The Sinclair Method


1950 spankingAlice Bowman stepped out onto the hotel porch and fumbled for a cigarette in her purse. Her neat white gloved-hands quickly found the packet and smoothly flipped open the top with her thumb. She was running on pure instinct as she paused to look around with nausea lurching in her belly and then she relaxed. It was a filthy habit she knew, but Mrs Baxter was three states away and in any case there was not a soul to see her.

The flame from the Ronson tickled the end of the tightly wrapped tube of tobacco and she watched it burst to a glow as she gently sucked on it before a satisfying curl of blue-white smoke twisted from the end on its way to the sky. It made her feel like Eve Maria Saint or Audrey Hepburn in a movie.

In her figure hugging cotton floral dress and tiny pill box hat, sometimes she imagined she looked like the former; she certainly had the curves she decided. But although she was a head turner on the street she didn’t quite have those looks. She sighed.

In the middle distance the interstate traffic was building up as people got ready for work. Well the 20th century was halfway through now and the modern world did tend to crowd in. It was a wonder there was still work for a young woman plying her trade in the old ways.

The old ways, she thought ruefully, remembering Muriel Baxter and her first encounter with her when still fresh from the WAVES. The navy had given her an appetite for disciplined structure and purpose and her quest for a fulfilling life had led her to the Sinclair Method and Mrs Baxter oh so many years ago. Now it was her turn to pass on the baton.

Alice took another drag on her smoke and looked at her watch. She was ready to meet her new charges, always a fraught time, hence the cigarette. Suddenly feeling guilty she took one last drag and dropped the offending white stick onto the patio and stepped back into the hotel. The Sinclair Method most certainly did not permit smoking and it would not do to let the girls see her with such things.

As an extra precaution she took a mint from her purse and popped it into her mouth. Candy too was a no-no, she had watch that figure as did her girls, but sometimes one evil had to be traded for another and sometimes even for a woman near 30 there would be consequences. She sighed again and straitened her hem. But today she was in charge and that was all that mattered.

Perhaps to procrastinate further, another thing that the Sinclair Method did not permit, she took out her compact mirror for one last check of her war paint and then got into character.

The four girls were waiting in the lounge. Three were seated and the fourth, the eldest stood at the mantle examining an artefact she had found there. She put the small china figurine down as Alice entered but did not turn and studied Alice in the mirror as if the glass put some distance between them.

This neat brunette might have been 22 or 23 and was wearing a dark grey travel skirt suit with large black silk palm leaves tastefully embroidered into the fabric. Alice noted that she was wearing white gloves and a hat as all well brought-up young ladies should.

This must be Katherine Anders, she decided, one of the two women who had enrolled of their own volition. The other was Mary Welling, but a glance around the room did not reveal which of the others that might be.

Not the pert blonde, she decided. That girl was perhaps the youngest and sat in tight crazy-patterned ski pants on the arm of the leather chesterfield swinging her legs. Jenny Coleman, Alice decided, a 19-year-old brat from small town Ohio who was on the fast track to delinquency according to the covering letter supplied by her aunt.

The pensive redhead sitting on the upright chair looked over nervously as she bit her lip. She too was wearing a travel outfit and white gloves. But hers was ill-fitting and somewhat lacking in taste. The yellow was neither bright enough for a statement nor subdued enough for elegance and the A-line drop had muddled pleats.

Alice almost decided that this must be Janet Mitchel, the other delinquent ‘invited’ into her care as an alternative to a court appearance. But then she saw the sullen girl in the corner. A suicide blonde with a pencil skirt that was sharp enough to cut oneself on and a sweater that made her charms all too obvious. That was Janet, Alice amended.

So the nervous girl was Mary Welling then, her other volunteer ‘out to better herself,’ according to her application.

“Alright girls, pay attention,” Alice announced herself, “I am Alice Bowman your mentor and if may use an old-fashioned term, your governess.”

The young woman at the mirror turned politely and offered a non-committal smile. But it was the presumed Janet who spoke first.

“Governess, is that like a jailer or a lady state boss?” the sullen girl sneered, her accent carried a hint of New York.

“It is more like a polite term for a personal tutor,” Alice corrected her, “And you will be pleased to stand up when you address me. In fact you will all stand-up when I enter the room.”

Janet stood up with challenging deliberation and then cast her arms wide as if to signal her cooperation. At least she was smart, Alice decided as she wondered who would be first to test her.

The more nervous Mary was slow to follow suit, but she did and once on her feet dusted off her awful yellow dress. That left only Jenny swinging her legs on the arm of the chair.

“Jenny is it?” Alice said pleasantly.

The girl looked surprised and for a moment her face became younger and innocent before reverting to its ‘bored teen’ demeanour.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Please say yes ma’am and stand-up,” Alice told her, still smiling pleasantly.

Jenny sighed in irritation as she grudgingly and gracelessly stumbled to her feet.

“Yes…” she replied with emphasis pausing before adding, “Ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Alice replied.

“I’m Katherine Anders, Ma’am,” the woman at the mantle said as she walked forward and leaned in to offer her hand.

“Katherine, how nice,” Alice beamed, pleased that she had guessed right.

“Mary,” the nervous woman chipped in. Consternation crossed her face as she clumsily added, “eh Ma’am.”

Alice returned an encouraging smile and then swivelled her gaze to the last girl.

“You are Janet aren’t you?” Alice spoke at last.

“Got it in one,” Janet shot back and made a motion like she was pitching a ball.

Alice held her gaze until the girl grinned and winked as she said, “Yes Ma’am.”

“Now that we have all met I want you to gather up your luggage as we have to make the bus in 20 minutes. In due course I will have something to say about your mode of dress, but for now we will have to make do,” Alice told them.

She noted that Jenny rolled her eyes but it was Katherine who spoke.

“Ma’am, we just got here, where are we going?” the elegant older woman asked, she sounded slightly put out.

“Who cares, anywhere is better than this dump,” Janet threw out.

“If you must know we are going to Washington,” Alice said impatiently.

“Oh cool,” Janet whistled.

But Alice noted that Jenny was still being surly and rolling her eyes.

“DC?” Katherine said in some surprise.

“Washington State, near Seattle,” Alice corrected her.

“What?” Janet gasped, “But that’s…”

Some instinct made her hold her tongue and she went off muttering.

“I’m not going to freaking Seattle,” Jenny said suddenly.

The girl sat down in an armchair and folded her arms.

“I am very much afraid that you are,” Alice said patiently. “Now we have 15 minutes.”

Jenny let her mouth hang open in disgust and she shook her head vigorously.

“I am not going,” she said.

Alice sighed and regarded the girl carefully. An easy conquest she decided. She just needed a firm hand and some direction. But she might serve as an example to the others if it came to it. Janet in particular might benefit. Alice had already decided that the reluctant cooperation from that quarter was indication of guile and not good behaviour.

Jenny sat with her arms folded staring fiercely into the middle distance as she sat.

Alice moved closer and bent down close.

“If you don’t stand up and get your bags, I am going to put you across my knee here and now and spank you where everyone can see,” Alice whispered.

She took care that the others didn’t hear her. It was too soon to paint the brat into a corner. All her instincts told her softly, softly to catch a monkey.

Jenny glowered, two points of red forming on her cheeks. Her aunt had made such threats, but not once had she carried them out. But some instinct made her flick her eyes to take in Alice’s.

“This is so unfair,” Jenny spat and stamped her foot.

But all the same she got to her feet and stomped away to the hall to get her bags.


Katherine and Mary kept their own counsel as they boarded the Greyhound, each for their own reasons. Alice knew that both were going to be complex and very different in their needs, but that it would take time to tease out their characters.

Jenny and Janet, on the other hand, were more straight-forward. The latter girl spent much of the journey sounding off and teasing the other women. She kept just the right side of the line and Alice knew that she was being tested.

Jenny on the other hand was not so clever and did nothing but whine and complain at every juncture and stop in the journey. So by the time they got to Spokane Alice had had enough.

“I hate this stupid bus and I hate Seattle and I…” Jenny began.

There were some boys with motorbikes and an open-top Packard on the other side of the street and Alice suspected that they featured in Jenny’s thinking or lack of it.

“Jenny, you have 20 minutes to get a coke and visit the bathroom before we make the next connection,” Alice told her.

“Well I am not going,” Jenny decided and sat down on the bus shelter bench with a stubborn smile painted on her face.

“Jenny,” Alice warned, “You remember what I said.”

Jenny folded her arms and set her gaze straight ahead with a fixed glare.

“Jenny if you don’t stand up and do as you’re told I am going to put you across my knee and spank you here on the street,” Alice said sternly.

This time she said it in a loud clear voice that while not quite carrying across the street, was heard by the other girls. Janet smirked and Katherine looked over with interest engraved on her face. Only Mary blushed and looked at her feet.

Jenny did not look around and just hugged herself harder.

“Very well,” Alice sighed.

Then sitting next to Jenny she hauled the girl across her lap in a trice so that the ski-panted dome of her bottom fit neatly across her knees.

“Hey,” Jenny cried, but too late.

Alice applied a quick efficient spanking with short hard slaps until the red-faced Jenny began to yelp and kick out in protest. It was enough to gain the attention of the young men across the street and they began nudging each other and laughing out loud.

“Alright, alright,” Jenny wailed.

“I’m not done,” Alice told her and spanked on.

“Please, not here, not here,” Jenny pleaded.

“Oh I think so,” Alice replied sharply, “And be warned, this is the one and only spanking you will get that is not on your bare bottom. And I mean when and wherever it is needed.”

“Please,” Jenny wailed.

“You want me to take your panties down here?” Alice asked applying a few more crisp spanks.

“No Ma’am, please no Ma’am,” Jenny said frantically.

The spanking was gaining currency now and several other townsfolk had stopped to watch.

“You want the rest now or later in private?” Alice asked.

“Later, please Ma’am, not here,” Jenny squealed, turning her head into Alice’s lap.

“Later it will be on the bare and no arguments,” Alice informed her, still not breaking off from her assault.

“Yes Ma’am, yes Ma’am, please,” Jenny said urgently.

Alice immediately stopped and set the red-faced Jenny on her feet where she did a little up and down dance while grabbing at her behind. This brought a ripple of chuckles from some gathered shoppers and open howls of glee from the boys opposite.

“Ooh,” Jenny wailed and scurried away at a lick.

Later Jenny sat with a wince in back of the bus until Alice called her out to sit with the others. The blush hadn’t left her face since the incident and now it fully bloomed as she hurried to obey, certain that everyone on the bus was looking at her. Not that the other girls said anything. Mostly they were thoughtful and unmocking, except for Janet who had not stopped smirking since Jenny had been spanked.

Finally the bus pulled away leaving the scene of Jenny’s shame as she earnestly hoped that no other witnesses had boarded the bus too.


The bus made an overnight stop at a small town halfway across Washington State. In fact they were so close to the place they would be staying that even Katherine asked about the need to put up in the small grubby hotel.

“We can’t get the keys until the office opens so there is no point arriving after midnight, we would have nowhere to stay,” Alice explained. But she was irritated that she had been questioned.

The hotel was more of an old boarding house run by a mother and her grown-up daughter. But apparently there was only one other guest and he was more or less permanent they were told.

“Don’t expect to see old Mr Trent,” Mrs Willard the proprietor told them, “But my son is liable to return at all hours I shouldn’t wonder, otherwise you won’t be disturbed.”

“I have some business to attend to with one of the girls,” Alice replied, “Noisy business.”

Mrs Willard pursed her lips and cast her gaze between the women gathered in her parlour before they lit on Jenny. The younger girl was quiet and somewhat withdrawn even, for once she looked even more nervous than Mary.

“Oh, I know that look,” she chuckled, “Don’t worry this house is used to… that business. Mr Trent is deaf and it won’t worry us will it Ellen?”

Alice noticed that the up to then cheerful Ellen, a big girl with wild and unkempt blonde tresses, suddenly looked shifty and blushed.

“Right after the evening meal then,” Alice said, casting a significant look at Jenny.

Jenny flushed and looked at her shoes.

“Miss Bowman I… I am sorry about earlier,” she drew in her cheeks and flicked her glance up at her governess.

“Oh you will be,” Alice assured her. Then she left the girl to think about it.

Just before they all disappeared off to bed Alice went to find Jenny in the room she shared with Janet. Janet was not there but a fully clothed Jenny was sitting on the bed looking somewhat apprehensive.

“Come along young lady,” Alice said, “We have something to attend to.”

Jenny looked at her with sad eyes and begun to wring her hands.

“Please Ma’am I…” she mumbled.

But Alice merely beckoned and went back up the hall to her own room.

It took more than a minute before a leaden-footed and sad-faced Jenny appeared at the door. By then Alice was sitting on her own bed with a hairbrush in her lap.

“Next time you play me up in public this is what you will get in public,” Alice said, “Now slip down those ridiculous pants and come over my knee.”

Jenny glowered for a moment and then quietly entered and closed the door after her. Then quickly she stepped right out of her ski-pants and with them her panties, placing both on the chair just inside the door.

“You’ve done this before,” Alice said in amusement.

“No Ma’am,” Jenny said in a thick voice and gulped.

“You seem to know the drill,” Alice shrugged and took Jenny by the arm.

Unresisting, Jenny allowed herself to be led to Alice’s lap and conscious of her nudity went over quickly and hugged into her governess’s knees positioning her bare bottom, which was small and tight but nonetheless prominent. The older woman prodded it gently for a moment to explore its firmness and thought of former days not so long before when she had been so placed.

There was no real trace of the spanking Jenny had gotten earlier that day and her skin was smooth and white like fine porcelain.

“I am going to spank you now and I am going to spank you hard. I am going to take my time and long before I am finished you will know you are punished,” Alice told her charge.

“Yes Ma’am,” Jenny murmured.

“You are embarrassed of course,” Alice said gently.

“Yes Ma’am.” It was true and heat rose to Jenny’s face.

Alice drew back her arm and held it high before letting it fall with a firm flick across both proffered hind cheeks. The crack was loud and in the kitchen below Mrs Willard gave her daughter a knowing smile and nodded.

Jenny’s eyes sprang wide and she gaped like a fish as she processed the sting. She was still struggling with it when another spank landed, and then one more. A short fast volley followed that and left her bottom hot and tight while Jenny herself was panting for breath. It will end, she told herself and hugged into Alice’s knees some more. But it didn’t. It went on and on until Jenny made small noised in her throat and began to wriggle.

“Please Ma’am, please,” she whimpered but otherwise made no other protest.

Alice looked down at Alice’s tight smooth bottom that now had heavy pink ovals on both cheeks. As the colouring spread to encompass her whole behind she could see that red areas swelled a little and rose into two rubbery pads where the spanked flesh bordered the china whiteness.

Jenny herself was panting hard and small pained yelps escaped her throat at each impact. As the spanking continued it was these that grew louder until the girl announced each spank clearly and began to buck.

“Ooh Ma’am,” she moaned, “Ahh.”

It was Alice’s signal to begin in earnest and she pulled the weight of her arm through the swats as they fell as Jenny gave herself over to wet yells.

“My method is the Sinclair Method as I explained to your aunt. All spankings are on the bare bottom and then that bottom is usually set to cooling in the corner for some serious and not to say lengthy contemplation. Girls like you are shameless and must be taught shame, which is why embarrassment is such an important component for a spanking,” Alice explained, “During our stay if I have cause to spank you again for any reason, I will spank you downstairs in front of the others. Then you will go to the corner until you grow roots. Do you hear me Jenny?”

“Yes Ma’am, ooh, oh,” Jenny wept.

“I am so glad, so, so glad,” Alice said, not making the least effort to finish the spanking.

It was a long time before Jenny was allowed to go to the corner. By then her behind was as red as it could be and the girl was in a smash of sodden tears. Her bottom was two balls of fire and only the threat of a reprise kept her from massaging it. Instead she clawed at the proxy of her thigh fronts until Alice ordered her to clasp her hands behind her back. Then all she had to do was have a good cry and endure the throbbing sting for an hour or so.

In fact 80 minutes passed, approximately twice as long as it had taken Jenny to stop crying, before Alice released her from the corner.

“Now am I going to have any more trouble from you?” the governess asked.

“No Ma’am,” Jenny gushed with astonished eagerness.

“Good girl,” Alice said happily, “Now you can go to your room.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Jenny gushed again.

As Jenny gathered up her clothes Alice took a breath and found herself wondering who would test her next. It was too close to call, but her money was on Janet. She noted that Jenny made no attempt to dress, but instead limped cowed to the door. Well it was only just up the hall and they were the only guests, she reasoned. But then Jenny stopped and looked back with sad eyes.

“Ma’am,” she said.

“Yes Jenny,” Alice replied.

“Thank you Ma’am, no one has ever taken the trouble with me before,” Jenny said shyly.

“I know Jenny,” Alice said. “Goodnight Jenny.”

“Goodnight Ma’am.”

To be continued

14 Responses to “The Sinclair Method”

  1. 1 Ken

    Very enjoyable, I hope there will be another?

  2. 2 paul1510

    very nice, I hope that this is only the first instalment. 🙂

  3. 3 DJ

    Thanks guys – who knows 🙂

  4. 4 Harry

    I love this story. I hope one of them will get a public spanking.

  5. Excellent. And they haven’t even reached Seattle yet. I’m sure the lady of the house has some business to take care of with her own daughter as well.

  6. 8 Johnxc

    The theme of this story seems to be based on the philosophy of Ms. Spencer, who promoted the “Spencer Method”, advocating that young adult women still living at home (which was very common in the 1930s, not only for cultural reasons, but also due to the Depression), should sign contracts with their parents, agreeing to accept spankings for breaches of household discipline. As I recall, she also advocated that wives should make the same agreements with their husbands.

    I wonder how many women followed Ms. Spencer’s advice? I suspect that it had advantages for both parents and daughters. From the parents’ point of view, it gave them a certain amount of control over their daughters, but from the daughters’ perspective, it allowed them to feel secure and protected, and even to behave like brats when they wished, as long as they were willing to pay the price, knowing that they would immediately receive post-spanking forgiveness.

    And, for those daughters who actually ENJOYED being spanked, it was the best of all possible worlds!

    • The Sinclair Method is actually a method of curing addiction through tapering off and using substitutions developed in the early 1990’s.
      I don’t think Dorothy Spencer was received as a credible adviser even at the time. She didn’t have credentials and I have not been able to find much about her life or career or any stats concerning her thesis.

    • 10 DJ

      Spencer didn’t really work for me – but an interesting curio and not what I had in mind fore this story.

  7. This is a fantastic start. I love when you set your stories in a world of old school values, particularly with an F/F slant. I enjoy other stories too, but you always knock these out of the park.

  8. This is my favourite story of yours. Excellent work!

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