Our story began here.

So far it had been an ordeal of fire and water and Alice Bowman had never felt so clean, neither inside nor out. Nevertheless, she strained to be as stoical as she could but it was a futile attitude to take, for the whole point of Muriel Baxter’s chastisement regime was to break Alice down utterly. So the longer she took to surrender the worse her punitive experience would be. But nonetheless it was expected, that was the nature of the Sinclair Method. If she did not strive to endure then she would not fully benefit from her experience and ultimately neither would her girls.

Alice had stood in the corner of the woodshed for longer than she could gauge. With each passing minute she felt herself shrinking even as her tight hot bottom seemed to grow. In fact the searing throb in her behind gave her a sense that the straining ravaged rounds would burst at any minute, a fact that left her as much in respectful awe as cowed. It had been so long since she had been under Muriel’s close supervision and she had forgotten what an expert she was.

“We are not such a big important girl now, are we?” Muriel asked in maternal tones.

As she spoke she ran a gentle fingernail over Alice’s textured welted flesh and drawing a hiss from the woman.

“No Ma’am,” Alice gasped.

“You know that this is for your own good don’t you Alice?” Muriel purred.

Alice gulped and blinked hard into the wall.

“Yes Ma’am,” she said at last, “But… Mrs Stevens…” Her voice was close to cracking and it was all she could do not to cry again when she thought of her humiliation at the hands’ of the cook.

“Mrs Stevens has been invaluable in helping me take you down a peg or two. Just think how very much worse it would have been had I had to employ Katherine to help me,” Muriel said in a vaguely disapproving voice.

“Oh no Ma’am, I mean yes, thank you Ma’am,” Alice said hastily, her eyes bugging at the very thought.

“Hush now,” Muriel soothed. “Now we come to the main event,” she continued. “Next comes a good old fashioned American spanking.”

Alice gaped into the wall and then frowned. She might have expressed her puzzlement at such a relatively mild operation when Muriel picked something up from the bench in the corner of the woodshed.

“For that correction I shall employ a good old fashioned American paddle,” Muriel said crisply as she hefted the object.

Alice worked her throat and wished she could merge with the wall in front of her face.

“This one is of the sturdier punitive sorority paddles,” Muriel added, “Not one of those merely decorative affairs.”

“No Ma’am,” Alice said nervously, “I mean…”

“I know what you mean Alice; I know you are a good girl and wouldn’t argue.”

“No Ma’am,” Alice greed firmly. Heaven forbid; the dread thought came unbidden.

“Now with you heels together and your bottom uppermost I want you to bend over the saw horses there,” Muriel told her charge.

“Ooh, yes Ma’am,” Alice said apprehensively.

*

It took a while for Muriel to be satisfied that Alice was holding the right posture. To that end she had made Alice bend right over with her knees tucked under the cross plank of the saw horse. This served both to elevate her bare bottom to the highest point and to make it form an almost perfect tight sphere.

The position was both undignified and uncomfortable as the stretched skin was reignited with its earlier sting. But worse still was the waiting. As she held position the only sound in the room was her gentle breathing and the light tickle of the breeze in the trees beyond the woodshed.

“Are you ready Alice?” Muriel asked for the third time.

Alice let out along slow breath and nodded.

“Alice?” Muriel chided.

“Yes Ma’am,” Alice acknowledged.

The blast of the paddle was sudden and breath-stealing. For a moment Alice’s world hung on end and then what had been an unbearable fiery sting really tore into her.

“Yahhh,” Alice hissed and pumped her thighs.

The second swat was loud and Alice realised that she hadn’t even heard the first. It landed like hot iron placing sting upon burn and that too began to cook as it grew worse.

“Ooh-huh-eh-huh-eh-huh,” Alice sang as she tried to control her breathing and regulate the pain.

The third defied logic. Alice was sure it couldn’t get worse and that the sting was at maximum but the paddle was proving her wrong.

“Ooooooooh-mmmmm,” Alice grunted as she blinked hard and squirmed vigorously.

“Good girl,” Muriel said breezily, “You’re taking this well.”

Alice’s bottom, which had already been red beyond red, was momentarily reshaped as edged white welts bordered her curves and a real purplish hue flooded the crowns. Bruising was inevitable, but in skilled hands like Muriel’s no skin would be broken, although in short order the governess’s bottom would look twice its usual size.

The next three were placed over less than a minutes and Alice made a strange croaking sound in her throat. It took a moment, but Muriel realised that she was crying again. As well she might, the older woman thought, I know I would be.

Then two minutes later Alice had taken 12 and from nine she trembled and then broke to real bawling.

“That’s it, let it all out,” Muriel soothed and patted the girl’s shoulder.

Alice nodded miserably, but was grateful for the comfort.

“H-how, how many more Ma’am?” she woefully asked.

Muriel considered this, tapping the flat of the paddle on her hand as she pondered.

“If you were me, what would you give you?” she asked.

Alice swallowed. “I guess I’m just about done,” she said in a thick wet voice, “so if it were one of the girls I’d give at least another dozen.”

It was a true but terrifying admission and Muriel was in awe of Alice’s courage and honesty, a true Sinclair girl through and through. The golden rule was that a spanking didn’t really begin until the girl was finished.

“And what if it was a hardened but wayward governess?” Muriel pressed the spanked woman.

Alice swallowed hard again and steeled herself.

“Please Muriel, Ma’am, please I…” she wailed.

“How many?”

“T-twice that, maybe… maybe more,” Alice sobbed.

“And we have a winner,” Muriel said cheerfully s she landed another swat.

This time Alice did not hold back with her song of pain.

To be continued.