The Schoolhouse on the Prairie
The old schoolhouse, as it was known, stood bellow the rise above the stream almost three miles from the Stepford Ranch House. Louise Stepford snorted at the very idea, as far as she knew it was less than 30 years old, having been built by the first generation of settlers in these parts. But then that was typical. The so-called first-comers invested everything with more gravitas than it deserved, especially themselves. Like this schoolmaster of theirs, who did he think he was? Louise was furious.
It was bad enough that she didn’t have a man of her own, John Stepford having passed away on the journey out from Boston. But that was no excuse for uppity westerners to take advantage of a poor widow and her daughter.
The word stuck in her heart. A widow again at 36, it seemed so unfair, Louise sighed. Her first husband had not returned from the war, leaving her with a daughter at just 18-years-old. John Stepford had been her only real recourse. Now he too was dead. It wasn’t that she missed him exactly. She had never really loved him. But now Ellie was 18 too and they both had to make a living on a ranch with no man and precious little of anything else. Louise sighed again. Boston was never like this. Then she remembered the uppity schoolmaster and his outrage. No Boston was never ever like this.
Now that the schoolhouse was in sight Louise pulled her shawl about her shoulders and took a moment of tuck a stray strand of raven hair into her bonnet. The wind was picking up and kicked at her skirts. Damn the man, bringing her all this way out here. Didn’t she have better things to do?
Louise didn’t bother to knock, wasn’t this a public building after all? She would be damned if… any other thoughts were wiped from her mind as she swept into the little school house and saw Ellie and what had been done to her.
“Oh my God, you barbarian,” Louise gasped.
She didn’t even look at the man who perpetrated such an outrage, so she didn’t see his look of angry disapproval as he glanced up at her from his desk over the rims of his spectacles. He was big man in a once grand black suit that had seen better days. If she had taken the trouble to look she would have seen the darker outline of a star on his lapel where once a sheriff’s badge had been pinned.
But instead Louise’s eyes were drawn to Ellie’s shameful predicament. The petite raven-haired younger copy of Louise was stood in the corner with her hands planted firmly on her head with her skirts had been tucked neatly into the small of her back. Most shameful of all was the sight of the girl’s cream linen draws in a puddle at her ankles that had left the full young curves of her womanish hips and… and bottom completely nude. Louise was still taking in the hard shine of red that marked both hind cheeks when she blurted…
“That’s Ellie’s bare bottom.” It came out as pure indignant Bostonian. Great Aunt Aggie would have been proud.
“That’s customary ma’am when someone gets a good sound spanking,” Jonathon T Redmond drawled from his place at his desk.
“But… but she’s 18 now, surely she is too old for a…” Louise swallowed down her indignation to allow her to pronounce the shameful word, “Spanking.”
Remembering his manners, even if his guest didn’t, Redmond got slowly to his feet.
“Ellie doesn’t graduate for another month ma’am,” he drawled, “Until then she gets the same treatment as everyone else in my class.”
“But this is… it’s…” Louise spluttered, “Why back in Boston a man would never… why Ellie’s practically a woman now.”
“Then she really ought to know better hadn’t she ma’am,” Redmond said sharply and pointing out that, “Besides, we are not in Boston.”
“That, you unspeakable man, has never been so clear to me,” Louise all but screeched.
“Now ma’am, I don’t know what brought you here to my school, but Ellie here has to serve another 35 minutes in the corner and then I will release her. So if you would kindly…”
Louise did not believe what she was hearing.
“You expect me to allow…” she gaped, “I’ll tell you what brought me here Mr…”
“Redmond, Jonathon P Redmond ma’am,” his eyes tightened at the corners and he fixed her with a hard stare as if daring her to question his methods.
Louise knew his name well enough. There were few enough names out here to learn.
“Mr Redmond, I don’t know what you consider normal where you come from, but gentlemen certainly do not… Ellie repair your dress at once and come out of that corner.”
“Don’t you move a step Miss Stepford or wale your behind again only this time with a switch,” Redmond’s voice brooked not a hint of compromise.
Suffice to say Ellie did not even twitch.
“When Arthur Peagreen, dreadful boy, came by my ranch saying that Ellie would be home late on account of getting a ‘whooping’ as he called it, well I just had to…” Louise told him, the words tumbling over each over in their haste to leave her mouth, “But I never imagined…”
“No one ever took your draws down and gave you a sound spanking on your bare bottom Mrs Stepford?” Redmond asked Louise casually.
The heat rose in Louise’s face and it wasn’t all anger now. She spluttered silently before turning to Ellie and saying, “Ellie, we are leaving. Come out of that corner at once and… pull up your draws.”
Ellie shuffled uncomfortably and then without turning her head wailed, “Oh Ma, it’s alright, just go home.” Her foot stamped in frustration as she spoke.
At this rate the whole town would come by and see her in disgrace. So far Louise had not bothered to ask what had prompted such action on Mr Redmond’s part. Ellie fervently hoped that she wouldn’t.
“Damn you woman, you are even more spoiled than Ellie,” Redmond sighed. “Life is hard out here, what in God’s name did you want me to do when your daughter shoves another student’s head down the outhouse?”
Louise gaped and shot a wild look of disbelief at Ellie.
Her daughter was biting her lip now and casting a desperate look over her shoulder.
“Ma, Rachel Bingham called me a bitch and a whore and said…”
“That language and the other thing is what got you a good spanking in the first place young lady,” Redmond told her sharply.
“Well that’s what she said,” Ellie muttered.
Throughout this exchange Louise stood open-mouthed not knowing who was the most barbaric, this Redmond or her own daughter.
“Ellie, you can come out of the corner now,” Redmond said gently, “Go home, your mother and I need to talk.”
Ellie didn’t need telling once as far as her dignity went and she was halfway out the door with her bare bottom still hanging in the breeze before her draws finally covered her tail. Then she was gone with a slam of the door.
“That is a girl that needs to be taken in hand,” Redmond said sadly with a shake of his head.
Meanwhile Louise, overcome with shock and a sense of failure, was building herself up to an old-fashioned paddy. She stood in the middle of the floor shaking with rage with her face exploring every shade of red God had given her.
“You…” she spat, “You unspeakable man, you did this…”
“I assure you I didn’t ma’am. It was definitely Ellie who pushed Miss Bingham’s…”
“And for why?” Louise screamed, “Her language, her… she’s a hellion. I should never have let her come to this school.”
“You would prefer the other one?” he cocked one eyebrow in gentle mockery.
“You bastard,” she hissed.
“I assure you, curse words are not on the curriculum, in fact I strongly discourage such utterances as you may now gather,” he offered gently, “You came out here on the wagon train didn’t you? Tough times, I know. Here a young woman… grows up fast. She just needs some guidance is all.”
How dare this man blame her for her daughter’s decent into hooliganism? She seethed for a moment longer and then stepping forward she slapped Redmond hard across the face.
He blinked twice and staggered back a step. The woman was small, but she packed a big punch.
“You utter, utter bastard,” her eyes flashed and her face took on a look that suggested that it had been her face shoved down the outhouse.
“I can see that it is not only Ellie who needs a lesson,” Redmond sighed and began to remove his jacket.
In truth Louise no longer heard him and let out a long hard sigh of disappointment at this latest twist in her life. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She certainly didn’t know Ellie. In a moment of insight she realised that she could never return to Boston now. Ellie for one did not belong there. John’s death and the long hard trail had burned it out of them and left something alien in its place.
Redmond put his jacket over the back of his chair and began to roll up his sleeves to reveal his powerful forearms. Then sitting on an armless chair used by an older student he sat down and crooked his finger at Louise.
“Mrs Stepford, please come here,” he said quietly.
“What?” Louise murmured as remembered he was still there.
“Mrs Stepford, you will come here or when I am through with you I will send you out back to cut a switch too.” Redmond’s voice was diamond hard now. The kind of voice he used only on very difficult students now, but it had been hard-learned on town toughs and gun-toting punks.
“What?” Louise shook her head.
And then as if returning from a long trip she suddenly took in the small schoolhouse room and realised what he was about to do.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged him, but the scorn had an uncertain edge.
Redmond was not a man who made idle threats and he knew this woman was in serious danger of biting off more than she could chew with him. If that happened it would put a wall between them forever. If he wanted to build on the changing rapport between them, and he did, then he had to be decisive. So instead of waiting for the quiet obedience that her daughter already offered him, he reached out his long powerful arm and seized her by hers.
“Oh no, no, no, no you don’t,” she offered the words, but even to her own ears there was some half-heartedness to her protest.
Redmond pulled her easily towards him and across his lap where she floundered and kicked up her heels like a vaudeville cliché. But he had been married once and her heavy grey cotton skirts and lighter white underskirts were no mystery to him. He piled them easily into the small of her back to expose the knee-length dainty lace bloomers.
“Oh come on now,” she said in a tight voice as if being asked for a reluctant dance. “You really can’t…”
Redmond considered sparing her modesty for just a beat, but then remembered his only defence with Ellie was quite rightly that this was how it was done. So after a heartbeat longer her tugged at the string at her waist and let the snowy draws tumble like an avalanche of cotton down the woman’s pale thighs.
Louise’s hips were full and round, not like the alabaster statues he had seen in a museum once, but despite the hint of blemishes that any real woman had, they had nobility not found on a dancehall girl or one of the women who occupied Kathy William’s upstairs room. To complement her heroic figure Louise’s bottom hung in two tight lobes that filled out the space between hip and thigh in epic proportions.
“Mr Redmond,” Louise screeched, respectfully marking his name for the first time that evening.
“Mrs Stepford,” he acknowledged, and when she merely gulped and squirmed he told her, “I am going to give you the sound spanking that you have been needing for a long, long time.”
“You… you wouldn’t…” her eyes darted back in her head like a wild pony as she added, “Dare.”
Redmond brought his arm down in one great sweep that landed with a hard splat on her exposed bottom. His palm left a quickly developing handprint on her right hind so he added another to the left.
“Ooh, Mr Redmond,” Louise squealed.
Undeterred, Redmond spanked her bare bottom as hard as ever spanked a woman and as soon as she took to curses he wondered if the switch might not be needed after all.
“You can’t, you can’t, this is too much,” she protested, but her voice was pained and she clawed at her hips as she tried to pry them apart.
“I believe I can,” he barked back at her, spanking in hard again and again.
“Nooo please, Mr Redmond,” she shrieked.
Louise pounded on the legs of the chair with both hands and kicked her legs as if she had been seized by Indians. But none of this deterred him in the least and he spanked her bare bottom over and over until it resembled a ripe strawberry.
“Mr Redmond, Sir, please, please stop, someone might come in,” she wailed, “I’m sorry I slapped you,” she added, “I was… upset.”
He spanked her extra hard so that her babble ended in a squeak and her face became lost in sequential comedies. Then as she helplessly bucked on his lap she reached out for the crosspiece of the chair as it would aid her to ride out the mortifying storm.
“Mrs Stepford I do not appreciate being told how to do my job. I do not appreciate being slapped in my own classroom. I do not appreciate you barging in while I am punishing a student…” Redmond scolded her as he spanked her with an effort drawn from the heart.
“Oh please,” she wailed, “I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again, please.”
There was summer rain in her voice, like a dampness you could smell before the downpour. The bottom spanks rang out like pistol shots as strong as ever, but her protests had grown weak, her chuckle-like spluttering descending into sobs.
“Ooh,” she wailed, rolling her lower lip down as a prelude to a defeat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Then finally she broke to tears and in tones not unlike Ellie earlier began to sob in earnest.
“Now Mrs Stepford, when I am through here you are going to go stand in the corner like a good girl or will send you for a switch if I have to spank you again to get you to mind me. Even if, and mark my words well ma’am, we have to do this all night.”
“Yes Sir,” Louise sobbed miserably and in utter surrender.
Redmond blasted down with his arm so that his palms stung almost as much as her bottom must as he continued the spanking for a good few minutes to finally make his point.
“Now, the corner, just as Ellie was,” he ordered her.
Louise jumped up and danced around the room with her hands clamped to her still bare bottom and the last of her best Boston reserve streaming down her face.
“The corner, Mrs Stepford, or I will send you for a switch,” Redmond said sharply.
Half pulled together but with her hands still kneading her bottom, Louise gaped at the man, but then seeing his eyes she averted her own. Her face was as hot as hell as she sucked on her tongue, that is to say half as hot as her behind. She couldn’t, she just couldn’t, her mind screamed as she looked daggers at the corner. Would he really make her cut a switch? Would she even do that? What if someone saw?
“Just as Ellie did, you say?” she managed to say after a swallowing. Some Boston dignity was back in her voice, but it was forced, like the time she had been made to walk with a book on her head in an attempt to improve her posture.
“Just as you saw Ellie standing in the corner, exactly so,” Redmond suppressed a smirk.
Louise’s bottom flared with pain as she took a step towards the dreaded corner and she winced.
“I have seen such prevarications before Miss,” he said deliberately using the diminutive, “Believe me.”
“This is too much Sir,” Louise said haughtily, attempting a tone one used with equals.
“Mrs Stepford, go stand in the corner,” he barked at her.
She scurried there quickly and after the longest pause reluctantly took her hands from her scorched-red bare bottom and placed them on her head.
*
The hour following her spanking had been the longest of Louise’s life. She was thoroughly mortified and silently raged at the man, at Ellie, at her late husband John and finally the world in general. But the truth was Louise Jane Stepford was the only one at fault. I have been lamenting the Boston life for far too long, she decided. So what if Ellie got a ‘whooping’ at school, why did she have to stick her nose in as usual? Ellie had it coming.
The implications of the last decision did nothing to ease her inner turmoil. This is so shameful, she realised and then it really sunk in, he can see my bare behind. The sting had abated and now transferred to her face where her blushes redoubled.
“Please Mr Redmond, I have learned my lesson, please may I go now,” she said with exaggerated politeness.
Redmond reached into his pocket and took out his watch.
“Another five minutes I think Mrs Stepford, after all that is what I require of Ellie,” he let his eye run across her handsome bottom and adjust his posture.
Louise sighed heavily, but there was nothing she could do. Please, please, please don’t let anyone come in, she prayed.
Finally Redmond stood up and put on his jacket.
“It is dark, I will walk you home,” he said.
Louise snatched the hands from atop of her head and dropped her skirts like a curtain. She did not bother to put her bloomers back on, that indignity was too much. So she kicked them off and hastily scooped them up and hid them in her skirts. But he knew, damn the man, he knew. Her blushes reached new levels.
“I can see myself home thank you very much,” she said tartly as she went for the door.
“Mrs Stepford, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Louise stopped and glared at him. Surely he didn’t mean her bloomers.
“After correction, it is customary to offer one’s thanks,” he said.
Louise took a deep breath and then crossed the room towards him. She extended her hand as if at a social function and with one curt nod and a shake she said, “Thank you Sir.”
“Thank you ma’am,” Redmond agreed as he tried not to smile.
Then blushing furiously she left with almost as much haste as Ellie had earlier. But at the door he coughed and she paused.
“Mrs Stepford, might I have the pleasure of your company this Sunday?” he inquired.
Louise rounded on him and gaped.
“I could call around six,” he suggested.
“If you do, I’ll greet you with a shotgun,” she said with an attempt at bitterness.
“Six then,” he grinned.
Louise sniffed and walked out.
The stars were sharp and clear and went on forever. Each one seemed to point the way to a new future for her, but the only star that interested her just then was the one Jonathon Redmond used to wear on his broad chest. Now he is a man with a story, she pondered, I wonder if Mr Redmond likes chicken. And then as soon as she was certain she was a distance from the old schoolhouse she began to laugh.
Ends
Filed under: DJB stories, education, history, M/F, Romance, spanking stories, western | 14 Comments
Tags: 1800s, 1880s, 19th century, corner time, OTK, spanking, submission, switch, switching, Victorian
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Spanking, spanking stories and spanking articles for adults
This blog is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented here are intended for adults. Nothing here should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
All characters appearing in short stories on this blog are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This blog aims to explore themes of erotic discipline, female submission and spanking. It features stories, anecdotes and observations by DJB and others.
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Damian,
the old well worn themes are the best, not so. 🙂
Paul.
It is my take on a classic yes 😉
Now, that’s a great story.
Thanks 🙂
This story should inspire a future episode of ‘Little House on the Prairie (again)’ when the powers that be in TV-Land realise that there is an audience for old time vintage drama’s!
BTW …I just loved that line near the end of this story….”Now he is a man with a story, she pondered, I wonder if Mr Redmond likes chicken…” Gave me a laugh :-).
W (fka_Paolo-in-Dublin)
Hi (Wholebean?) so do I take it I is Paolo?
I am glad you liked the story – it can be taken as a ‘lady doth protest’ or an epiphany sort of tale – the reader can decide. 😉
I loved the story and characters. I wish it wasn’t the end.
Thanks K
who knows – but I am reluctant to open up another series.
I’d love to read more of that. Little house on the prairie was one of my favourite series when I was little. So can we agree that this story was “just” the pilot? Please?
Who Knows – V – who knows 😉
This was yummy. I remember I’d once got sent out of class for throwing a pencil earlier this year, my uncle works at the school and unfortunately for me used a slipper in his class room on my backside and to my mortification my headteacher cam in! It was cringe worthy!
Thanks Lily,
we seem to have several Lily’s commenting here at the moment so I took the liberty of renaming you Lily C in the header.
Lily, what kind of school do you go to and why did you throw a pencil?