The Sinclair Method (Part 8)


1950s otk spankingOur story began here.

Mary had run her little speech through mind over and over and each recall had caused a festival of blushing. But finally she had managed to work out her humbling request.

However, now that she stood outside Alice’s door her courage began to falter and words once set in her head wriggled form her grasp like her resolve. Nevertheless, she straightened her skirt and knocked firmly on the door.

The pause that followed could have encompassed eons and Mary almost fled. Then finally a feminine voice from inside called, “Come in.”

Mary heaved a sigh and then reached out for the door knob; a slick little beats that seemed to resist her grasp for a moment. Then she was in.

Alice was sitting in a comfortable chaise long smiling. Next to her on the upholstery was the hairbrush, a big heavy wooden beast with which Mary was now well-acquainted. For a moment neither spoke and the only sound was the ticking of an alarm clock on the bed stand.

“I eh… I have come for my spanking,” Mary managed at last.

Alice cocked an eyebrow and waited.

“I mean… please… eh; please would you give me a spanking. On my… um… on my b-bare b-bottom,” Mary’s voice was thick and she could not meet Alice’s eyes as she added, “And then…” she swallowed, “Please send me to the corner as I deserve.”

Alice rolled down her lower lip in disdain and then frowned.

“Is that the best you can do?” she sighed. “I mean it was alright and had you come to me with that humble request when I first asked you I might have been satisfied. But it is hardly a request to make the newspapers is it?”

Mary gaped aghast at the idea of such publicity.

Alice rolled her eyes to heaven as she realised that the girl had taken her literally.

“What did I tell you to do?” she asked.

Mary shrugged and squirmed like a worm on a hotplate, “But I asked,” she whined, “I did.”

“I said, fully and fulsome, like you meant it,” Alice said wearily, “Weren’t you listening?

Mary gaped like a fish. In her head it had sounded so much more comprehensive and she seemed to remember words like ‘soundly’ and as ‘I richly deserve’ which she had just now omitted in her shame.

“Oh, oh,” Mary wailed, “Let me… can’t I… try again.”

“No,” Alice barked as she seized the girl and upended her over knee.

This time the spanking was long hard and very drawn out until Mary kicked a bawled and begged that she was sorry. Not that it availed her anything and all through it she knew she had to come back.

In all the spanking lasted over half-an-hour and by the time Mary was sent to the corner she was a puddle of tears.


Janet stood back and admired the neat piles of clothes on the dresser shelf. All her new clothes were hung on rails, each seam razor straight. The old Janet would have sneered and she practiced one by way of trying one on for size. Her heart wasn’t in it.

It wasn’t just that an untidy room would get her a spanking from Alice, it was something else, a feeling she couldn’t place.

“Oh Jan, aren’t they wonderful,” Jenny gushed as she entered the room, “When Alice said we would get new clothes I thought…”

Janet remembered picturing wet drippy duds herself, not that she would admit it.

“They are okay I suppose,” she acknowledged grudgingly.

“Alice is such a brick,” Jenny continued enthusiastically, her friend’s clung-to cynicism largely unnoticed.

“You soon changed your tune,” Janet said in surprise.

Jenny blushed but stuck to her guns.

“Well…” she pursed her lips sullenly, “It is just that no one ever cared about me enough before to spank me.”

Me neither, Janet thought, but her response was a derisory snort.

“Don’t you like Alice?” Jenny asked seriously, an incredulous tone dominating her voice.

Janet looked off to the side, not meeting her friend’s eyes. How could she like someone who spanked her like that and who would continue to spank her? But did she? She answered with a shrug.

“She’s alright I suppose, better than some anyway,” she answered reluctantly.

“Oh it is going to be great here, I just know it,” Jenny was gushing again.

Janet returned a disbelieving smile and together with a withering look let her scepticism show.

“Yeah well… there is that, but we will just have to be good won’t we?” Jenny pouted.

“You poor dopy kid,” Janet joshed her with a gentle punch on the shoulder.

That was it, she thought, I have to show that I am not so easily cowed.


Mary swallowed hard and took a long look at herself in the mirror. Her behind still held a deep ache from her encounter with Alice three days before and she grabbed it hard, perversely enjoying the sharp flaring it caused.

She glanced at her writing desk and blushed as her eyes fell upon the scrappy notes she had made. Even from where she stood she could see the words ‘spanking,’ ‘corner time’ and ‘punish me,’ that were underlined.

What exactly was her problem? Was she too ashamed to say such things aloud, was she that much of a ninny? What was she scared of? She took a long slow deep breath and fixed her gaze on the eyes staring back at her.

She was going to get a spanking. A very long painful and very sound spanking on her bare bottom, nothing could alter that. She might even be taken to the woodshed for a taste of the switch. She gulped at this thought. She certainly would be if she didn’t buck her ideas up. Was that why she kept messing up? Did part of her long for that afternoon in the woods? It had certainly been the most intense and profound experience of her life. Maybe, she thought, but she was certain now that sooner or later such things would happen anyway.

No, the real matter in hand was respect. If she was going to please Alice, and that she knew now was important to her, then she had to progress. She gave herself an emphatic nod. She had one more chance before it all became impossible, she decided. She had to do this.

In her worst moments she considered how shameful what she had to do would be if she had to ask for a spanking in front of everyone. Perhaps one day she would have to, maybe that was what graduation would look like. The insight stopped her in her tracks. I am here to learn, to be punished, she thought, but I can barely admit that to myself, not yet, not even now… she shook herself and dismissed that train of thought. She wasn’t ready.


Alice’s door loomed up before her like the gates to purgatory and she drew herself up straight. Then she knocked on the door.

She wasn’t that surprised to see Katherine sitting in the corner. Her friend looked uncomfortable and despite her inherent poise, shifted uneasily in her chair.

“You have something to say Mary, do you not?” Alice asked from her place sitting on the chaise long.

Mary nodded and licked her lips. Katherine’s presence made this ten times worse, but she couldn’t fail again. She nodded.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Alice’s face, a look that threatened to crush Mary.

“Yes Ma’am,” she said firmly, claiming the moment back. “I wish to apologise for my behaviour. Going into your room and snooping was a betrayal of your trust. I am sorry. I know I have been a bit of a… a ninny about all of this and I am sorry for that too. I am here to ask you to spank me on my bare bottom. Or indeed discipline me in any way you see fit.” Mary blushed as she faltered and then steeled herself to continue. “If you spank me, you should spank me soundly and then send me to the corner with my… my naughty bare bottom on show so that everyone can see what a silly girl I have been. So to recap…”

“Thank you Mary, good girl,” Alice beamed.

Even Katherine looked impressed.

Mary let her mouth hung open as she breathed softly. Her heart pounded in anticipation, a feeling complicated by her open relief.

“I have spanked you quite often enough over this affair,” Alice told her, “So since you are now being adult about it I will give you an adult punishment. Please remove your skirt and the rest of your under things.”

Mary swallowed, blood pooling at her cheeks.

“When you are ready I want you to bend over with your hands flat on the chaise and your bare bottom sticking up and outwards for me,” the governess instructed.

Mary nodded and blushing like a rose, slowly obeyed. Not once did she look at Katherine.


Katherine’s heart and mind raced. Mary had surpassed her. Even now, almost nude below the waist with her bare bottom sticking out obscenely for correction she had found some dignity. Could she do as much?

The other disconcerting thing was Mary’s well-presented bottom and the way it made Katherine feel. Her pulse rate was definitely up and she was tight in places usually reserved for thoughts about girls

“The cane is a civilised method of correction, much used in England,” Alice was saying.

Mary didn’t move in her posture, although she chaffed at the indignity of it. But Alice had been right; this was far less childish than being across the knee. But somehow she missed the security of Alice’s lap.

Katherine shifted in her seat again and put a poised hand to her chin as if contemplating a painting. She was here to learn after all and ogle like some hairy oaf. But all the same she squeezed her thighs together a little and hoped no one would notice.

The caning was short and efficient. Almost as if Alice wanted to bring this chapter to a close without further ado. The first stroke was loud and hissy; a scratch in the air that ended in a taught sharp line across Mary’s bottom. The girl blinked hard at the impact and then gasped like a fish as the pain continued to grow.

The next six did nothing to assuage Mary’s growing distress and from four she emitted a little distressed ‘oh’ sound.

It took a while for Katherine to realise that Mary was gently crying, a penitent dampness with echoes elsewhere and nearer to home. Feelings fed by the sight of clean dark reddish line forming into tight ridges long ways across Mary’s curves.

From 12 or so the steady swish-thwack was accompanied by moaning sobs as Mary cried in earnest, this little more than a minute in. But not once did the girl move, not even after all 18 strokes had been administered.

“Alright, that’s enough. You can go with Katherine and she will put something on your behind,” Alice said at last.

“But Ma’am… don’t I…? I mean to say…” she glanced at the corner.

“Cut along,” Alice soothed gently.

To be continued.

12 Responses to “The Sinclair Method (Part 8)”

  1. 1 Michael

    DJ, am greatly enjoying your “The Sinclair Method.” It’s amazing how you give each character their own unique voice and keep everything so fresh. Brilliant work!
    I also love the Roger Benson illustration. When a naughty girl blushes at both ends it is so adorable.

  2. 2 paul1510

    it takes a girl with a good eye to lay the cane on properly, it seems that Alice is well qualified. 😉

  3. 4 Mimi

    With this method and Alice for a governess, any girl is bound to shape up 😉

  4. I’m thoroughly enjoying this story. Normally Benson’s art is a lot of fun, but that patched in face and gaudy color are a horror. I wish people would take more care when they’re altering art.

    • 6 DJ

      the gaudy coloured versions have been doing the rounds for a while now – I can’t remember the artist though.

  5. 7 cindy2

    Your story, DJ, is wonderful. In my mind’s eye I can visualize Mary developing the courage to ask for her punishment from Alice and then undress and present her bare bottom for what must be done to it. As you pointed out, at least one other girl pressed her thighs tightly together as she watched and listened to what was happening.

  6. 9 Sylvie

    I absolutely love the Sinclair Method.
    cindy… you were not the only one…. but I didn’t keep them tightly together 😉
    I hope there will be many more stories.
    Please Sir, may I have another?

  7. My favourite story of yours. Brilliant!

    Whilst I’m here…

    Thanks for posting some of my work in ‘community’ and headers for a few articles.

    If ever you want some photos doing, just ask. Free for you.

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