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

12Sep10

Our story began here.

The next morning you could not see my face for grinning. Much the same could be said for Cindy. I also noticed that she did not sit easily at breakfast and I wondered what confession she had shared with her Clark.

My own bottom was fairly tender, but I had only felt George’s hand, so I was well able to put a brave face on it. Cindy made not such effort, it was almost as if she was proud to let the world know that her man had put her in her place the night before.

“Ooh.” She squeaked as she sat. “Clark you beast.”

“No doubt you deserved it my girl.” Ma said disapprovingly.

Not for the first time, I wondered if Ma could really be so innocent.

After breakfast, I started to help with the dishes but Ma chased me up the stairs with vigorous slaps to me behind.

“You go and get pretty for your man.” She scolded.

We had a lovely day, although I couldn’t quite say what we did. Isn’t it strange that we rarely remember the details of the happy times, but the slightest tick of a clock or a smell will bring back the ashes of defeat or one of life’s traumas as if one were reliving them?

That evening we went to bed early. As we went up the stairs, we could hear the rhythmic smacking of girlish flesh followed by Cindy’s healthy yelps.

“It sounds like Cindy still needs reminding whose boss.” I laughed happily.

“That reminds me.” George said pointedly.

I turned to him open-mouthed, surely he wouldn’t?

He would. Not five minutes later I was almost nude and bending bottom up over the end of the bed while George stood bare-chested behind me getting ready to tan my behind with his belt.

“Please George.” I breathed; I was both aroused and scared.

“You say you ain’t got this coming?” He said in a low voice that melted my heart.

“That’s not fair.” I pouted.

“Well?”

“Please.” It was a sigh.

His knuckles brushed my inner thigh and felt the moisture there.

“You little hussy.” He said half amused and half incredulously.

“Oh.” I treated him to a full body blush. “Don’t make me say.”

“So I get to decide.” He teased.

“Always.” I said in a tiny voice. I was in mortal fear I think, the belt looked mean, but as much I as couldn’t say it, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hold your bottom up and kept back towards me. If you move it too much I swear I will start over.”

“George.” I gasped.

“Do it.”

I shifted my position. I could not believe such indignity.

“Higher.” He growled.

My bottom was high and although my legs were together, I knew he could see something of me between.

“Now hold that if you know what is good for you.”

“Please George everyone will hear.” I wailed.

“Good.” He barked as brought his belt down across my raised hiney.

“Yeow.” I screeched.

George ignored be and began to ply his trade.

The strapping was hard, not a thing of fun as I had partly assumed. George needed to put me in my place as much as I needed him to. Lash followed lash as I yelled the place down. I thought Ma might come on account of the noise, but of course that would never happen in the Baines’ house.

The pain of the leather was different from anything I had felt before. There was no biting sting as with a switch or pervasive ache as with a hairbrush. It was sort of a little of both, only it burned. It was a mellow burn with a tight sting at first. Then burning grew until I could not hold it. It was hard to keep my bottom up and I set to bucking as I wept, but I was proud all the same as George did not stint in his chastisement of my errant wife’s bottom.

“Quite a colour you have there.” His voice was thick. “If you agree to submit later I rest you awhile and sooth you.”

Like a fool, I agreed. But his soothing was as vigorous as his belt. Of course, after I had lain wet at both ends in his arms for a while, he became all hard with me again. And you can take that as you will.

“Alright let us finish this, get your tail back up.” He said with an iron grin.

“You’re enjoying this.” I accused, my bottom was already very sore.

“You bet.” His grin got wider.

*

Christmas was nigh and we were to have two more for the festivities. A few days later John, Ma’s youngest son came home from college. He was in his last year but to everyone’s surprise he brought a girl with him.

“Ma this is Eileen.” He said after he had hugged his mother.

“Eileen?” Ma appraised the girl carefully.

“She is in her sophomore year.” John explained.

Eileen looked overwhelmed and stood looking around as meek as a kitten. I knew how she felt, it hadn’t been that long since I had been in her position myself.

“I am not saying she is not welcome but shouldn’t she be with her own folks for Christmas?”

“I don’t have any folks ma’am.” She said shyly.

“I am her folks now.” John said proudly. “I hope you will be too.”

“What do you mean?” Ma said her eyes darting in her head from her son to the girl.

“We are engaged to be married.” John said careful studying his Ma’s reaction.

The words hung in the air and I thought someone would explode, if not Ma, then the girl who had suddenly turned to stone.

“That’s fine John.” Ma said at last with a broad grin.

Then everyone talked at once and there was another general round of kissing.

I learned that Eileen was from Iowa and her parents were both dead. She had never known a mother and her father, who had died just before she made it to college, had been away a lot on business leaving her with an elderly aunt of his.

“I didn’t really have a family until I met John.” She confided as we sat and took tea.

“No siblings? Brothers or sisters?” I asked. I had already presumed not, but it seemed polite to ask.

“The nearest I ever had to a sister was when I joined the sorority last year.” She giggled. “I guess John has a lot of sisters.”

“Oh yes.” I laughed. “It’s a big family.”

“I have heard so much about it.” Eileen smiled.

“I wonder.” I said carefully, wondering what she knew. “Tell me what is the sorority like?”

“Oh its fun, mostly. I have a big sis Marlene and now a little sis Mindy. She’s cute, but a lot of trouble, I can scarce handle her.”

“Handle her?” I asked puzzled.

“Oh I have to look out for her, but I can barely do that for myself. Marlene is a lot of help there. She can handle us both plenty.” There was something cryptic about her last statement, but she would not be drawn and we got to talking about Louisiana instead.

*

Ma was busy in the kitchen and for once had shooed us girls away. So I went out onto the porch to take advantage of the unseasonably mild air. I was really thinking as I sat and had to jump up quickly clutching at my behind. George and I had been roughhousing it a bit the night before.

“Are you alright?” Eileen asked.

I hadn’t seen her so I had cause to blush a little.

“Yes its just…” I shrugged not knowing what to say.

“My room is next to Cindy’s.” She said quietly.

There was a long pause.

“Does she get spanked often?” Eileen persisted.

“What makes you think she was getting spanked?” I tried on for size; decidedly uncomfortable about the direction the conversation was taking.

“I think I know the sound of a be-hind getting toasted by now.” She said impatiently but pronouncing behind with some emphasis.

“She probably had it coming, besides she doesn’t mind so much.” I said defensively. “Anyway how would you know what a spanking sounds like?”

“I told you about my sorority. It kind of goes with the territory.” It was her turn to blush.

“I heard about such things, is it rough?” I was genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah.” She said archly mimicking a pained rear end.

“When… I mean how does it happen?” I ventured looking around conspiratorially.

“They got rules for pledges during the first semester. You break ‘em and out comes a paddle. And boy it’s easy to break the rules.” She said ruefully. “Then there is Marlene. Since she became my big sis she gets to paddle my tail just about whenever she thinks I need it.”

“She is your big sis, a sort of mentor?” I said.

“That’s right.”

“And she still spanks you even know you’re a sophomore.”

“Sometimes.” Eileen said meekly looking at her feet shyly.

“Now you have a little sis and I suppose you mentor her?”

“Uh-huh. But I am not so good at dishing it out.” There was along pause. “Anyway I won’t have to so much now, we have had the initiation and she is no longer a pledge.”

“Do they paddle you at this initiation. I mean were you paddled at that too last year.”

“Oh and then some I tell you…” She stopped. “Darn. I am not supposed to talk about any of this stuff. Boy I am for it now.”

“No one is going to know.” I said puzzled.

“I’ll know. It’s a kind of honour thing. I’ll have to tell Marlene.” She looked quite crestfallen

I let it drop although I was still curious.

“Does George spank you as well?” She asked glancing at my bottom.

I nodded. Just a small nod, but somehow it gave me a thrill to admit it to a stranger.

“John spanks me.” She confided. “It makes me feel… loved, like I belong somehow. Maybe because I never had a family.”

“It seems to be a Baines’ family tradition.” I said with feeling, my hand straying to my behind again.

“I don’t mind.” She smiled. “Do you?”

I thought about it and decided I didn’t anymore. I shook my head, but blushed just the same. We both started laughing.

Continues.



One Response to “Lizzie Baines: a 1950s spanked wife (part fourteen)”

  1. 1 sssspank

    Just read it from part 1 to 14 and all I can say that it is the best spanking story I have read so far.
    Thank you!


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