The Sinclair Method (part 22)
Our story began here.
Alice was panting hard and desperate to keep her composure. Her bottom ached and burned and was well beyond sore. The cherry stain that had taken hold was a close match for her red-rimmed eyes which leaked copiously down her face. She was not quite bawling and had so far managed not to cry out beyond the occasional gasp or grunt.
The hairbrush, which had paused in Katherine’s hands, began yet another series of impacts and a whine escaped Alice’s throat.
“Not again,” she muttered and tried to suck it up.
“Oh again,” Katherine told her; she sounded almost angry, “And again, and again,” her words matched the spanks which continued at a pace.
“I… oh God,” Alice groaned, like so many before her, desperate for a form of words to making the spanking stop. From long experience on both sides of the hairbrush, she knew there were none.
Mary worked her mouth in wonder and glanced for the 10th time at the clock. It was more than 25 minutes and counting, she was amazed that Katherine could spank so hard and long.
“Please, oh please,” Alice said thickly, her words wet and slurred.
Katherine remembered the flick and raised her arm to its upmost and then flicked her wrist as it came down in a gravity assisted power swat.
Alice cried out in earnest for the first time.
“Getting there are we?” Katherine spanked again.
“Yes,” Alice answered in a strained wail, this time there was a sob.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten the cane?” Katherine reminded her.
Alice gaped in true woe; she had. Then she broke.
Katherine glanced at the clock; it was two minutes off the half hour: as good a time as any to end this.
“Remember, Elizabeth Sinclair was English and they have a long tradition of the cane,” Katherine knew from a conversation they once had that the cane was Alice’s bête noir.
Alice nodded, bawling like a child and scarcely aware that the spanking was over.
Katherine put the brush down and patted her mentor on the shoulder. “Take your time, you needed that,” she whispered.
Alice sobbed hard but managed another nod.
Katherine waited until Alice had half composed herself.
“There we go,” she said, “Now into the corner with you. We will let the hour go by at least before you are caned.”
Alice bowed her head and sniffed. It had been so long. Perhaps too long, she thought. She was beginning to regret also writing to Muriel Baxter confessing her smoking sins. No doubt once her old guide and teacher was done with her, Alice would have fond memories of this afternoon.
It was hard to stand and her bottom burned like a son of a gun. She was also a bit shaky, but that was not as bad as the embarrassment of being sent to the corner by one of her recent charges. She had surrendered herself until sunrise the next day and she would stand by that. Damn fool.
The corner accepted her penitent vigil as it might any naughty girl, even one who had once served in the navy.
“My goodness Katherine, her bottom is so red,” Mary said in a tone of awe.
These words were enough to bring on more tears in Alice, although she almost felt better. Talk about a good cry, she ruefully thought.
“It is isn’t it,” Katherine agreed, “Maybe she needs longer in the corner to think about the cane so that we can study the splendid effect of a spanking. After all, we still have so much to learn.”
Mary giggled at this and Katherine joined her. Alice had to contend with a red hot face as well as bottom. Oh well, I guess I have it coming, Alice thought.
*
It had a while since Alice had been confined to the corner and the incessant burn at her bottom had given away to a tender ache. The discomfort of standing for so long too was beginning to be the more irksome and even the embarrassment was being overshadowed by the boredom. Katherine has learned well, Alice thought with a rueful subdued pride.
Alice thought about the cane and her stomach did a somersault, maybe she should be careful before wanting her corner time to end.
The knock at the kitchen door startled everyone. Katherine turned to answer it but it opened unbidden and in a strained male voice said, “Where do you want this?”
Alice knew true horror then and her eyes became saucers as she froze in place facing the wall.
The young man who staggered in with the box of supplies looked desperate to put them down and finally fixed up on the kitchen table while Katherine fluttered like a bird and wondered what to do. Mary just gaped and hand to mouth stood watching events as one might a car crash.
The woman who followed him they had seen before. The comely brunette in her late 30s was from real estate office that was re-letting the house now they were all going. Katherine struggled to remember her name as she impotently tried to block the young man’s view of Alice’s semi-nude state.
“I had to come this was so I gave young Lionel a ride,” the woman was saying as she entered, “It is further than I remember perhaps some coffee…” If she was to say more it died on her lips.
At the same moment the realty saw Alice, so did Lionel and if Alice’s eyes were wide, his were out on stalks. “Oh…” he blurted.
“We were just… I mean, I am just taking care of some housekeeping,” Katherine managed a semblance of composure.
“So I see,” the woman still gaped, one glove was off her hand and held in the other as she was frozen in the cation of removing it.
“Did you say you wanted some coffee?” Mary put in and moved to do the necessary. She was beginning to see the funny side.
Alice, who had so far not move a muscle, definitely did not and wondered if it were possible to die of embarrassment.
“Y-yes if… if…” Amid her surprise the real estate agent struggled to find words.
“Ma’am?” the young man, no more than 19 was still dumbstruck and although not entirely unappreciative, he did not know where to look.
“Lionel, go wait in the car,” the woman said at last as she came to herself.
Lionel took one last look at Alice’s exposed sore bottom and hastily fled.
“Coffee,” Mary said again with a smile once he had gone.
The woman dropped into a kitchen chair and managed a relaxed smile of her own. “My, you are strict around here.”
“We are, aren’t we Miss… I mean Alice?” Katherine agreed.
“Oh yes,” Alice said through gritted teeth.
“As a matter of fact we were about to finish up here,” Katherine continued, “Perhaps you would care to watch.”
“To see how it is done,” the woman beamed. “I would love to. I could probably do with some tips, my daughter thinks she is too old for a spanking these days.”
“I assure you she is not Mrs…?” Katherine replied.
“Kendal, but call me Emma, Miss…?” the woman smiled pleasantly.
“Anders, but call me Katherine,” Katherine told her. “This is Mary.”
Mary smiled politely and tried for all she as worth not to laugh out loud.
“Well isn’t this cosy?” Alice sighed glumly from her penitent corner.
Katherine addressed herself to the cane on the kitchen table and rolled it between her fingers. “I w3as going to take things into the study but we can do it here,” she said. “Miss Bowman, please turn around and come bend over the back of the chair.” As she spoke she pulled a kitchen chair away from under the table.
“Yes Miss Anders,” Alice mumbled; every nerve in her body a jangle and she still had gotten over the shock of the boy seeing her like this.
Alice kept her breathing even and walked with all the dignity she could muster towards the chair.
“Miss Bowman,” Emma Kendal gasped as she recognised her lead tenant for the first time, “Are you the… I thought…?”
“This not a revolution I assure you,” Katherine told her, “But as you see no one here is too old for some sound discipline. Miss Bowman included.”
“So I see,” Emma exclaimed, but amid the shock a small smile twitched on her lips.
Alice sucked in her cheeks to form a pout but the very vivid blush ruined the effect somewhat. She was almost happy to hide her face as she folded herself over the back of the chair and took firm hold of the seat.
“Quite a job you have done there,” Emma whistled in appreciation, “And if I may say so Miss Bowman, you have a nice undercarriage, it is almost a pity to exclude Lionel from the show.”
Alice felt her ears melt and scowled into the leather padded seat. She prayed Katherine wouldn’t invite the boy back in, not considering what else might be on show with her ‘undercarriage’ as this darn woman styled it.
“Say thank you Mrs Kendal,” Katherine prompted the now thoroughly humiliated governess.
“Thank you Mrs Kendal, I am sure,” Alice said bitterly.
“Alright then,” Katherine said perkily, “Heels together and bottom out Miss Bowman; remember you are a Sinclair girl.”
Alice complied, hating the presence of an outsider for this. However, she had to admit that Katherine hadn’t planned this and had handled it with dignity given the circumstances.
“That’s it,” Katherine said in a clipped voice and tapped the cane across Alice tight proffered bottom.
It did not go unnoticed that Emma Kendal shifted excitedly in her seat as she watched.
Mary too hugged herself in expectation. Despite her reluctance to punish her friend and mentor there was a certain sense of schadenfreude, revenge even for the situation.
“Ready?” Katherine asked the shamed woman.
“No,” Alice wailed.
The cane hissed as it cut the air and landed with a sharp thwack across Alice’s bare bottom. The deep red was for a moment marked with a clean white line before that swelled a little slowly turned maroon.
It took a moment for Alice to take a breath, but once she did she let out an undignified squeal.
“How many strokes are you going to give her?” Mrs Kendal politely asked.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Katherine replied but most of her attention was on Alice’s bottom and her tongue protruded a little in concentration. Then she caned again.
Alice twisted a little as her bottom bobbed up and down. The sharp white line stung like a bitch as its pale gave way to purple-red, nor was she given much time to process the pain as another stroke landed almost at once.
There was more to follow and Alice quickly became laboured in her breathing. The cane was worse than she remembered, damn the girl for learning it so well. Nevertheless, the governess was proud of her former trainee, albeit for the moment grudgingly so.
“My God, you are raising ridges like worms on that bottom,” Emma Kendal said in a shocked tone of admiration, “Worse than any switching I got from grandma and back in those days I usually couldn’t sit down for a week after.”
“A switching, you mean country style? I do I hope I have rather more finesse than that,” Katherine let her irritation show. “Maybe you should be next.”
Alice was crying again, although her composure remained. But she took the exchange between Katherine and the realty agent as an opportunity to get her breath back.
Emma Kendal sat opened mouthed, her gaze swinging from Alice’s bottom to Katherine’s steely gaze and back again.
“After all you did barge in here without an invitation,” Katherine continued.
Emma swallowed hard and pointed at the supplies still in their box on the table. “The boy…” she mumbled.
“Lionel had a reason to come in and at least he knocked,” Katherine replied and hefted the cane in her hand as if considering something.
“But I…” It was Emma’s turn to blush and she began to stammer. “Look maybe I’ll come back when it is more… I’ll go,” She stood up.
Mary choked down a laugh as the woman all but ran for the door. “I don’t think she’ll be back,” she said.
“If we stick around too long I might invite her over on the pretext of discussing her daughter,” Katherine said with an evil grin.
Alice coughed. She had recomposed herself and felt very exposed bending over a chair with her bare and very sore bottom sticking up in the air
“Sorry Alice, where were we?” Katherine lined up for another stroke.
“I counted 15 or there about,” Alice said in a voice dripping with dread.
“About 15, you say? You don’t seem sure,” Katherine said thoughtfully, “Let us call it 12, that allows for another dozen,” adding, “A baker’s dozen I think.”
“Oh God,” Alice groaned and braced herself.
*
Alice winced as she chased the last mouthful of food around the plate. It was awkward standing at the dining room mantle to eat, but sitting at the table was completely out of the question for the moment.
At the table with Mary, Katherine eyed the vivid ‘scars’ that temporarily marred her mentors bare bottom and screwed up her face in sympathy. “That looks sore,” she said with a tone of regret.
“Don’t go soft on me now young lady,” Alice scolded her as she half-turned from her meal, “Or I shall spank you. I had it coming and you did just what the doctor ordered.”
Katherine half laughed and bit her lower lip. She wondered if she should remind Alice that until the following morning Alice was still under discipline and such impertinence could earn the governess another trip across her knee. No doubt Alice would appreciate the irony, but Katherine decided to let it go.
“What will Mrs Baxter say about you smoking when she gets the letter?” Mary asked.
Alice frowned and returned a childish pout. “It is not so much what she will say, but what she will do. If you think this is bad you should see what I am in for. I may not sit down for a month.”
“Then why…?” Mary gaped.
“I believe in standards and sometimes a girl needs a good spanking,” Alice sighed.
“And birching,” Mary chuckled, thinking back a few days and the faint traces still on her own bottom.
“And caning,” Katherine said huskily with a lick of her lips. She had enjoyed caning Alice and wished now she had been more severe.
“Then there is the good old paddle,” Mary offered ruefully.
“The Canadian prison strap is always fun,” Katherine said without conviction.
Mary looked horrified and shuddered.
“Yes, yes, I felt them all and probably will again after a refresher with Mrs Baxter,” Alice groaned.
“Do you… I mean… getting a spanking… do you sort of… like it?” Shy Mary was back.
“Do you?” Alice asked the girl.
Mary blushed and studied her plate for the answer. “Sometimes a little,” she confessed, “Just over the knee, I mean,” she added hastily. “The birch was beastly.”
“I think I know what you mean,” Katherine agreed, “But I think I may enjoy things from the other side rather more.”
“I guess,” Mary sounded uncertain, “But I want to give something back. I mean, I was so lost before and Miss Bowman I have to say this, thank you. You put me on the right track with an application of hairbrush right where it did the most good.”
“Here, here,” Katherine said toasting the all with a glass of water from the table. “Thank you.”
Alice turned, incongruously naked form the waist down, and raised her own glass. “No, thank you, I am so proud.”
“To a good sound spanking,” Mary said enthusiastically and stood up to raise her own glass.
“Bottoms up,” Katherine said before exploding into laughter, as did they all.
*
They were packed and ready, even Alice’s trunk with the canes and paddles. The cab would be there soon and then they would take one last ride together to the railways station.
“No doubt we will meet again,” Alice said with a dour smile.
“I am counting on it,” Katherine gushed, “You will be my mentor won’t you?”
Alice smiled more warmly and nodded. “But I warn you, you had better had been a saint when we next meet or someone is going right across my knee.”
“I am counting on that too,” Mary admitted with a shy smile.
Katherine frowned and gathered herself to ask something. “Alice, you never did answer Mary’s question?”
“Do I enjoy getting a spanking?” Alice went straight to the point.
Katherine nodded. Mary was listening intently now.
Alice looked thoughtful and looked off into the middle distance. Then she said, “I like the idea of it, I like the challenge of it, and once I have been spanked I feel clean, shiny and new. But at the time, when it is about to happen for real and certainly when I am getting it… oh no,” she winced.
“Yes I think I feel the same,” Katherine said wistfully.
“And what about giving a spanking?” Mary asked mischievously.
Alice glanced at her watch, “Do you think I have time to give Mary a spanking?” she asked Katherine.
Mary blushed and gaped at them.
“Oh I think so,” Katherine said in faux seriousness.
“Oh come on…” Mary backed away.
“I think my hairbrush is to hand,” Alice said crisply.
“Here use mine,” Katherine said with an evil grin and handed Alice her brush.
Alice took it and sat down on her trunk and patted her lap.
“Not here,” Mary exclaimed. “The driver will see when he comes.”
Alice shrugged and patted her lap again. “The house is locked up.”
“Please Miss Bowman I was only asking, I…” Mary protested all the way to Alice barely aware that she was surrendering herself.
As tipped over Alice’s lap her skirt proved lose enough to flip up and in quick succession her panties came down and she was bare-bottomed across Alice lap.
“This is the bitter end,” Mary wailed.
“Indeed,” Alice agreed and began to spank Mary’s bare bottom.
“You’re loving it,” Katherine teased, beside herself with glee.
“Ow, I’m not,” Mary wailed.
“Then I must be doing it wrong,” Alice chuckled and spanked harder and faster.
End
Filed under: DJB stories, F/F, retro, spanking, spanking stories | 1 Comment
Tags: 1950s, sinclair method, spanking
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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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