‘Peace for our time’ the Prime Minister had said only a few months before, Virginian reflected as the wreath of red was laid at the memorial. There was another war in her youth. The war to end all wars, they had said. As she watched the gathering red, she smiled bitterly, remembering that summer of 1916.

The red then had been of another kind entirely, although just as much the result of violence of a kind.

The men had all gone away. Her brother Raymond had fallen at the Somme and then her beloved Charles at Ypres. She had had a breakdown of sorts and had been packed off to Chartley.

Chartley. She sighed. That such a place could exist amidst the horrors of war, a place of selfish introspection and sexual tension. All those young women separated form their men by death and war burning with petty emotions while the world went up in flames. They knew it then too. In their hearts, they knew it. And they felt the guilt of it, a shame that they must expunge. How else could one explain Chartley?

Miranda Wells had told her that first day, that after Chartley things would never be the same again. Miranda had been the custodian of Chartley. As the founder of the Society for War Widows and Distressed Gentlewomen, or just the Society, as she liked to call it, she was responsible for ‘guiding’ her girls.

“Any community must have rules.”

“Yes but who enforces the rules and what happens if one breaks them?”

“Why, under my guidance the rules must be enforced by those with the moral strength and authority to do so. And what happens depends on the individual.”

Virginia hadn’t believed her at first, but then she had met Victoria. Victoria was a skittish 21-year-old redhead who had lost her fiancé on the Somme and had declared herself much too grief stricken ‘to go on in a beastly world.’

If Virginia had been honest she would have admitted that her dislike for Victoria stemmed from the recognition that they were two leafs from the same tree. But that summer she was as lost to the world as Victoria was. Also she might have realised that the girl’s beauty touched part of her that had previously lain untended deep within her.

The prevailing eccentricity of Miranda and her Society was unveiled to Virginia during the first week.

It had been explained that there was a shilling fine for minor breaches of the rules. These infractions might include coming late to dinner or forgetting to close an outside door when a fire had been lit. However, Virginia had seen absolutely no evidence that the slightest heed was paid to these regulations or any attempt made to enforce them.

Then on the third day after her arrival, Madeline Mosley came late to dinner and for some reason Miranda remarked upon it.

“Oh my dear girl one must make an effort. After all there is a war on. I am very much afraid I will have to dock you a shilling.”

Madeline was a mouse of a thing. Cute as a button and lost under a mass of blonde curls and it had surprised everyone when she had refused.

“I really don’t think it fair so I shan’t.” The sulky girl had replied.

“Oh dear.” Miranda said in her best prefect tones. “Then I am afraid I must see you in my room after dinner.”

Virginia may not have thought any more about it, but after dinner she saw Victoria fussing in the hall. What is that stuck-up girl doing now, she wondered moving to find out.

“Whatever is it?” Virginia asked, taking note of the delicate curve of Victoria’s neck and the way her nose turned up, as she did so.

“Oh I just wanted to make sure that there were fresh flowers in my room, but Miranda’s door is closed and there seems to be a beastly row going on inside. It is really too much.”

Virginia was about to ask what was so wrong with a closed door and suggest that the foolish girl merely knock upon it, when she heard Miranda’s raised voice and another’s plaintive cry coming from within. Without waiting she seized the handle and pushed open door.

“Oh my.” Victoria gasped.

They were confronted with the sight of a half disrobed Madeline bent across the desk being belaboured by a determined Miranda with a school cane. Virginia could see three dark lines across the girl’s defiant white bare bottom and it was clear that more were to follow.

“Oh please she has gone mad.” Madeline protested.

“Not at all,” Miranda said impatiently. “I am merely teaching the impertinent minx some manners.”

“Oh golly.” Victoria blushed.

“Oh, oh please.” Madeline wailed.

“I see. Will it take long? Only Victoria here seems to think the flowers in her room are an urgent matter.” Virginia was amused both by Madeline’s predicament and Victoria’s reaction. But before she could say more Victoria fled the room. “Oh it is not so urgent as it was thought it seems. Do carry on.”

“Glad I am sure.” Miranda said tartly turning back to the moist eyed Madeline.

There was a light swish as the cane cut another line across Madeline’s defenceless bottom and she squealed.

“I was wondering, a shilling is 12 pennies so should I make it 12 strokes in lieu of a fine?” Miranda asked idly as she caned the girl twice more.

“What an interesting question.” Virginia pretended to consider it seriously as she smirked at the tableaux before her. “Why not 24? After all there are 24 ha’pennies in a shilling or 48 farthings and it is such a little cane.”

“You are right 12 does seem deficient. But 48 seems rather a heavy bill for such a small comely bottom. What do you say to 24 Madeline?”

“Oh please I’ll be good, I won’t be late again.”

“Oh you can be late again and I shall cane you again. It is after all obviously what you need.” Then Miranda caned the girl slowly six more times extracting healthy wails as she did so. “Another 12 are just the ticket I think. Thank you Virginia.”

Virginia waited while Miranda slowly and soundly caned the girl until she was lost in tears. Then she followed Victoria out.


Virginia wondered if this episode was a one-off prank but over the next few weeks it became clear that many of the ‘inmates’ of Chartley were dealt with the same way.

One day she was out walking by Chartley’s small lake when she chanced upon Mrs Blackwell and a friend. Mrs Blackwell was a rather bohemian woman who always wore grey or black. She also sported a rather severe straight hairstyle that left her dark locks fringed at her forehead and just half an inch off her shoulders. This style would later be referred to as a bob and would become all the rage after the war. But at this time it was virtually unknown to Virginia and the look, coupled with Mrs Blackwell’s habit of wearing rather mannish attire, made her appear somewhat eccentric.

On this occasion, Mrs Blackwell had a pretty young girl all dressed in white cotton draped across her thighs as she sat under a tree. The rather cute your girl had her skirts tucked up and piled onto her back and her rather skimpy directory style undergarments slipped down to her knees to reveal a plump but comely bare bottom. At least she had the good grace to blush, but her red face paled beside the colour that Mrs Blackwell had imparted to her bottom with the flat of her hand.

“Pay her no mind old fruit,” Mrs Blackwell chuckled as she went on spanking the girl with some effort. “I shall put the naughty minx in the corner of the summer house after.”

The girl’s blush intensified and she moved to cover her face with her hands.

“Take your hands away Milly so that we can see your face or I will spank you with a hairbrush after supper. We must see your shame.”

Virginia wanted to watch but felt she was intruding and slipped away. Although she did pass by the summer house later that afternoon and saw the girl dutifully standing in the corner with her bottom bared daintily behind while Mrs Blackwell red a book a short distance away.

After that she often saw the girl follow Mrs Blackwell around like a puppy, this despite regularly and loudly being threatened with a spanking for some reason or another. The threats were no idle ones either and one never knew when you would chance upon Milly in an odd corner of the house or garden with her freshly spanked bare bottom displayed.

The strange young couple were by no means unusual. As the days went by Virginia saw many groups of two or even three women in huddle on the law or in the drawing room being altogether more affectionate than propriety would allow.

Then she discovered that not only was Madeline a regular visitor to Miranda’s study for a caning, but that there were many other girls who accepted the same invitation only to be soundly caned. All were quite distraught at their treatment, but none ever left. Indeed, it appeared that the girls like Madeline who were caned by Miranda were the ones that were on the best terms with her.

Virginia also noticed that Victoria was often seen loitering outside Miranda’s room on such occasions and even found reasons to ‘discover’ these punishments in progress. Virginia knew this because she herself was never very far way.

Virginia also noticed that Victoria was late for lunch or dinner almost every day. She always apologised and drew attention to herself, but was never fined or summoned. In fact on one occasion, Madeline even commented upon it. Only to be required to see Miranda afterwards in her room.

Virginia herself tried being tardy, knowing that she would never submit, but just to test the way of things. Sure enough, her shortcomings were also ignored.

One day she saw Victoria out walking with Mrs Blackwell. At first she paid the incident no mind. There were after all only so many women to talk to at Chartley. But as she watched it seemed that Mrs Blackwell was making a new conquest.

As Virginia watched, her eyes took in the way the thin summer dress clung to Victoria’s thighs and bottom with the cloth slipping into the fold between her nether cheeks to reveal the shape of her buttocks. Travelling up she saw how her nipped-in waist flared again upwards and ended in the swell of her breasts.

All this she found quite disconcerting. She had not had feelings like this since school. Only at breakfast had she found herself counting the soft dewy hairs on Victoria’s neck. She might have counted them all but she noticed that Miranda was watching and blushed. Suddenly her kippers held all her interest to her plate.

With greater self-knowledge she might have recognised her feelings as jealousy, but introspection rarely brings true self-awareness, so when she followed the pair to the lake she told herself that she was making sure the silly girl did not do something she would regret.

She had half expected to witness a spanking and her pulse quickened but instead Mrs Blackwell just stroked Victoria’s hair as they stood at the water’s edge. Then as Virginia watched, the older woman began to undress her newest conquest.

Virginia was torn. She wanted to hasten to Victoria’s rescue but the prospect of seeing the girl unveiled was too great a temptation. So she squatted down to watch.

The dress slipped oh so slowly from Victoria’s shoulders and a gasp escaped Virginia’s throat as the full firm breasts were exposed to the air. Being a warm day, Victoria had eschewed stockings, so when the dress reached the ground only the cotton under things hid her remaining modesty. Then these too were tugged gently over her thighs and after one last futile attempt to cling to her pale bottom cheeks tumbled to her ankles.

Victoria was exquisite, her delicate figure as if carved in marble. Then Mrs Blackwell kissed her and Virginia felt sick. But there embrace was short-lived and Mrs Blackwell stood back to look at the naked goddess.

Down below, Virginia felt a swelling usually reserved for thoughts of her fiancé, which only intensified as Mrs Blackwell’s hands strayed purposefully to Victoria’s throat and began to unbutton her tunic.

Mrs Blackwell was a dark demon beside Victoria’s golden beauty. Her dark hair was echoed in the triangle between her thighs and the definition of her bottom, breasts, thighs and all else was dark and well defined. Some might say she was the more beautiful of the two, but Virginia craved Victoria, even ashamed as she was at the open wetness between her thighs.


After the two women made love, they swam and Virginia watched it all. It was too beautiful to miss, even if she was distracted by the twin devils of shame and envy.

Then Milly arrived and spoilt it all.

“It’s not fair.” Milly raved tossing her hat to the ground in a tantrum.

“You little brat.” Mrs Blackwell returned with confidence and not a little amusement despite her blatant nudity. She strolled elegantly from the water casually lighting a cigarette plucked form her clothes as she did so.

Milly took a nervous step back and pouted in the face of such glorious beauty.

Victoria had another reaction entirely. She splashed about in panic and scrabbling for her clothes made a dash for the house. Virginia wondered how far she would get before she realised she was still naked.

Mrs Blackwell sat still naked on the angled trunk of a willow tree and pulled the unresisting Milly over her lap. Although her bottom was quickly bared it was odd to see the spanker nude and the naughty minx still largely clad. Not that her spanking was any less severe for that.

The crisp biting sting of Mrs Blackwell’s hand could be heard across the grounds and the spanking that followed reduced Milly to blubbing almost at once. Not without cause given the redness of her bottom.

Virginia watched until the spanking was done and Milly was denuded in order to take Victoria’s place. Then she slipped away, finally overcome with the strange emotions.

By the time she reached the house she was almost herself again, but still unnatural thoughts haunted her mind. Things were not improved as she passed Miranda’s room. The door was wide open and a well-spanked Madeline was standing in the corner with her bottom exposed. She did not stand patiently or obediently, but was fidgeting as if she might flee.

No doubt the cause of her discomfort was the presence of another girl bending over Miranda’s desk. She too had obviously been well spanked and was now undergoing a stiff session with a cane at Miranda’s hands. The girl’s face was obscured and as Virginia tried to see who it was Miranda looked up from her labours.

“Good afternoon Virginia, such troublesome girls.” Miranda was more cheerful than usual and one might think she was trying her hand at flower arranging or some other such mundane task. Then tossing her head in Madeline’s direction, she mouthed the words. “She’s next.”

Not knowing what else to do Virginia nodded and hastened on.

“Oh Virginia, you might see to young Victoria, she just passed this way in rather a state of well… go and see.” Miranda called after her.

Empowered by Miranda’s suggestion, Virginia went to Victoria’s room and knocked on the door. The door opened and a very morose Victoria, now draped in a dressing gown, grabbed her arm and in a very flustered state tried to say something. Then at last she said: “I know you don’t like me but I have been such a silly goose I… I hardly know what to say. I must be a beast.”

“Like you… I adore you.” Virginia breathed, hardly believing that she had dared say such a thing.

“But I have been… oh if only you knew.” A tear escaped Victoria’s eye and she turned away.

“Oh but I do know, that dreadful Mrs Blackwell person, just you wait until I give her a piece of my mind.” Virginia took Victoria in her arms and gave her a sisterly hug. “As for you, you come with me this minute.”

Then Virginia took her new friends hand and led her into her room. Once there she sat on the bed and crooked her finger at the still flustered Victoria.

“Come here at once you dreadful girl.”

“Oh my. What are you going to do?”

“This.” With that Victoria was pulled down across Virginia’s lap and smacked smartly on her silk-clad bottom.

“Oh.” Victoria gasped.

Virginia spanked the girl hard several more times and then emboldened by her submission flipped up the hem of her flimsy gown to bare her bottom. She spanked slowly, admiring the growing red, her hand pausing at each swat to cup the girl’s flesh and fondle her. Then she spanked again.

Victoria’s eyes darted in her head, her mind filled with both agreeable and disagreeable thoughts both at once. Virginia spanked her firmly and slowly until a pleasant heat and infused her bottom. Then Virginia broke into rapid volleys that caused Victoria to struggle on her lap.

“Oh, oh please, no more, it is enough.”

“It is not nearly enough and you know it.”

“Oh.” Victoria wailed, but there was acceptance in her tone.

When both women were panting like country dogs, Virginia knew she was in danger of being bested.

“You get in that corner, I will come back and we will see about sterner measures.”

“Yes Virginia.” Victoria whispered rubbing her bottom but making no attempt to cover it.

Virginia walked briskly and confidently down the hall to Miranda’s room.

By now Madeline was back in place across the desk undergoing a hefty caning. There were already a dozen scored ridges marking an already red bottom and Miranda looked like she was only just beginning. The other girl stood in Madeline’s place and was weeping gently, her face still hidden.

“Miranda may I borrow that?”



“Well you took your time, here. I thought you would have taken her in hand days ago.” Miranda handed Virginia the cane. “Madeline can wait for the rest.”

Virginia said nothing, but nodded curtly and returned to Victoria.

The girl was standing humbly in the corner holding her gown at her waist as she turned herself about to examine the redness of her bottom.

“Nose to the wall you wicked girl and you can remove that.” Virginia scolded.

Victoria obeyed.


Virginia had drunk in Victoria’s submissive beauty for almost an hour as she stood in the corner breathing softly. When she was finally ready, she had Victoria bend over with her hands flat on the bed so that her back was arched down and her bottom out and turned upwards a little like her nose.

“You have no right.” Victoria’s protest emerged as a sigh.

“I am going to be very, very cruel. To be kind you understand.”

“Yes.” The word hung lightly on Victoria’s breath.

Virginia was clumsy with the cane at first. It was a wild thing in her hands and the crimson lines scored across Victoria’s bottom were pell-mell and tended to cross.

Then little by little she drew down more practised stroked that stained the girl’s flesh more evenly. Victoria’s appreciation of Virginia’s growing skill was limited as she struggled to hold position and hopped from one foot to the other struggling with her tears. By then there was a solid grid of welts across her pale flesh. Here and there the angry red had darkened and Virginia wondered if she might draw.

“Please.” Victoria wails were indecisive.

“You can go if it is your wish to leave.” Virginia challenged. “If you stay I will be harsh.”

“Oh.” Victoria wept quietly.

“You will sleep at the foot of my bed and I will spank you every day.”

Victoria answered Virginia with heavy breathing.

“If you are late for breakfast I will send you to Miranda.” Virginia added enjoying her power.

Victoria had collapsed forward a little so that she rested on her elbows weeping.

“How many strokes was that?” Virginia’s question was spontaneous. She herself had no idea.

“Please. I don’t know.” Victoria squeaked.

“Then we must begin over again I am afraid. Shall we start from the corner or the spanking?”


Meanwhile, as Virginia found out later, Mrs Blackwell was having her own little ordeal. Miranda had confronted on her return from the garden.

“A quite preposterous suggestion. Get out of my way Miranda” Had been Mrs Blackwell’s response as she inhaled on her cigarette and pushed past with her nose haughtily in the air.

“My office or you must leave. No more totty for you.”

“I could go off you.” Mrs Blackwell had conceded with as much dignity as she could muster.

A decision she would soon regret as the whole house heard her plaintive begging. She hadn’t even received the privacy of a closed door.

When Virginia later made an appearance to inquire if her evening meal might be served with Victoria’s in her room, she saw that Mrs Blackwell was standing nose to the corner in the dinning room. She had been required to hold the hem of her dress into the small of her back to reveal a bottom so ravaged with tramlines that Virginia wonder why she ever thought she had been remotely harsh with Victoria. Perhaps I should add a little to Victoria’s penitent tapestry, she thought.

“Dinner off the mantle for her I think.” Miranda answered Virginia’s unanswered questions as she admired her handiwork.

“You had another cane then.”

“Oh yes. Keep the one you have, you will need it.” Miranda smiled and strolled towards the kitchen. Her parting shot had been: “oh and Virginia, report to me after dinner tomorrow. I think it is time that we had some words don’t you.”

She had too, Virginia remembered and often afterwards. It had been a summer of red.

The war had made a turn for the worst that autumn and Virginia had volunteered as a nurse. Matron had been the caning sort, so she had felt quite at home. Especially when a year later she had taken over such duties herself. Miranda’s cane had scored many victories over naughty nurses bottoms. Including an earl’s daughter or two. Duty could be fun she had decided.

After the war she had found a man to take her in hand, determined to grow up. It had gone well until Mr Hitler revealed his other plans. Next year’s red would be for more recent fallen. Perhaps they would take her back as a matron.


7 Responses to “Remembrance”

  1. 1 opsimath

    Another fine story from one of the best blogs on the whole net. Thank you, Damian, for sharing your finely-honed talent with us.

    If, by any chance, I don’t have the opportunity again, may I wish you and yours the happiest of Christmases and a peaceful and prosperous New Year.


  2. 2 opsimath

    Another fine story from one of the web’s best spanking writers, whose talent for creating literate erotica seems quite boundless.

    Thank you for sharing this finely-honed gift with us, Damian, and may I be among the first to wish you and yours a Happy Christmas and a Peaceful New Year.

    I look forward to reading you again and often in 2011.


  3. 4 Fatherjim

    What a delightfully sincere setting against the backdrop of the horrors of war! If only a sound spanking could really cure the losses one experiences in such times.

    The pacing of the story was incredibly in line with the settings of the times. It flowed like a well made movie of the time, only better!

    Wonderfully and masterfully done!


  4. nice story

  5. 6 Emilio

    Very nice story.
    And indeed the best is when both sides know very well what must be done. And right deeds follow…

  1. 1 - Chross Guide To The Spanking Internet

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