a stroke it could be my turn again. Then it was.

The switching took its toll. Mary was first to crack and began baying like a dog and repeating single words. For one stretch she kept saying ‘bottom’ and then ‘goody-girl.’ There was a juvenile tone to her words and I doubt she knew what she was saying. I did not have long to ponder. Shortly afterwards I began to cry in earnest. I might have said, “wah,” who knows?

A curious thing happened at this point. I found myself offering up my bottom more prominently, as if greater submission would my ordeal sooner, but could only have served to invite more correction. In any case Ma was waiting for Cindy to break, by then we all were.

By the time Cindy was reduced to sobs ma was on her last switch and evidently had decided to exhaust it before ending our bottom blistering.

“Oh my.” Came a voice. It was Amelia.

I could have almost have prayed for another switching in place of Amelia bearing witness, almost but not quite. I didn’t have the opportunity to see Amelia’s reaction as we were quickly hastened to take our place at the wall with our wet noses hard pressed to it.

“Don’t dawdled there or you’ll join them.” Ma said. I presume she was talking to Amelia, but I was too lost in woe to care.


Corner time seemed to take an age, well it always does, and once we were released, Mary scurried off to her room in a flood of fresh tears. I followed Cindy’s example and we minced with some mustered dignity towards the stairs.

“Shall we see if Mary is alright?” I sniffed as I chanced a squeeze of my tender bottom.

“She’ll be OK.” Cindy said with a tight smile. “Come one let’s apply some spank cream to our tails.”

I blushed remembering a previous somewhat intimate encounter with Cindy. Not that it stopped me.

First came the obligatory inspection as we stood side-by-side in front of the long mirror. Our bottoms were dark red and purplish with scores of vivid welts like the angry scratches of a fearsome tiger. Cindy traced one such line on my flesh and I cried out but did not pull away. This welt was a ridge and stood out with a defined edge. Cindy run a moist thumb along and sighed in satisfaction.

“This is a beauty.” She breathed.

“I have many more like them.” I was feeling light-headed.

“Yes.” She knelt at my feet and hugged my thighs for a closer look.

I toppled over and had to steady myself with my hands flat on my bed. This left me bending for even closer inspection.

“Oh god.” She gave a little gasp. “Lie down.”

I did so and she reached for the cold cream. It felt good. So encouraged she pressed a little harder and deeper.

“Ah.” I gasped.


“A little.” I groaned.

“I spoke of my cousin?”


“She showed me something she learnt at her sorority in the city.” Cindy offered me an open-mouthed grin that promised mischief.

I think I knew where this was going, but I pretended to myself that I didn’t.

“Alright.” I whispered.

Then I was stunned. She slowly dipped her tongue into the cold cream jar and scooped out some on her tongue like ice cream. She could not contain her smile, even with her tongue in the way. Then oh so gently she eased the gunk on my stripes one by one, tracing the passage of tortured flesh and only pausing to gather more cream.

“What does it taste like?” I said inanely to distract myself from an obvious sin.

“You’ll find out.” She grinned.

“No I…”

“You will or I will spank you.” She teased.

“Ma will hear.” I gasped, as if that was the only objection to her threat. Perhaps it was.

Then she attacked the inner slopes of my bottom with my tongue. The eyes must have started in my head.

“We shouldn’t do this.” I was panting.

“Do what?” She teased.

I couldn’t say it. That was an admission.

“Southern comfort.” She said with her tongue in her cheek.

“Yes of course.” I swallowed.

Sometime later, I was bathed in sweat and lay panting on the bed. Cindy had explored every crevice of my singing flesh, setting it to playing a new song.

“I have another jar in my room.” She offered.

“For you or for me?” I asked tentatively.

“For you, for now.” She smiled openly admiring my welted bare bottom.

I closed my legs to hide my arousal.

“For now?” I swallowed.

“I have three jars.” Her smile was very broad.


5 Responses to “Lizzie Baines: a 1950s spanked wife (part twelve)”

  1. 1 George

    What a wonderful mother!
    This is the mother-in-law that honest an wise men hope for…
    Probably not too much freedom… but if you’re serious, what better than fair and balanced DD in a Traditional household?

  2. 2 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    I’m beginning to get the impression that the “Ma” in this story is a woman who, deep down, enjoys spanking young ladies and takes any excuse she can get to coerce them to submit to her psychic vampirism, which is what this sort of thing amounts to.

    And it’s not that I’m not enjoying the story myself, just sayin’ that maybe she’s sublimating or perverting some of her own sexuality into this lurid desire to steal “energy” from her young charges by spanking and whipping them as she does.

    Which is not to say that they don’t on some level consent to being used in this way. As the story shows, they do get something out of it, not least in sexual arousal and vicarious enjoyment of each other’s torments.

    Still, I have the feeling there’s some deep mystery to this stuff that I’ve yet to fathom. Or at least that’s why I tell myself I keep reading these kind of stories — ’cause it’s not porn, it’s research!

  3. What a lovely story about one of my favorite periods in history. I have only one criticism. I don’t have first hand experience, but from everything I’ve seen and read and heard the SWITCH is the most unforgiving instrument of punishment and is used from the small of the back to the backs of the knees. The first lick can have a girl howling and remorseful as it cuts into the flesh and wraps its nasty finger around the legs and hips. The thinner and whippier the switch the better. I don’t think the full excruciating and remorseful experience was conveyed here.
    None the less, a great snapshot of the 1950’s South. (or anywhere for that matter)

  1. 1 Chick spanked for smoking | Naughty BDSM Thinking

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