Weekly Round-Up

03Jun13

spankingotk spanking Dallas spanks Well it is summer (looks expectantly out of the window) the sun is there (somewhere above the clouds) and the birds are singing. So what does the first round-up of the season bring and what can we expect this coming week?

There is more trouble with witches in Magic and the Spankmanship story is unfolding.

Last week other blogs were active. Yahoo buying Tumblr has some peeps concerned and the formerly open blog site maybe ‘cleaning’ up its act. So maybe some blogs will disappear, but don’t panic just yet.

Elsewhere we kick off with a plug for Rollin who has recently published the Mills Governess on Blushing Books. I have flagged Rollin Hand many times before and he has quite a back catalogue.

On the picture front, above we have Dreams of Spanking, a My Spanking Roommate plug on Cutie Pie, Dallas Spanking Dazey rains via the Spanking Spot and if you want more Cherry Red has a list.


School dazeTipTopper sent in the above picture and it put me in mind of a couple of related, but unconnected snippets I had.

This was culled from a 1920s education review that I found on Google Reader some time ago.

Catherine C wrote:

“…An education revolution it has been said, but I can tell you our training was well grounded in the old world. Miss Marion P and I were well used to feeling the sting of a cane across our behinds in training college. However, I did not expect to be summoned to Mr Neville’s office to be dressed down over our leisure time activities. He even showed us the cane and reminded us that as we were not yet qualified awe were still subject to student discipline.”

One wonders if Marion and Catherine were ever caned as student teachers.

This next excerpt came from FemFirst.

Gwen wrote:

“In my early days as a teacher I was still living at home. This had its advantages and without the financial support I could never have afforded a car for instance. But it is strange to think that while I was writing out punishment slips for the Dean my own bottom often still smarted from a spanking I had gotten the night before. On one occasion I was in such discomfort that not only could I not sit down, but I was certain that some of the most observant of my class suspected the cause of my embarrassment.”


Story reviews

31May13

book reveiwI received a decent email from Paul D last week who offered his own review of some of my recent publications. It is nice to be appreciated, especially when someone parts with some money.

Hot on the heels of this mail, came a very nice review of the Russell Corner over at Blossom and Thorn. Thanks to them for their kind words. You can read the review here.

Paul’s comments came in this letter:

Hallo Damian,

I have just finished a reading fest of DJ Black.

The Lanark Island Herald. ***

The Academy. *****

The Life and Times of Rachel Bannerman. *****

I’m not by any means saying that ‘The Lanark Island Herald’ is badly written. In my opinion it feels somewhat truncated, two or three chapters of Mary’s experience as “part of the family”, would have rounded it off nicely.

This novella is only three stars, by your own high standards.

I loved ‘The Academy’, it appealed to my testosterone driven youth; a dystopia/utopia where woman outnumber men 4/5 to 1, wow a teenagers dream. Winking smile

It is very well crafted with a few interesting plot twists to keep me on my toes; I particularly liked the scene between Julia and her Grandpa, and the one where Candy was rejected by her not very nice boss. I also enjoyed Felix, very much.

The Life and Times of Rachel Bannerman,” a cowboy story with plenty of attitude, not to mention a full crop of bare bums very well spanked.

What’s not to love about hoity-toity Eastern girls learning the ropes via their bottoms, John Wayne certainly advocated this system. Rachel’s last thought was very telling.

Finally, the eroticism was not overt, though there was most definitely an undercurrent, in all of these, in my opinion, just as it should be.

Best regards,

Paul.

Incidentally the one book not reviewed above, Lizzie Baines, is apparently outselling the others – especially in the US where the publisher tells me it is housewife’s choice.

Thanks Paul, Season and Michael for your words.


defiant biker girlspanked biker Bikers, motorcycle clubs and the whole female submission thing is something that I have come across off and on for years. It has always fascinated me, but at the same time the open sexism, occasional misogyny and even criminality has tempered my erotic curiosity somewhat.

Now it is important to stress that not all bikers (or even most) are sexist, misogynistic criminals. Nor do I believe do most motorcycle clubs endorse such lifestyles. Most countryside cafés (in the UK anyway) are overladen with often overweight bearded gentlemen and their fair ladies who are just weekend bikers with taxpaying jobs.

But these gentlefolks, (sorry guys) are not the ones that interest most people.

In 1947 the American Motorcyclist Association described 98 per cent of all bikers as being law-abiding citizens. Hence implying that one per cent of them were not and ever since some clubs on the fringes of society have often described themselves as ‘Two Percenters.’

During my youth in the semi-rural English Home Counties (the populated rich bit that surrounds London) I had the fascinating if dubious honour of working with a biker from one of the more ‘adventurous’ chapters of a famous US-based motorcycle club. He had been given the choice of ‘get or job or go to gaol.’

Now these guys were often in prison a lot and not just for not paying their speeding fines.

They tended to colonise certain country pubs, the kind your Dad did not turn a blind eye to you visiting, but which were perfectly safe if you watched your Ps and Qs. Safer in fact than many town pubs full of Muppets looking for a fight.

I stumbled across my work mate in a Cider House on the Straight Mile. He was surrounded by big hairy blokes all at least 10 years older than me and all with at least two presentable girls each – if you overlooked the tattoos.

These were ‘maybe don’t look and definitely don’t touch sort’ of lassies. So we didn’t.

He acknowledged me with the sort cool nod that came right out of the movies and then made it clear that I shouldn’t join him by looking away. So I didn’t.

But I did have tacit approval to hang in the ‘club house’ rather than the ‘civilian’ lounge bar and check out the bikers without (much) fear of provoking an unwelcome response.

This was not quite Sons of Anarchy territory (not quite), but the clubs usual boss was serving at Her Majesty’s pleasure for murdering a rival club member. So it was probably more dangerous than I then realised.

‘My friend’ had already told me that during ‘meets’ girls were queuing up to be selected as temporary or second girlfriends for the guys. These were Gothic-haired creatures with jeans cut down to thongs and all curves, the kind of lady who turns a 17-year-old’s brain to mush.

I had been given some biker magazines that read more like porn than mechanics. They were full of letters and short stories that featured submissive women who got spanked. I mean more than one reference per magazine and more than one magazine.

I had trolled dozens of men’s magazines for just one spanking story before then.

I came across a girl who told a story about being ‘Owned and Operated’ by her man. It was the heading on a long letter where she expressed her ‘pride’ at having a man who knew how to handle her and admitted that she was spanked, belted and sometimes whipped by him. She even said that her and other biker’s girls traded stories and compared welts. Taking pride in how had the sorest behind.

The woman in the story had had ‘owned and operated’ tattooed down the crack of her arse ending at her anus with arrows pointing the way.

Whilst in this pub I saw a woman (maybe 30-years-old) who had this legend tattooed down her thigh. Of course all sorts of things were ignited in my brain; these were real girls. I had to ask.

The next day at work the biker told me that it was a term used by wives and permanent girlfriends. No other girl would dare have it with being entitled, so of course it was a source of pride.

I asked about the punishments. I was a bit coy about the S-word back then. After that there was some tension and I thought I had overstepped the mark somewhat. Then he realised I wasn’t interested in club activities as such.

“You mean when they get their arses tanned?” He thought I might mean something else more sinister.

He laughed and said that was just par for the course and all girls got that when they needed it.

I wish I could say that I was invited to a biker party where all the girls were spanked, but shortly afterwards he was sacked and I sussed that there were better places to hang out.

But some years later I was watching a late night documentary about American bikers and they interviewed a woman who had an Owned and Operated tattoo on her belly extended down and out of sight. She obliged the camera by showing most of it and then explained to the journalist what it meant.

She too used the word pride and explained that her home life was no different to any one else’s. She talked about the virtues of domestic discipline and spanking as a tool for a happy life.

“And it can be sexy too sometimes,” she grinned.

I have no idea to this day whether this is a genuine universal custom or a random coincidence that plays upon the general preconceptions and prejudices around motorcycle clubs. But since then I have heard other stories about legal clubs and spanking, with initiations for girls and hints of spanking discipline. Sadly I have no further insight on this.

Incidentally the pictures above are genuine period biker pictures that display the defiant nature and alternative lifestyles of some bikers. You will note the tread marks and bruises on the bottom of the girl in the second photograph.


waitingThe clock was ticking like the counterweight would break free of its housing and spill onto the floor. It was getting on her nerves at any rate. Then every 15 minutes it made another racket with bells and chimes all screaming at her that the appointed time was getting nearer.

All the while the sun which had started the day so nicely, with soft yellow light in a window-shaped puddle on the floor, had grown. It had turned an angry red as the afternoon progressed and was now even visible below the top of the glass as a great red fearsome eye accusing her of her sins.

In the hours that had passed the toilet down the hall had been graced by her presence far too often and not just for the usual. Twice she had been almost sick, the butterflies clawing at her tummy.

I am too old for this, she asserted impotently to herself, I am over 30 now and when he gets home I’ll tell him. That’s it, she decided.

She swallowed the lie and sat heavily on the settee while she still could.

She longed for his arms and folded her own around herself like a safety blanket and rocked back and forth for the scant comfort.

Why don’t I learn? Why didn’t I…? On and on around her head she cursed her folly. If only I could have one more chance…

“I won’t do it again Daddy,” she rehearsed over in her mind.

Daddy? Why did she call him that? He wasn’t her father. Who called their husbands daddy?

The thought was unworthy and she felt sick again. It was like a denial of Christ, she chided herself. Just because it was their secret didn’t mean… She didn’t know and rocked back and forth on the settee to think of a way out of it.

What was she afraid of? Didn’t he always take care of things? Hadn’t he always? Well he would fix this alright, the same way as he always did, but that was no comfort now. Her bottom itched as she thought on how he would resolve the matter.

How did she come to let him spank her in the first place? When had it even started?

Let him? She managed a smile. No one let Daddy do anything. He was a force of nature.

That first time, that first day so long ago…

He had been a grown up and had ordered a cognac on their first date. She felt like a waif or numpty girl next to him. She had been so shy.

“You were late,” he had said.

She was always late. All the boys knew that. All the boys waited for her.

“I’m so sorry,” she had stuttered.

Now why had she said that?

“Don’t be late again or I will spank you for it,” he had said sternly and as easily as he had ordered the cognac.

The waiter even heard him, she was sure of it. And the woman at the next table, but she only smiled. Was that envy in her eyes?

She should have slapped his face right then, but instead she shushed him and blushed.

“Don’t think I am joking young lady,” he had said in a cross voice, “I can always spank you here and now, in front of everyone right on your bare bottom.”

She had gaped and then shrunk back into her seat. Why didn’t she leave? She had thought then.

Instead she had blurted, “Not here.”

That day she would have done anything to take that back. It was an admission of surrender. She could have died.

“Alright,” he had conceded somewhat mollified, “There is a bench in the car park behind the restaurant. That will serve until I get you home.”

You cannot die of embarrassment. She knew that for a fact. If it were at all possible she would have died then and there.

The waiter had smirked and several people at tables had abandoned all pretence of not listening and had laughed openly.

Part of her had hoped Daddy had been joking, not that she called him that then. Part of her had prayed that he was not, but that was a mystery to her then. She was so embarrassed.

The cognac finished and the bill paid they had departed as any other couple. Their exit via the car park was not unusual nor was the slow approach to the bench at the far side. But her heart pounded all the way to it.

Sure enough once there he had tumbled her easily over his lap and drawn up her skirts.

“Please,” she had squealed, but even to her own ears it might have been ambiguous.

It had been a warm night and the swish of cool silk on her thighs as he drew down her scanties had been sensuous.

She was bare-bottomed across the knee of man she hardly knew in semi-public. Why hadn’t she protested more?

A glance at the roof garden of the restaurant across the way confirmed that the waiter had heard. He must have been on tip-toes to watch them. Her face had melted.

The spanking had been hard and sharp. She never knew how many car owners had seen and heard her.

“You won’t be late for Daddy again will you?” he had scolded her.

“No Daddy,” she had promised as he stung her bottom.

That had been the first time.

She had broken that promise many times since and he had spanked her every time.

Now what she had done was far worse. She glanced at the clock. He would be here soon.

But she promised, after today, she would never be naughty again. This would be her last spanking. corner time


Weekly Round-up

27May13

spanked OTK cheey spanked OTK nudeHow is everyone on this fine (very) Bank Holiday Monday? Two bank holidays in one month; doesn’t anyone in the UK work on Monday anymore?

Summer is just around the corner and in London it finally looks like it.

This week we have a cartoon from Stan, a cheeky picture from Devlin O’Neil, Brandi spanked on About Spankings and a rather comely young lady from All Things Spanking.

Next Sunday is the London Alternative Market.

Blossom and Thorn have a new Book Club.

For new blogs visit My Bottom Smarts.

And if you want more news check out Cherry Red.


cowboy and porchSammie liked the place as soon as she saw it. It was the kind of house you saw in movies and the hometown cosy feel all along the tree-lined road had broken through her hard LA cynicism like balm for the soul. Not that she would ever admit it, perhaps not even to herself.

The couple who strolled onto the porch were not what she was expecting either. They were young and cool looking. She was at most a young 30 with long well groomed dark hair and looked like someone that belonged in a magazine. He was a little older with short sandy hair and a square jaw that held his easy smile like it never knew a frown. She was put in mind of the Marlboro Man, although this cowboy looked too smart to mess with cigarettes.

The c-word made her wince and was just one of the many reasons she was here.

As the car pulled to a halt the cool cowboy stepped from the porch and extend his arm with natural largesse.

“Aunt Aggie,” he grinned.

“Oh don’t, you make me feel old,” Sammie’s mother simpered.

Sammie rolled her eyes up at the lame exchange as an opener for getting back into character.

“Nonsense, you sophisticated city-types never get old,” he teased, “And anyway we are practically the same age.”

Sammie rolled up her eyes again, this was so lame. She knew her mother was at least six years older than her great nephew Dhenry. Dhenry, what kind of name was that anyway?

“This is Samantha, your… cousin, sort of? I never remember how it works,” Sammie’s mother offered hesitantly.

“Cousin will do fine Aggie, after all I can’t really call an 18-year-old my aunt can I?”

“She wouldn’t be your aunt anyway honey,” the long-haired woman said, coming forward.

“I’m almost 20 you dork.” Sammie muttered under her breath.

Aggie glared at her daughter, but Dhenry appeared not to hear.

“This is Kathy,” he said introducing his wife.

“Kathy,” Aggie said enthusiastically and took her hand.

Sammie folded her arms in defiance to the world.

“Samantha,” Aggie said in a tight voice, “Come and say hello.”

Sammie rolled her eyes up for the third time in as many minutes and heaved a sigh like she had just been asked to walk home on a wet day in January. Then she threw her long suntanned legs out of the car sideways and without unfolding her arms came to an upright position.

“The spit of her mother, with the same red hair and pretty too,” Kathy said with a warm smile as she offered Sammie her hand.

“Give me a break,” Sammie muttered, “My hair is washed out ginger and everyone knows it. And the only pretty one here is you.”

“Thanks… I guess, but you’re pretty too you know,” Kathy said uncomfortably.

Pretty lame, Sammie lied to herself for amusement, which showed on her face as a smirk.

“Young lady if you don’t amend your attitude…” Aggie said in a threatening tone.

Sammie went for a fourth eye-rolling.

“I can see we are going to have our work cut out for us with this one,” Dhenry chuckled.

“Look I am so grateful for taking her in like this,” Aggie said in a weary voice admixed with relief.

“It really is our pleasure, besides, what are families for?” Dhenry reassured her. “What was the beef with the courts anyway? I heard she was cleared…?”

“They never even pressed charges,” Aggie said quickly, “She was just a material witness, but there are some issues that came to light and… well the court said she could not reside within 50 miles of the city…”

“And you have your job… of course,” Dhenry said calmly.

“I don’t know anyone 50 miles from LA and there is no way she is setting up house on her own at the moment. As for family, there are only you or your Aunt Margaret in Boise…”

“Talk about me as if I am not here why don’t you?” Sammie said belligerently.

Aggie had never felt more embarrassed and that was saying something given the number of police stations and courts she had attended with Sammie in the last few months.

“I am rather afraid I took my eye off the ball since Tom left… Fiji, I ask you, he was always such a dreamer. You know his girlfriend is only… sorry,” she sighed, “It’s not his fault. My work has been… anyway it is out of my hands for the moment.”

“Hello,” Sammie said in a surly voice, “I am still here.”

“Excuse me,” Aggie said abruptly, “There is something that needs my urgent attention.”

With some sixth sense Sammie’s ears pricked up, but it was too late to flee. Aggie grabbed her daughter’s arm and without breaking step marched towards the porch with her daughter in train.

“Mom, come on, I’m sorry I…” Sammie whined.

Aggie didn’t speak but availing herself of a bench on the house’s veranda she sat down and hauled her half-struggling daughter across her knee.

“N-not here, come on,” Sammie gaped, her face colouring sharply.

The denim shorts were a struggle, but Aggie was fast becoming an expert and in a moment they were going south to meet Sammie’s ankles.

Before the girl could react her mother hooked a thumb in the band of her panties and they too joined the shorts.

“Mom,” Sammie gasped, “Please.”

For a moment Aggie lamented the fact that she didn’t have the hairbrush to hand, but needs must… she thought and brought her hand sharply down on the bare seat of her daughter.

“Omigod,” Sammie gasped, but the spank was the first of many.

The spanking was sound enough, but it was more of a marker against future behaviour and although Sammie’s bottom was red, the girl was more embarrassed than stung by the time she was set on her feet.

“Now Samantha, do you want to go to Aunt Margaret’s or stay here?” Aggie barked at her by now meek daughter.

“Here,” Sammie said in a small voice.

“Right, then mind your manners while your elders talk. Now face that wall there until you are told to move.

Sammie made to pull up her shorts but was told to leave them with a bark.

“If she gives you any trouble, you have my full permission to spank her,” Aggie said wearily. “And make it count; these days she is used to far more. Something we just got around to lately.”

“Oh I think we can manage that,” Dhenry said pointedly glancing at his wife.

Kathy blushed and sucked in her cheeks, a response that was not missed by Aggie who smirked a little. The older woman remembered just how Dhenry and Kathy handled their marriage.

“Did you hear that Samantha?” Aggie said in a scolding voice.

“Yes, ooh,” Sammie bit her lower lip.

Dhenry was surprised at the transformation. She just needs to be away from LA and the whole sin city routine for a while, he decided.

“I’m sorry for her attitude, but it has been a long drive. Not that I am making excuses…” Aggie said with a sigh.

“Aggie, we get it, no need to explain. I am sure that Sammie and I will get on like a house on fire as soon as she learns the rules.

“House on fire, eh, just don’t let her play with any matches,” Aggie said ruefully and glancing back at her daughter facing the wall on the porch. “She can stay there until it gets dark.”

“That’s in about 40 minutes and by then supper will be ready anyway,” Kathy put in.

On the porch Sammie groaned and shifted from side to side in irritation, but knew better than to complain.

*

Sammie had been with Dhenry and Kathy for about a week and had yet to settle in. The day after her mother had left, Dhenry had given her a pile of community college pamphlets with the pronouncement, “It’s that or you get a job.”

She had considered answering back, if only to test his resolve in disciplinary matters, but he had eyes like the chief cop who had arrested her and so far she had funked it.

The other thing Sammie couldn’t figure was the whole place, both house and town. It was a complete dump by LA standards. The TV was out of the Ark and they had no cable.

“Not a great package huh?” she had said when she had been told.

“Eh no, we have no package, zilch, nada, no cable,” Dhenry had explained.

Then she had been told that the house was a smoke free zone and that included the porch.

“I don’t smoke,” Sammie had said quickly.

Dhenry had given her a hard look then until she had been forced to look away.

“We don’t tolerate lies here either. I know perfectly well your mother has forbidden you to smoke, but you do it anyway, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. You’re 19 and what you do in town is your own affair; within reason that is,” he had scolded her.

Shifting uncomfortably and to change the subject Sammie had asked, “About town, what do you do here anyway? You’re not actually a cowboy are you?”

“Cowboy?” he laughed, displaying one of his sudden mood swings she was to get to know so well, “No, I am not any kind of a cowboy. I am the town sheriff.”

Sammie’s jaw had hit the floor; she could see why her mother had kept back that particular titbit of information.

“Kathy is the head librarian in town,” he continued, “No cowboys here.”

“I am one of two librarians,” Kathy put in, “I just happen to be senior. Just as Dhenry here is chief of police in town, but only has three deputies.”

“Rub it in why don’t you?” Dhenry growled good-naturedly, giving Kathy a swat on the tail.

The swat was something that occurred a lot between them and not always in such good humour, Sammie had noticed. It took her that first week to find out why.

Their home was big and solid and Sammie had been given a large cool room above the garage in a wing away from the main part of the house. It was all angles with alcoves so that her bed was out of sight of the desk and she could pretend it was an apartment. This not only afforded Sammie some privacy but as she suspected kept her out of their hair.

But with no real TV and only a magazine she had already read twice, Sammie decide to snoop.

On her first foray she found a paddle, a cane and an antique hairbrush on the dresser with pristine bristles on one side and devoid of varnish on the other. The third item she might have missed but for the first two and the fact that her mother had one like for much the same reason, if Sammie’s guess was correct.

There were also some books with suggestive titles like Sweet Surrender and Her Master’s Voice along with a copy of the Story of O, but they were clearly Kathy’s and on Dhenry’s shelf were car mechanic books and text books on law and law enforcement.

Her second reconnoitre came as a result of the sounds of an argument. Sammie was keen to know that Mr and Mrs Perfect weren’t so and at the back of her mind she was curious about how this might get resolved given her earlier discoveries. She wasn’t disappointed.

By the time she got to the landing where their room was, a spanking was already well under way.

The door to their room had been left open and by hanging back she could see that Dhenry had Kathy over his knee with her denims and panties down at her ankles. Her bottom was already a mean red, but Dhenry was putting the hairbrush to her like he was only just getting started.

“So you forgot to do the laundry,” Dhenry was saying in a hard but calm voice as he swatted away. “It’s no big deal, but don’t bitch to me about it and make it a problem.”

“But you have no clean shirt,” Kathy wailed.

“So why is that my fault?” he growled.

“It’s not I… ow, I was embarrassed and got mad… ah, sorry Sir, I’m sorry.” Kathy’s breathing was ragged and there were already tears in her voice.

This is neat-o, Sammie thought, but her schadenfreude was tempered by concern for Kathy’s bottom. It had got to the hard welty stage where the flesh had become shocked and swollen. Sammie knew herself that it was a hard gig; this from her own experience on the day after she had been arrested.

Dhenry then proved that he was strict and would tolerate no attitude or deflected guilt from his wife. The spanking, which was already sound enough, took on a new tempo and did not end for some minutes. Long before he was done Kathy was bawling like a teen and hugging into him for respite.

“Right young lady, you can put yourself in that corner and don’t move until… well don’t move,” Dhenry barked.

“Yes Sir,” Kathy sobbed.

Sammie watched in amazement as the 30-year-old woman, still hobbled by her jeans and panties, limped carefully to the corner and put her nose meekly to the wall.

“Dhenry,” she said in a muffled voice.

“Yes,” he replied archly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Dhenry.”

“Yes,” he said impatiently.

“Can you close the door in case…?” she swallowed, “In case… you know… Sammie…”

Dhenry chuckled and said, “Maybe this time, but she is going to find out.”

“I know,” Kathy whispered to someone very far away.

Then Dhenry moved across the room and Sammie dropped back in a panic, but he shut the door without looking up the landing.

Close call Sammie thought and then as carefully as she had come crept back to her room, her heart pounding. Her dad had always been easy going and spankings had been few and far between back home. I guess Dhenry is cut from a different cloth, she thought, and gulped.

*

Throughout breakfast Sammie couldn’t help stealing pointed glances at Kathy. And when the older woman visibly winced as she eased onto her seat at the table, Kathy noticed Sammie watching and blushed.

“You heard what happened last night didn’t you?” Kathy whispered after Dhenry had rolled out the door to mount his SUV with all the show of a cowboy sheriff of old.

Sammie coloured a little and shrugged.

“I wasn’t sure what I was hearing so I snuck down,” she said in an uncomfortable voice, “I saw through the door.”

“You were snooping before that weren’t you?” Kathy said with a blush.

Sammie nodded.

“Busted,” she said, “You gonna tell Dhenry?”

“What do you think he’d do if I did?” Kathy asked as she shifted uncomfortably and folded her arms.

Sammie sucked in a breath that she didn’t release but just stood there with her mouth open and blanched.

“Spanking, paddling, switching are age old traditions around here and Dhenry takes them to heart, we both do,” Kathy said gently, “You are a long way from LA here. I need to know if I have a viper in the nest or just a lost girl who gets it.”

“How do you mean?” Sammie was conscious of the awkward void between her and the older woman.

“I mean sooner or later we are both going to get blistered behinds while the other is around, and that means you brat-girl, LA know-all or not. So, are we going to be friends?” Kathy shook off her discomfort and rounded on the younger woman.

“I don’t know,” Sammie looked at her shoes, “I get it I guess and… I’d like to be your friend.”

“So, what do you think Dhenry would do if I told him you were snooping around our stuff and spying on us?” Kathy’s eyes danced back and forth as if she was willing a right answer from her young cousin-in-law.

“Spank me I guess,” Sammie mumbled and kicked at her shoe without looking up.

“And how do you feel about that?” Kathy pressed her.

“I-I… my Dad was kinda soft… Mom tries but I guess I got too grown-up too fast for her… I guess I kinda got it coming sometimes. I mean I sometimes wish my Dad had pushed back… well you know… kinda,” Sammie mumbled through the speech without looking up until the end. “You gonna tell him?”

“No, I think your snooping aided your education somewhat,” Kathy smiled visibly more relaxed, “Let’s keep it between us, but if I find you have been spying on me getting… well then you can kiss your bee-hind goodbye.”

“Deal,” Sammie grinned.

“Now after you help me with the dishes I’ll drive us both in to town and you can check out courses and the small ads at the library,” Kathy chivvied her.

*

It had rained all morning and the library was busier than usual. Several of the foul-weather readers who had taken refuge from the inclemency outside were somewhat noisy and there had been several complaints from the regulars.

Among the newcomers was Sammie, who was fast making new friends in and around the Main Street coffee shop. She had even secured a part-time job there after Dhenry had called in a favour. A lot of the kids in town were impressed that Sammie knew the cute and cool sheriff, especially the girls and Sammie was quickly becoming popular.

“Will you girls be quiet,” Kathy scolded the small group of young women in the corner for the third time that morning.

“What are you going to do? Fine us?” Rosemary Tailor, one of Sammie’s new friends sneered.

The others giggled, all except Sammie who blushed.

Kathy gave her a hard stare before rounding on the others.

“I could speak to your mother and yours Josephine Samuels, I see you there, I know what she would do,” Kathy said sharply.

Josephine and another girl Kathy didn’t know glowed red like traffic stop lights while Rosemary mouthed a silent mimic of the Head Librarian’s words. But all the same she fell to whispers as Kathy gave Sammie a warning look and then moved away.

“Hey look,” Rosemary gushed as soon as Kathy was out of earshot, “They have some sex books.”

The four girls dropped the magazines they had been reading and moved over to the shelf to look.

“The Art of Fellatio,” Josephine giggled, picking up the book.

Sex for Beginners,” Rosemary guffawed.

Then Josephine squealed in delight as she grabbed a book emblazoned with the legend: “Spanking, a disciplinary manual.”

Sammie felt a strange head rush and gaped as she coloured. She wasn’t the only one, Lucy another new girl in town went bright pink as she stared wide-eyed at the pictures and title headings on the pages that Josephine flipped over.

Sammie took it from her with something approaching reverence as the two more raucous young women fixed on some Chinese pillow books. But she noticed that Lucy still had her eyes glued to the book so she hastily put it back on the shelf lest she show undue interest.

Further along there were art books with nude men as well as women and it was these that quickly grabbed their interest. Then Rosemary found a Mapplethorpe and the girls dissolved into laughter.

“Oh gross,” Rosemary said in a loud voice, her usual default setting.

“Will you girls be quiet, I won’t tell you again,” Kathy shushed them.

While Rosemary made another show of defiance Sammie seized her chance and whirled around and slipping away to the other shelf, she grabbed the book about spanking. She reasoned that she couldn’t very well borrow it openly and it would be easier enough to return; what did it matter if she didn’t actually check it out?

“If you girls can’t be quiet I’ll have to ask you to leave. I might even exclude you for a month and then I will tell your parents,” Kathy said wearily.

“What are we, kids? We are not in high school now,” Rosemary spat back.

But the others shushed her and each for their own reasons began to move away.

Just then Dhenry came in hoping to take Kathy to lunch.

“You girls causing some mayhem?” he said in his best paternal voice.

All four girls blushed; Josephine and Rosemary even fluttered their eyelashes.

“No Sir,” they giggled.

“Hi Sammie, how is your course hunting going? And anyway, shouldn’t you be at work?” Dhenry said.

“Oh eh, hi… it’s okay… I don’t work today,” Sammie stuttered.

Under his hard eyes, his smile was easy, but a slight frown touched his brow as looked them over. Maybe it was just the innocent guilt of meeting the law but all four shifted uneasily and backed away towards the door even as they continued to giggle.

One step beyond the barrier the alarm sounded.

“Hold up there,” Dhenry called over, he could see at once the look of panic that marred Sammie’s face.

The girls looked bored as they rolled their eyes up at the checkout desk; everyone but Sammie that was. She wondered if she looked as sick as she felt.

Kathy quickly searched their bags, puzzled at the lack of evidence. Then she saw Sammie’s face and the fact that Dhenry had already singled her out for attention. Oh Sammie, what have you done, she thought?

As Kathy looked in Sammie’s bag she saw at once what the issue was. She hastily swiped it with the barcode reader without removing it and then quickly stamped it.

“You must have forgotten,” she said quickly.

Dhenry leaned forward at grabbed the bag before she could close it and stole a glance. He exchanged a look with Kathy.

“Must have,” Dhenry said in a growl.

The others missed it, but Sammie wanted the ground to open up and swallow her down to hell.

“I’ll talk to you later young lady,” Dhenry said quietly.

*

Sammie didn’t quite know what to expect. The embarrassment of being caught with an erotic book was quite bad enough but her immediate emotion had been one of relief that Kathy had quietly validated it instead of causing a scene. Now that she made her way home she wondered how she was going to face them. Dhenry was the law for heaven’s sake, and she rolled up her eyes at her own stupidity, how would it have looked if she had been arrested?

Then as she got nearer the house the feeling of disconnect and an overwhelming assault of butterflies was augmented as she recalled Dhenry’s words, “I’ll talk to you later young lady.”

He couldn’t possibly mean…?

As she reached the end of the drive Dhenry’s SUV swung in off the road and went past her. She noticed he didn’t as much as look in her direction and she wondered if this was a sign that he was mad.

By the time she reached the house Dhenry was waiting on the porch with an opened beer.

“About this time I like to unwind with a brew,” he said in a casual tone, but there was an edge to his voice.

She stopped and regarded him sheepishly, maybe it was alright and he really didn’t have a problem with her.

“But then a chore crops up and sometimes the beer has to wait,” he continued as he set the bottle down on the rail where it was shady.

“I could use a beer myself,” Sammie ventured.

“Oh I bet you could, but that really is not going to happen, not in this house. Not until you are 21.” He sounded a little pissed now, she thought.

“I guess not,” she whispered.

Normally she would have told him she had plenty of beer back in LA and what was the big deal. But just then she sensed that this wasn’t time to test his resolve or the extent of the disciplinary waters.

“So, do you want to wait until Kathy comes home or do you want to get it over with?” he drawled.

She swallowed and wondered if she knew what he meant. She certainly hoped not.

“What do you mean?” It was a nervous breath.

“Are you testing me young lady? You know perfectly well what you have coming,” he growled.

“No I… please can’t we talk about this? Is this about the…” She didn’t finish as she was suddenly aware of the weight of the book in her bag and she hefted it in his direction.

“Oh we can talk about it sure enough. We can talk about theft. We can talk about deception. We can talk about stealing from family and the folks of this town. We can even talk about why on Earth you would want an unsuitable book like that in the first place. Shall I go on?”

Dhenry folded his arms and leaned back a little as if to get a good look at the woman who lived in his house.

Only she didn’t exactly feel like a woman right then. The years were escaping her even as she hopped awkwardly from foot to foot. Sixteen would be a stretch just then.

“No,” she mumbled and looked at the floor. “Look, I meant to bring it back, I just wanted to… you know, look at it.”

“And you couldn’t just take it out like a normal person?” he accused.

“I… I was embarrassed,” she admitted.

“I am not surprised. Wanted to do some research on how we handle treacherous little thieves around here did you?”

“No I… I really didn’t mean to… I was just curious and…” she fell silent.

Dhenry sighed.

“Look I know what you thought and didn’t think, mostly didn’t think would be my guess. If I thought you had any real malice then we wouldn’t be having this discussion and you would be packing your bags,” he said. “And that brings us back to my question. You want to wait or get it over with?”

“Wait…? I… I don’t…”

“Let’s make this real simple,” he said sharply. “You can go and stand on the porch where your mom put you that first day. We’ll see what Kathy thinks when she gets home.”

“Out here on the porch? I mean that’s something that we don’t usually… it was just that one time,” Sammie blustered through a crimson face. “I mean… time out is for little kids.”

“This ain’t exactly a time out,” Dhenry growled. “It’s corner time pure and simple. Now get and do as you’re told.”

Sammie swallowed and tried to gather some dignity. Then with an effort she put one foot in front of the other and walked up the porch steps. Once there she tossed the bag into the swing seat and leaned against the wall sideways on.

“If you don’t mind me young lady, I am going to paddle your rear end raw and then when Kathy gets home you’ll get a switching too.” Dhenry faced her down worse than any city tough she usually tried to avoid.

“But I…”

“Turn and face the wall as you were before. Exactly how you were before with your skinnies and panties at your ankles and be quick about it,” Dhenry rasped at her in a controlled snap just below a yell.

“Ooh,” Sammie wailed, but she was suddenly cowed and hastened to obey.

She was mortified that he could see her bare behind. And then risking a glance over her shoulder, she was even more mortified that he wasn’t even looking at her, but drinking his beer and gazing at the early evening horizon.

*

The sun was low in a fiery sky as Kathy pulled off the road and onto the drive. The white-washed house and picket fences were all bathed in a warm orange glow and draped in long shadows from the trees lining the lane that bordered the property.

As soon as she made the turn she could see Dhenry and Sammie standing on the porch, but it took a moment longer to realise that the latter was facing the wall by the swing seat next to the door. The rail obscured everything below the girl’s waist, but as Kathy stepped from the car she spied that Sammie’s denims and panties were bunched at her ankles and the girl was definitely doing corner time.

Her predicament wouldn’t be obvious from the road but she doubted that Sammie realised that or that it would be much comfort if she had.

“I thought…” Kathy murmured; she could see now that as yet Sammie had been left unspanked.

“It seems our little thief wanted to stall some, so I gave her some time to think about it,” Dhenry explained and took another swig of beer. The chill had left it, but he had tried to string it out nonetheless so as to have only the one before did what he had to do.

“Oh Dhenry, she’s not exactly a thief. I am sure she intended to return…” Kathy protested.

“Oh is that a fact?” Dhenry said sharply, “That’s not what you said when I arrested the Bormann girl last summer. She only boosted a book on witchcraft on account of her father being the preacher.”

“Yes well…” Kathy blushed.

She remembered that the girl’s father had whaled Jenny Bormann’s behind at the family barbecue and she hadn’t showed for work for three days afterwards. It had been the talk of the town.

Her father had promised her another good spanking if the judge stopped at a fine and she didn’t have to do any jail time. Jail time for a library book, Kathy sometimes wondered what went through these folk’s minds. Neither had been necessary as far as the court was concerned, but Kathy doubted that Jenny had sat down for a month afterwards.

Dhenry had later showed his own displeasure at his wife’s lack of perspective. It had helped with the guilt somewhat and she could see now why he was angry at her reticence at his stance on Sammie.

“You think what she did was acceptable?” Dhenry continued.

“No,” Kathy sighed, “You’re right I suppose, just let’s not say thief alright?”

“But you agree she has a good spanking coming?” he pressed his wife.

Kathy looked at Sammie who shifted uncomfortably where she stood. Even from behind it was obvious she was blushing to her ears.

Time stood on end for the cornered girl as she waited for Kathy’s verdict.

“Yes,” Kathy agreed, “I am pretty mad about it actually, but I guess you’re mad enough for the both of us.”

Dhenry nodded, somewhat placated.

“What do you say to that Sammie?” he asked his young cousin.

“Ooh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she whined.

“You saying you don’t have a spanking coming?” Dhenry growled.

“No Sir I…”

“Turn around then,” Dhenry barked.

A shamefaced Sammie reluctantly shuffled around to face them with her head dipped and her teeth worrying her lower lip. As she did so her hands moved to cover front.

“I ought to take my belt to you or a switch,” Dhenry said softly, “But I doubt you ever had anything like you’re about to get judging from your mother’s previous efforts, so I’ll settle for the small paddle this time.”

Sammie lifted her head momentarily affronted by the aspersions cast upon her mom’s spanking abilities, but one look at Dhenry’s face sent her chin south again and she decided it might be better to reserve judgement.

It hadn’t escaped her notice that Dhenry had already acquired the paddle and she wasn’t so sure it was all that small.

“Any final words?” Dhenry asked; he included Kathy with his eyes.

“No Sir,” Sammie’s voice was on the very edge of panic.

Kathy shook her head. It was going to be strange seeing Dhenry spank another girl.

Dhenry took her by the arm and guided Sammie’s shuffling steps towards him and tumbled her gently over his lap. For Sammie this was novel, never having been spanked by a man before. His thighs were firmer than Mom’s, and where with her mother she had put up token resistance for form’s sake, here she was truly helpless and exposed across the sheriff’s knee.

The blood pumped to Sammie’s head with the increased embarrassment and pinned down as she was, she felt both lost and secure at the same time.

“So you’re interested in spanking are you, well here is a first-hand insight for you,” Dhenry growled.

At the reminder of what she had done Sammie felt vaguely sick and for a moment and for the first time in her life, it crossed her mind that she might actually deserve this.

Dhenry gave her no time to dwell on this epiphany and brought down the short hard leather paddle with a firm crack that arrested Sammie’s train of thought. Even then it took a moment for the shock to transform into a sting that pricked her behind the eyes.

The second swat built on the first and then as another blasted down as the sting mounted to an out and blaze that extracted a decided wail from the helpless Sammie.

“Omigodfuckbejeezus,” she shrieked.

“Yeah, he tends to have that effect on me too,” Kathy said ruefully as she watched Sammie’s firm young bottom cheeks go from a sharp pink to an ever deeper red.

The swats came in a regular beat now so that Sammie tried to kick back with her constrained legs and bucked up and down across Dhenry’s lap.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, please,” Sammie shrieked in a rising crescendo.

The sting had become a real fire now and Sammie thought of skinned knees as child, only this was on her bottom. The tears overtook her suddenly and came as great chuckling sobs that rattled in her throat.

Kathy shifted against the rail and clutched at her throat. Her confused mind thrilled with concern but also she was aware of where her thighs met as she always was when a spanking arose. Despite Sammie’s distress Kathy’s eyes took in the tight domes of the girl’s bottom with the two scarlet welted pads that crowned them and wondered if her bottom ever looked like that. But she knew that it did, she had many times felt for herself the hard shocked pads of flesh that sang for shame in her tail.

The spanking lasted for a good while as Kathy knew it would and Dhenry did not let up until sometime after Sammie had begun protesting her sincere regrets.

“Now young lady are we done here?” Dhenry said after a pause.

“Yes Sir,” Sammie said frantically.

“So you’re not going to take any more books without checking them out?”

“No Sir,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Good girl, now you can go back to the corner… the one in the house now I think,” Dhenry quickly amended as he glanced around at the gathering gloom, “You can stay there and think about what you did until I tell you to come out.”

“Yes Sir,” Sammie agreed eagerly, realising the spanking was over.

It briefly occurred to her that sometimes with Mom she had tried to resent being spanked, but today for the first time she knew it was an unworthy thought. In fact far from resentment, she actually felt cleansed and when Dhenry had said ‘good girl’ she also felt forgiven.

“Come on, I’ll show you the corner,” Kathy said gently as she took Sammie by the arm and led her shuffling into the house. Then she added ruefully, “I know it well.”

“I’m sorry Kathy, I’m sorry,” Sammie said, continuing to sob.

“I know, I know,” Kathy shushed her.

*

Sammie sat uneasily for the next few days, which was about as long as it took for her to look either of them in the eye.

“I feel such a screw up,” she finally plucked up the courage to say to Kathy. “I am really sorry I boosted that book. But I promise I would have brought it back.”

“I know kiddo, I get it. I would never have had the courage to check that book out, not at your age anyway. If Dhenry hadn’t have been there I am not sure I would have told him,” Kathy reassured her.

“I… I kind of hope you would have done, I mean… he was right to be mad at me,” Sammie said shyly.

Kathy pulled her mouth into a sympathetic line that might have passed for a smile.

“Well it’s over with now,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, you know, that’s what I like about this small town way of dealing with things. I had to go through months of ass-pain with the suits back in LA before I could even get it over with. I realise now what I put Mom through. That’s why I am glad Dhenry found out. I mean, I think I would have had it on my conscience and so would you maybe. You know, like Mom sort of, you would have had to be in it with me.”

It was the most introspection Kathy had heard coming out of Sammie’s mouth, but then a spanking often did that for a girl.

“So, did you make any great discoveries about spanking in that book?” Kathy asked to change the subject.

Sammie blushed and gave a shrug.

“I don’t really get where the punishment thing and the fun parts meet. Or don’t,” she said, averting her eyes again. “I mean I kind of get that seeing someone spanked is fun. You know I spied on you… well that was neat now that I think about it. But it was just a thing, you know. I think what Dhenry did will stay with me forever, like, you know, it means something.”

“It’s a really big deal when you know you are going to get it, isn’t it?” Kathy prompted her.

“Yeah,” Sammie said eagerly, “It’s like you matter, you know, like what you do matters, even if it is a screw up.”

“At the time it’s a sensory overload that you need more than want, even when you hate it,” Kathy suggested in a half-mumble. “But afterwards you feel…”

“All clean and forgiven,” Sammie gushed in agreement.

Kathy nodded.

“The book said something about the most erotic spankings being associated with punishment,” Sammie said with a frown, “I kind of get that now.”

“You mean you found being spanked erotic,” Kathy gaped at her.

“Noo… not exactly, but the intensity afterwards… a long, long time afterwards,” Sammie said ruefully, rubbing her bottom, “Well I kind of get it, you know. It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“I never thought about it so much, let alone talked about it,” Kathy admitted, “It’s just something that Dhenry and I do. It’s how he takes care of me. Well one of them.”

“But isn’t kissing and making-up afterwards more fun if you have been… you know?” Sammie wanted to know.

Kathy blushed, “I think that is quite enough about that,” she said tartly.

Sammie giggled and joined her in blushing.

Kathy moved towards the car to get to work but as she reached the top step she turned and said, “Oh… maybe… maybe I could borrow that book before you take it back?”

Sammie grinned and said, “Sure.”

*

It was a week later and Dhenry stood on his usual spot on the porch drinking a beer when Kathy’s car made the turn at the end of the drive. He could tell at once that there was something wrong. The engine noise was off and as it drew near he could see off-side fender and headlamp were a mess.

“You okay honey,” he called over, concern carved into his face.

Sammie jumped up from the swing seat and ran over for a closer look.

“Man, what happened?” she gasped.

Kathy sat grimly behind the wheel and chewed at her lower lip.

“Kathy?” Dhenry put down his beer and crossed the yard with heightened concern.

“I’m okay,” Kathy said, opening the door. “It’s just the car.”

“I can see that, what happened?” Dhenry sighed. “You know we only had it fixed three months back.”

“I know, I know,” Kathy said irritably.

Dhenry bent his head to kiss her when he smelt the mints on her breath.

“Someone’s birthday?” he threw the curveball.

“Elaine’s having a kid,” Sammie said without thinking, “Why…? How did you…?”

“You stopped off at the Dewdrop for a beer.” It wasn’t a question. Then seeing that she blanched, he added, “Two or three maybe?”

“Two,” Kathy whispered.

“Is that when you hit something?”

“Atkinson’s car,” It was terse statement of fact. “Hell the old man wasn’t…”

“Wasn’t what, drinking?”

“He was just going in for one,” Kathy mumbled.

“Did Helen or Bart or anyone deal with it at the scene?” Dhenry asked in a professional voice.

“I wasn’t drunk, Helen agreed. Old man Atkinson was fine about it, he said…” Kathy’s voice tailed off; Dhenry was giving her the look.

“One beer might have been fine, if you hadn’t of been sucking mints, which is a kind of lie,” Dhenry growled, “But two, if it was only two, and wrecking the car…”

“I didn’t wreck it, it’s…”

Dhenry silenced her with a scowl.

“I’m in trouble aren’t I?” Kathy winced.

“Big trouble little lady,” he growled.

“Ouch,” Kathy squeaked and pulled a rue-filled face.

“I wait until I am home before I have a drink,” he said sharply.

“Yes Sir,” she conceded with a blush.

She was well aware Sammie was just there within earshot and shifted uneasily.

Sammie smirked on hearing Kathy use the s-word and with a snigger she moved quietly away to a safe distance lest she be completely dismissed.

“You know how I had Sammie the other day,” Dhenry said icily.

Kathy gaped.

“Not out here… someone…”

“You remember last time when I sent you off to the woods for a switch all naked below the waist?”

“I had more than two that time,” Kathy wailed.

“That’s why I am letting you off easily,” he scolded, “If you mind me now that is.”

He pointed at the porch without taking his eyes off her.

“Ooh,” Kathy stamped her foot offered him a lemon-sucking face, but marched off obediently nonetheless.

Once on the porch she shiftily looked all around, especially towards the road, before working the zipper on her skirt and stepping out of it. Then with one more angry and defiant look, she shucked down her panties and turned to face the wall. There were no neighbours to see and the view from the road was obscured, so unless anyone came right up to the house it was private enough from outsiders. Kathy darted a sideways look at Sammie sitting nearby. Still she felt embarrassingly exposed.

Sammie swallowed a smile and drew her legs up into a hug as she sat on the swing seat just a few feet away.

“Having fun,” Kathy hissed at the girl without turning her head from the wall.

“Oh, the most,” Sammie giggled.

*

Dhenry let his wife stew for a good while until he had finished his slow beer. The fact that Sammie was drinking it all in would serve as an added lesson to Kathy. She knew better than to drink and drive, for safety’s sake at the very least. Never mind how it looked to the town that the Sherriff’s wife and head librarian was so feckless.

He glanced at Kathy who stood nervously swaying with her nose pressed to the white-washed wall and let his eye wander down the elegant curve of her tightly split behind. Something twitched in his pants and he had to shake himself for focus.

“All right honey let’s get this over with,” he drawled, seeing her start.

Dhenry eyed Sammie and gave her warning look, which caused his cousin to blush. But then she garnered his meaning and leapt out of the swing seat to retreat down the porch some.

The broad-shouldered ‘cowboy’ cop dropped into her vacated place and drew his wife to him as he did so.

“Now, are you going to tell me you don’t have this coming?” Dhenry said in a low voice as he smoothed Kathy’s bare bottom with his hand.

“No Sir,” Kathy lisped; her eyes wide and blinking rapidly.

Dhenry reached down for the medium wooden paddle that he had earlier put under the seat and placed it next to him. Kathy tried to look back over her shoulder at the sound of wood scraping on wood and gulped.

But for now her husband had other plans. Before she knew what was happening, his great open paw swatted down like an angry bear and she gaped like hunted fish with the impact.

“Just a little hand spanking to set the tone,” he growled.

Kathy had no breath for protests and squirmed under the rapid volley that followed.

Then she found her voice, “Oh, ahh, Dhenry, please…”

At the other end of the porch Sammie pressed both knuckles to her mouth as she watched Kathy’s bottom quickly turn deep red.

“Hush baby, you know you got this coming,” he said sharply.

Kathy bucked as she crossed and re-crossed her ankles under the onslaught, but Dhenry took his time and the hand-spanking lasted a good 15 minutes before he was done.

When it was over a moist-eyed Kathy lay panting across his lap, all fight gone from her body.

“Now you know we aren’t done, don’t you honey?” Dhenry murmured and picked up the paddle.

Kathy didn’t reply, at least it wasn’t the heavy paddle or something worse, she thought as she braced herself. He could so easily have made a sharper point given what she had done.

The paddle was some 16 inches long and fitted easily in Dhenry’s hand. It wasn’t too thick, but had finger-sized holes drilled in the striking surface like her old sorority bat.

“I don’t think you’ll be sitting for a spell by the time I am done,” he said sternly.

Nor do I, thought a rueful Kathy.

This time the bear had claws and the paddle swat had real bite.

Kathy met the challenge with a jaw-clenching grimace. Her red bottom was suddenly invaded by a shocked white rectangle with angry puce holes. But it didn’t stay white for long and the oblong rapidly filled with yet more red.

The second swat, not quite matching the first, welted along one edge and Kathy gave an angry wail. From then on at one swat every few seconds she had to contend with a growing fire that soon had tears spilling form her eyes.

This spanking was shorter than the first, but throughout Kathy bucked and squirmed on Dhenry’s lap until finally she broke down sobbing.

Dhenry shot a glance at the still enthralled Sammie and jerked his head towards the door. Sammie took the hint and crept away.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” Kathy sobbed as she crawled up into his arms.

Dhenry kissed her forehead and then rocked her gently to let her cry herself out. As she wept he traced the extensive welting on her bottom with his fingers, drawing hisses and sighs from her as he did so. She was one well-spanked girl, he decided.

Nevertheless, he was still mad with Kathy and all further reconciliation had to wait until they were both safely in bed. As was brought home to her when she tried to suggest she escape to the kitchen.

“Shall I make supper,” she ventured once she had stopped crying.

“Oh no my pretty one, you can go into the house and find your usual corner just as you are. You don’t get off that easily,” Dhenry rumbled like a bear.

Kathy gaped at him, “But Sammie…”

“I really don’t care,” Dhenry intoned, folding his arms against further discussion.

As Kathy took her place inside for a long stint of corner time, Sammie offered to make some food, but Dhenry wouldn’t hear of it.

“I don’t see why you should be put out just because Kathy got herself a spanking. I’ll order pizza,” he said.

“Ooh,” Kathy wailed from the corner.

She bobbed up and down at the knees in frustration until Sammie thought she might burst.

“You know the rules my love,” Dhenry scolded.

“But…”

“We won’t let the pizza boy see, not if you’re a good girl,” he said with a wicked smile.

Sammie giggled at the idea of Kathy being so exposed.

“Can’t I at least move over to the other corner?” Kathy pleaded.

Dhenry appeared to consider this and Kathy stole a hopeful glance at him over her shoulder while he pondered.

“No,” he said at last, “I don’t think so.”

“Oooh,” Kathy wailed again in frustration. Something told her it was going to be a long night.

*

“So now you know,” Kathy said sheepishly as she took the last item out of the back of the wardrobe.

Sammie stood bug-eyed at the array of paddles, straps and canes laid out on the bed.

Kathy sat carefully on the bed to ready herself for deluge of questions, her bottom flaring a little after her encounter of a few days before.

“There are quite a lot of… has he… have you… felt all of these?” Sammie asked in an incredulous voice.

“Most,” Kathy answered tentatively, “The cane is… a challenge and I have never felt the big one. It’s English I think. Dhenry prefers a good old American switch.”

“What about this one?” Sammie gasped as she seized a large thin-bladed paddle.

“Uh-huh,” Kathy answered in the affirmative. “It stings more than bruises. My old sorority paddle is much worse.”

She pointed at a slightly larger version of the one Dhenry had used on her three days before.

“I felt that a few times at college, my sorority took discipline seriously back then.”

“Back then? You make sound like the Stone Age, you were only there what? Eight years ago,” Sammie pointed out.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Kathy winced as reached back to her behind. “It bruises like the devil.”

“Speaking of which, how is your…?” Sammie murmured.

“Still blistered and bruised thank you very much,” Kathy said crisply, “Well still sore anyway.”

“Do you always have to stand in the corner like that? I mean for so long?” Sammie’s brow furrowed with something like concern.

“More or less,” Kathy admitted with a blush.

“With your eh… bottom left bare like that?”

“Uh-huh,” Kathy winced.

“When that pizza boy came I thought you were going to die,” Sammie gasped, reliving her disbelief.

“He didn’t see did he?” Kathy asked in a panicked voice.

“No, no Dhenry was careful,” Sammie reassured her.

“Not that Dhenry hasn’t threatened,” Kathy sighed with relief, “And drink driving is something that might earn it.”

“Then I for one am going to stick to Coke,” Sammie rolled her eyes.

Kathy laughed.

“Hey, let’s see that book,” she said suddenly, “I showed you mine after all.”

Excitedly both women scrambled for the book on the chair and began giggling over its contents.

*

It had threatened to rain all day and then with just hours to go until sunset the sky had cleared to bathe Main Street in a warm orange light.

“Typical,” Sammie’s boss said as he left, “Still maybe I can get out into the yard for a spell. Need a ride home?”

“No thanks,” Sammie smiled, “Kathy is picking me up in a minute.”

As she spoke Kathy pulled around the corner and slowed to a stop.

“Well okay,” he said with a cheery wave.

“Hi Sammie,” Kathy smiled at her from the car. “You don’t mind if we call in at the Sherriff’s Office first, I have to drop something off for Dhenry.”

“Hey, a real life cop-shop, I haven’t been there yet, it might be cool,” Sammie replied as she dropped in beside Kathy.

“If you say so,” Kathy snorted, “We won’t be a minute.”

Sammie picked up a sack of books off the back seat and began to turn over the covers one by one.

“Nothing about your current obsession there, sorry,” Kathy said with a wink.

Sammie blushed. It had been two weeks since the spanking incident and with Kathy’s collusion, she had checked out the library for any other books to clue her in about spanking and domestic punishment. There hadn’t been a great deal. The Story of O was too hands off for Sammie’s tastes and the Marquis De Sade was too much and rather gross in places.

Kathy had pointed her in the direction of the used paperbacks that were for sale at 50 cents each. There had been a couple of Danielle Steels that were better than nothing and some other pre-PC romances. Then Kathy had nudged her towards the sci-fi section and to some authors such as John Norman and Sharon Green.

The books were all very dog-eared with lurid drawings of scantily clad women on the covers. Both authors had been very coy about actual spanking scenes, but the scenarios were more to her taste than O.

Sammie might have plucked up some courage and asked for some more tips but the car pulled up outside the station house, a small modern building behind Main Street. There was only one police vehicle in the parking lot and it looked as if it was primarily for off-road pursuit or major emergencies.

“Coming?” Kathy asked as she got out.

Sammie shrugged and reluctantly followed. Now that she was here the police HQ brought back some unpleasant memories for her. But Kathy seemed right at home and just pushed on through the large glass doors in front.

Jolene Bates was the only staffer in the building as they entered and she was on the phone.

“Just wait in there,” she mouthed with a nod towards Dhenry’s office.

Kathy nodded and smiled.

“Pretty small,” Sammie sniffed.

“Like I said before, there are only four deputies stationed here. The State troopers take care of the highway and we don’t get much trouble in town,” Kathy explained.

Sammie ran her finger along the shelves and looked about at crime posters and one that said in big letters; “Get Your License.”

Then she saw some files on the desk with names of people here in town that she recognised.

“Hey look at these,” she exclaimed.

“Oh I don’t think you should…” Kathy began but then her eye fell upon an entry, “Oh my God, she never did… I can’t believe it.”

“What?” Sammie said excitedly, “Oh shit, that’s the preacher’s wife.”

Both women clapped their hands to their mouths and squealed in disbelief.

“What else does it say?” Sammie said eagerly.

Kathy picked up another file and began flicking through some pages.

“Tom Willover hasn’t paid his fire arms licence… oh and,” she snorted disapprovingly.

“No about the preacher’s wife,” Sammie said eagerly.

Just then they heard Dhenry’s voice out front and Kathy snapped the files closed.

“Leave them,” she hissed.

Sammie realised that the files were confidential but she wanted to know more about the preacher’s wife. So once Kathy had left the room, Sammie snatched up the file and began to nose through it.

The voices in the outer room sounded far away so Sammie just skipped to the page on the preacher and his family.

“What in hell do you think you are doing?”

Sammie whirled around with a start to be confronted by an angry Dhenry in the doorway.

“I was just…” Sammie blanched.

“Don’t you know they are not for your eyes?” his anger was contained but more than a little apparent.

“I guess,” Sammie squeaked.

“I ought to run your ass into jail,” he barked.

Sammie felt sick. This was LA all over again. Her mother was going to kill her.

“Wait until I get you home.” Dhenry’s voice had an undertone of menace.

“Yes Sir,” Sammie squeaked as she shot a glance at the cells at the back of the office.

But Dhenry took her by the arm and led her firmly from the building with a flustered Kathy in tow.

*

Sammie knew she was going to get a spanking. Or hoped she was in as much as it was a preferable alternative to being packed off back to LA. Not that either choice filled her with much joy as she gulped back bucketful’s of apprehension.

Neither did she glean much comfort from the setting of her dressing down. The porch was too near the road out of town for her liking and as a location for another spanking it positively sucked.

“What in the Devil’s name do you think you were doing?” Dhenry said in a hard-edged voice she could imagine he usually reserved for suspects.

“I was just curious,” Sammie offered weakly, it was lame and she knew it.

“Yeah, I am getting that, like you were just curious before when you stole that book,” Dhenry said dryly.

“You’re not going to send me back to LA are you?” she was close to tears.

“Oh, I’ll give you something to cry about,” he barked, but added in a sigh, “No I am not sending you home.”

“Dhenry…” Kathy interrupted.

“You know she’s has this coming,” he said impatiently.

“Well yes but…”

“There are no buts about this. This one could cost me my job,” Dhenry had never sounded so disappointed.

Tears really did pool at Sammie’s eyes at the words.

“Dhenry, please it’s not that bad, Jolene won’t say anything, but listen…” Kathy sounded as if she was reasoning with a bear.

“Kathy I know you think I am too hard on the girl, but that is hardly the point,” he said wearily.

“I know but it wasn’t her fault,” Kathy let the words out slowly.

Dhenry whirled on her to refute her claim but something in her eyes told him he was missing something.

“I… I kind of looked too, Sammie was just…” Kathy leaked the words to Dhenry like water to a dying man in a desert.

Sammie felt sick, like the time she had frozen back in LA instead of calling the cops. It couldn’t happen again. If only she had listened to Kathy when she said to drop it? But she just had to know, hadn’t she?

“She said not to, I was just curious,” Sammie blurted.

“Was that before or after Kathy looked too?” Dhenry said in a low voice, not taking his eyes from his wife.

Kathy sucked in her cheeks and coloured so that the truth was written on her face.

“It was my fault, you caught me,” Sammie said in a pleading voice.

“I caught you, but not her, is that it?” Dhenry sighed, his eyes still fixed on his wife who would not meet his eyes.

Kathy nodded.

Sammie winced. The gig was up and nothing could save either of them now.

“It was my fault,” Kathy said dejectedly, “I set her a bad example.”

“So it would seem,” Dhenry groaned. “Well you can both forget what you read. If one word of it leaks out I’ll know who to blame. I’ll take the skin of both your ‘hinies and neither of you will sit down for a month.

“Yes Sir,” they both chirruped in unison.

“Now guess what comes next?” Dhenry drawled.

“Where do you want us?” Kathy said glumly.

“I want you both out there in the woods cutting switches,” Dhenry told them.

Kathy didn’t look surprised and Sammie just looked at her shoes.

“Before you do that, you can both leave your denims and panties on the rail here,” Dhenry said wearily.

Kathy nodded, but Sammie gaped.

“The woods over there by the public highway?” she wailed, not quite believing it.

Kathy pursed her lips and nodded on Dhenry’s behalf.

“And when you get back you can both face the wall out here until I am ready for you,” he added.

“Yes Sir,” Kathy said in a tight voice.

“Ooh, this is…” Sammie moaned.

“Deserved,” Kathy finished for her.

“I guess,” Sammie said ruefully, adding in a put out voice, “But LA was never like this, let me tell you.”

“I bet it’s not,” Kathy said grimly as she began to shuck down her denims.

*

Sammie and Kathy didn’t have long to wait. Once they were denuded below the waist Dhenry handed a pair of clippers to his wife and told her what he expected.

“We can’t just go and… not like this,” Sammie wailed as she stood at a crouch tugging her sweater down in front.

Kathy was less coy, but it wasn’t her husband seeing her that concerned her. She looked at Dhenry’s impassive face and then at the woods on the other side of the main road. As she watched a car went by at a lick, although with no sign that the driver even saw them. But still it was barely 80 yards off and they had to cross the road.

“Come on, let’s be quick about it before another car comes by,” Kathy said in a determined voice.

Right on cue another vehicle came by, this time slower so that the driver might have seen had he glanced in their direction.

“Don’t go far,” Dhenry warned.

Kathy steeled herself and then keeping the shrubs on their drive hard to her left she made for the road. Sammie chose to back away until Dhenry turned away to grab a beer and then she scurried after Kathy mooning the house in the rays of dying sun.

One more car sped by before they hit the road and Sammie could see a sullen-faced kid looking their way in back. But he showed no sign of noticing their lack of lower attire and in any case the car was gone in a moment.

“Come on,” Kathy yelled in an excited voice, “Before another comes.”

Then like two college girls skinny dipping they shrieked in a parody of joy and scurried across the road to the relative safety of the trees on the other side.

“Maybe it will be dark by the time we have to cross back,” Sammie said hopefully as she struggled for breath.

“Dhenry will want us back long before then and I really don’t want to make him any madder than he already is,” Kathy said glumly.

“This is crazy, what if someone sees us,” Sammie said excitedly, “I bet no one else ever had to this.”

“I have never been caught, not since I was your age anyway” Kathy replied, but she was smirking, “But last summer Dhenry and I were out walking around here and we saw your friend Josephine out here in much the same state as we are now and I am pretty sure she was collecting a switch.”

Despite their predicament Sammie smiled.

“She ducked away before we had a good look, but it was her right enough. I can’t think of any other reason she would be out here mooning the world.”

“A local custom then?” Sammie replied, feeling a little better.

“It was certainly how I was brought up, well once I reached senior high and beyond anyway. Nothing like it for putting a college-aged girl in her place,” Kathy said ruefully. “Also I am pretty sure I am not the only spanked wife around here, although I am not sure how many go bare-assed into the words to cut switches.”

“If my friends back in LA could see me know I would die,” Sammie grimaced.

“Screw your friends in LA, what about that little madam Rosemary?” Kathy pulled a face.

“Oh don’t,” Sammie groaned.

“Come on, here’s the right sort of tree here,” Kathy sighed; she should know she had been cutting switches like this for half her life.

Getting back across the road was another trial and at least 10 cars went by before Kathy urged them to run.

Sammie was still puzzling as to why they needed three switches each when Kathy broke ahead, her white bottom bobbing in the growing reddish the last of the evening light like a foretaste of what was to come.

The sound of another car was the only spur she needed to catch-up and by the time she breathlessly reached the porch she had never been so glad to be home.

Home? She mused. I am about to get my behind whipped and I think of this as home now.

“Right you two,” Dhenry broke into her reverie, “Get your tails up here and face this wall.”

God, I hope we don’t get visitors, Sammie groaned inwardly as she put her bare bottom next to Kathy’s so that it faced outwards towards the drive.

*

Kathy had no idea how long they had stood there. At some point the porch lights had come on, which banished the shadows and made her feel even more exposed. The only sound apart from the occasional passing car and creak of floors as Sammie shifted a little where she stood was when Dhenry stood up to open another bottle of beer.

That was always the worst moment as Kathy was sure it was about to begin, but then she heard the click of a bottle top and the heightened tension was dashed.

So when Dhenry finally spoke it was a shock.

“I’ve selected the best switch for each of you, come and take one and return to the wall with it held under your bare bottoms,” he said sharply.

Kathy’s heart lurched, but again the imminent threat receded. She knew this stance and it was usually one that Dhenry employed at the outset of corner time before a switching. So God alone knew how long this was going to take, she groaned inwardly.

Both of them dutifully turned and grabbed a switch from the rail. Kathy swallowed and immediately turned back with the switch pressed exactly to the under curves of her bottom.

For Sammie it was harder and she didn’t know the drill. So watching Kathy with wide eyes she blushed at the intimate gesture before copying it.

“Feel that,” he said once they had both obeyed him.

“Yes Sir,” Kathy said in a thick voice; echoed by Sammie a beat behind.

“Feel where it caresses your bare behinds and imagine what it will feel like with some force behind it,” he rasped.

Sammie gulped and a pulse in her head began to beat.

Kathy wondered how long he was going to draw it out.

“Have you any idea how damaging to everyone concerned your actions might have been?” Dhenry growled.

“Yes Sir,” they both breathed in unison, as if a louder voice would shatter the world.

“Do you?” Dhenry raised his voice so that they both started.

“I’m sorry,” Kathy wailed, “We’re both sorry.”

Sammie nodded frantically, desperately fixing her eyes on a spot on the wall as if to break her gaze with the one she had chosen was to die.

“Let us see how sorry,” Dhenry sighed. “Sammie turn around and bend over the rail.”

Sammie moved hesitantly, but the exposure of her front side encouraged her to obey quickly. As she did so Dhenry took the switch and then waited until Sammie got into position with her bare bottom jutting out towards him.

At that moment another car went by and Sammie wondered if anyone could see her and her shame, just as the preacher’s secrets were exposed by her snooping. In that moment it seemed only fair somehow.

“Bottom back a little more,” Dhenry instructed.

The indignity irked her as much as anything, but Sammie had no option but to obey. Then she again felt the switch as Dhenry tapped her bottom with it to line up for a stroke.

The sound began as a whisper and long way off, followed by zip that landed across both cheeks of her tail at once. For the longest moment Sammie could barely connect the sound with the sudden needle thin line of pain she felt in her bottom. Then the connection filled her mind and she grunted with surprise.

She tumbled forward but her fall was arrested by the rail that pressed to her lower belly and she bounced back in time to meet the next stroke.

The whisk-whip of the switch came thin and fast then and as the pain grew exponentially she went form a wail to a series of shouted yelps.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she strained to scream.

Forever after she would look fondly on a mere spanking.

As the switching progressed Sammie dipped at the knees as she bobbed and bounced at the rail in time to the slices of pain handed out by Dhenry.

Kathy had not seen a switching close up for years and with Dhenry focused on Sammie she risked a peek over her shoulder at Sammie’s punishment.

The girl’s bottom looked huge as it was displayed; two red rounds lined with purple scores that raked her bottom in ever greater rills. Each mark would be hell to touch for days to come and the thought of panties against them was just a hint of the terror that sitting down would promise for a week or more. Kathy knew this from long bitter experience.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” Sammie wailed, “Please, oh please, I’ll never be bad again.”

Cured then, Kathy thought ruefully, just like I will be for about a month. Then I’ll forget. I always forget and Dhenry will remind me.

Sammie was a sobbing wreck by the time Dhenry let her stand to face the wall again. Now it’s my turn, Kathy quailed.

The cold wood of the rail came lower down atop of Kathy’s thighs compared to Sammie. This gave her a greater sense that she might fall over forward. But the Dhenry had her edge backwards and push her bottom out behind so that she was fully exposed and had a good purchase on the porch crosspiece.

“I am so mad with you,” Dhenry whispered.

“I know,” Kathy said the tears welling, “I’m so sorry honey.”

Then she had to brace herself with a teeth-creaking grimace as the switch burned a track across her flesh. As ever, the pain went from bad to impossible within five or six swipes and Kathy quickly went form rapid breathing to a continuous wail.

“Oh shit, shit, shit… aieee,” she screamed through her teeth.

No doubt her banshee wail could have been heard from town.

*

I don’t suppose either of you wants to sit down,” Dhenry said mischievously.

“No Sir,” they both said quickly.

“Then you had better stay in your respective corners while I order some pizza,” he chuckled.

Kathy was grateful to be cornered inside and was under no illusions that she would escape before bed time. And although Sammie was still gently crying, Kathy could tell from Dhenry’s tone that they had both been forgiven.

Pizza did sound like a threat though and given the serious of her crime, it was not above Dhenry to invite the boy in when he came while he pretended to search for some money. Not that it had happened since she had been in college, but still… she just melted to a blush just considering it.

“You okay kid?” Kathy whispered to Sammie.

She hadn’t stopped crying and it had been a hard gig.

“Yes ma’am,” Sammie said sorrowfully.

“I think ma’aming me now is kind of redundant,” Kathy laughed.

Sammie glanced over and saw just how welted Kathy’s bottom was. It looked as sore as Sammie’s felt.

“I guess so,” Sammie smiled through her tears. “But I feel so sorry right now that I’ll be all Sir and ma’am for a month I wouldn’t wonder.”

“Oh yes,” Kathy said in a clipped voice, “I know exactly how you feel.”

“If you two don’t stop yattering I have a paddle with both your names on,” Dhenry growled a warning.

“Yes Sir,” they both squeaked.

As Sammie got her bearings and began to mind being in the corner she started to look forward to bed and a cold flannel where it would do the most good. She might even re-read the Warrior Within, I might as well use my experience creatively, she decided.

Meanwhile Kathy contemplated other diversions, albeit ones that could only be enjoyed face down on her knees and only then very carefully. But then making up was the best part of a marriage like hers.

The doorbell startled them both and promised just one more sting in the tail.

Please, please, please don’t let him come in both Kathy and Sammie prayed together. I have seen enough of this lifestyle for one day, the younger of the two thought ruefully. One more witness was now surplus to requirements.

The End


spanking art spanking art spanking artThese historical themed drawings were sent in by TipTopper.


spanked corner timeIn the wake of the college spanking post I heard from Linda. She is in her 30s and now married. She sent in this personal account.

In her own words she says: “time might have polished my memory of these events and better shaped them for style. And some events may have happened out of sequence, but essentially this is a true story. I have been a reader for some time and particularly like your stories. Oddly enough I was motivated to write after I read about (and read) Lizzie Baines, but it was the Zen thing and then the college accounts that finally pushed me into doing so.”

*

I think it is relevant to say I am adopted. I was a late adoptee (almost 13) and for a long time I never felt I was really theirs. For the record my parents were and are great and I owe them so much but it wasn’t until I met Ben and his mother and sister that I really understood family or appreciated my own. Not that this is a story of normal family life, anything but, I would say, and I definitely wouldn’t champion or evangelise this as a lifestyle. But it all worked out for me.

I was not yet 20 when I met Ben at college and I didn’t meet his mother and sister until Christmas of my second year. But things didn’t really get interesting until Easter.

Ben was 22 by then and his sister Tamsin is my age give or take. His father had died four years before and I gather things had been pretty difficult, which was why Ben was still at college.

Helen, Ben’s mother, is witty and when I first met her I thought she was too young and glamorous to be a mum. In fact I was fairly intimidated by all of them, they seemed so together. Tamsin in particular was very mature and made me feel quite gauche.

To start with, it seemed that Tamsin could do what she liked and always came home late having been drinking without the least raised eyebrow from Helen. My own mother would have done her nut if I had just done half the stuff Tamsin was doing. But then, as I said, Tamsin was very mature and always seemed sensible.

The weekend after Easter Helen was put out on Sunday morning because Tamsin hadn’t come home the night before after borrowing the car. It was the first time I noticed the least displeasure displayed by Helen towards her daughter.

Even then Tamsin had phoned to explain the night before.

It turned out that Tamsin had drunk too much and could not drive home, which was sensible and at first pleased Helen. But later that day after Helen came home they talked again and then Helen had asked how Tamsin had got the car back so early that morning.

The atmosphere changed immediately. The usually bright and confident Tamsin became closed-mouth and evasive until Helen showed her hard side.

My first hint that something was going to happen was when Ben said, “Uh-oh its crazy time.”

He looked really uncomfortable, embarrassed even.

It turned out that Tamsin had driven more than 10 miles from wherever she had been before deciding she was too drunk to drive.

Helen gave out a huge sigh of disappointment and folded her arms. I remember her body language was scary.

Then she said, “Young lady, you know what happens now.”

Tamsin suddenly looked her age and went red in the face and squirmed about on the settee. Up until then she had been really kind and friendly towards me, but now she was looking at me with irritation like I was unwelcome or an intruder even.

“I’m sorry Mum, look can’t we…” she started to mumble and kept looking at me.

Helen said in a cross but reasonable voice, “But we talked about this. We agreed didn’t we? Don’t make it worse for yourself,” that kind of thing. Then she said, “Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”

Tamsin glared at me and got a bit stroppy. Then she got up and stormed out of the room and up the stairs to her room.

I looked at Ben who looked really uptight.

He said, “Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just something Mum and Tam worked out after Dad died. I told you things were crazy back then.”

I waited until Helen followed Tamsin up the stairs and then curiosity got the better of me and I went after her. She saw me on the stairs, but didn’t say anything and went into Tamsin’s room.

In the house is a sort of open area at the top of the stairs that has two soft seats and bookshelves. It wasn’t unusual for me to sit there reading while I waited to use the bathroom or just to put some distance between me and the family. I guess I thought I was being casual, but I grabbed a book and sat down.

In her room Tamsin was obviously being told off and it didn’t sound like she was answering back much. Then there was dull clap sound followed by another. It took me a moment to get what was happening and by then Tamsin had started yelling.

I couldn’t believe that Tamsin was getting a spanking, but at the same time I realised that part of me had already guessed. I was shocked, embarrassed and sort of excited.

The slap-cracking sound went on for ages. I remember thinking it would stop any moment, but it didn’t. The swats were regular and quite fast, maybe one every second or two. No slower than that. Tamsin didn’t yell all the way through, but sometimes she made muffled groaning sounds like she was trying to keep quite. Then after a while she started apologising and I could tell she was crying.

Once it stopped I could hear Helen talking in a quiet voice for little while. When the door finally opened Helen came out with a man’s slipper in her hand, but didn’t come out with it. She tossed back inside before leaving. I remember thinking that it must be kept there for that purpose and how did Tamsin feel about that.

Helen looked at me and sort of smiled, but didn’t say anything before she went back down stairs.

I pretended to read a book while I listened to Tamsin crying. I don’t know what I expected, but I wanted to be a part of it somehow.  I wanted to know more. I wanted to ask Tamsin about it.

Tamsin cried for a while and then it went quiet and then a bit later the door opened and Tamsin came out. I remember she was wearing a really short stripy shirt that she usually wore to bed. Only normally she would wear some baggy shorts with it. Maybe she didn’t expect to see me there or maybe she was past caring. But as she came out she glared at me and then went passed me into the bathroom.

I could see the tops of her thighs and lower part of her bottom as she disappeared and they were very red and swollen.

When she came out she said “Go away” and something that might have been swearing.

I didn’t hear but instead of taking the hint I asked what she had said.

She screamed at me, “Get lost can’t you,” but in a really angry way.

Helen came up the stairs in a hurry and went straight back into Tamsin’s room.

There was a short burst of spanking and Helen said something under her breath in an angry voice. Then Tamsin was practically frog-marched on to the landing.

“Sorry,” she said in a really miserable voice so that Helen smacked her on the bum.

So in a slightly softer voice she said sorry again.

Then Helen clamped her by the back of the neck and turned her about so that she was facing the wall outside her room, then she left her there.

I could see Tamsin’s red bottom under shirt and I knew that she was really embarrassed, but I wanted to make sense of it all so I stayed there pretending to read.

Tamsin cried for a bit and then seemed to settle down. She was there for ages. So long that she kept adjusting the weight on her hip and leaning against the wall. Eventually I went to watch some TV, but the atmosphere was a bit frosty and I went to bed shortly after Tamsin was allowed to.

The next day Tamsin came to see me.

She was really friendly and apologised for her attitude saying she understood why I was curious and that I must think they are crazy. We chatted for ages and although Tamsin was reluctant to say much, she told me that spanking was something that she and Helen had worked out between them in recent years to clear the air.

I was still dying to know more about it and listened out for every hint or clue about it, but Helen just smiled at me when I asked and said maybe she would explain one day.

Ben was no help. All he could say was that it was how his Mum had been brought up and it had never happened while his Dad was alive. He called it the craziness and said he stayed out of the way.

I was there a lot after that, every holiday and some weekends. I don’t think Tamsin was spanked very much, although occasionally I got a sense that she may have been just before I arrived. That I know of, during the rest of her time I went to visit she was spanked at total of three more times.

Once I stayed downstairs and another time I came back from shopping and went to show Tamsin what I had bought only to find her teary-eyed and in her night clothes on her bed. She even showed me her sore bottom, but I got the idea she didn’t want me to stick around.

There was one other time when Ben was out that I went to listen outside the door and found it ajar. I noticed that I could watch most of the spanking through the crack in the door jam. Although all I saw really was that Tamsin’s bottom was bare and over Helen’s lap and she was indeed spanked with a slipper. I couldn’t see either of their faces.

I was embarrassed when Helen came out and caught me watching, but like before she just gave a half smile and shrugged.

The only other fact I gleaned from Tamsin at the time was that she sometimes had to stand and face the wall after a spanking like the first time I saw her, only she did it downstairs.

As I said that was pretty much all there was to it as far as Tamsin was concerned until much later. But it didn’t stop my interest in what had happened and I spent a lot of time looking up spanking at the library and the internet for any references. As you can imagine I found a lot.

About 18 months later Ben and I were pretty much a definite item and started talking about getting married. He had a job and I went to live with his Mum and sister, both of whom I really got on with by then.

I think it was a big strain for Helen sometimes to have another adult daughter in the house, especially as Tamsin was usually away with her boyfriend for days at a time. And I was not really used to that kind of home life either.

After a couple of rows Helen and I had a talk about things. That’s when I saw an opportunity to ask about the spanking.

Helen told me that after a really tough time when Tamsin had really gone into melt down and done stuff which Helen wouldn’t tell me about, Tamsin had asked for some sort of help. The subject of Helen’s own upbringing had been raised and somehow the spanking agreement had come from that. Although Helen admitted that the first time had been more spontaneous and done out of frustration. But afterwards Tamsin said it had helped and she felt better.

I remember squirming and blushing my head off but I asked Helen if she thought it would help me.

Helen laughed and said she bet it would. But she thought I was joking.

“Maybe you should, spank me I mean,” I said, God it was awful.

Helen said, “I think Ben finds the whole thing a bit uncomfortable. I am not sure it is such a good idea.”

I said that she had already admitted that it would do me good and pointed out that it had worked well for her and Tamsin. She only said she would think about it.

It might have ended at that as there was no way I would ever find the courage to ask about it again, but about three weeks later I went to a party with some friends.

Ben and Tamsin weren’t around and I got carried away. I spent most of the next morning throwing up in the bathroom while Helen phoned the various credit card people for me because I had lost my bag.

That afternoon Helen came to my room and said, “You know maybe what we talked about would help. I am pretty mad with you and you’re still moping up here. Maybe it would clear the air a bit.”

I was all tingling and felt sick like I was before my finals.

“Maybe,” I said.

“It’s not an easy thing and once I start I’ll go through with it,” she said.

I nodded and she told me to get ready for bed.

I put on one of Ben’s t-shirts and waited until Helen came. I saw at once that she had the slipper in her hand, although as it turned out it was the left one from under the stairs. Tamsin had the right one in her room as a reminder and Helen wanted to leave it there. But I didn’t know this at the time, not until afterwards.

Helen gave me an expert telling-off and I was pretty close tears and genuinely sorry when she was done. I think this really helped put me in the right frame of mind.

It was strange and awkward going over Helen’s lap and I was really more embarrassed than I thought I would be when she pulled up the back of my t-shirt. Not that it covered much as I was also to find out.

The first spank was much harder than I expected and I started struggling and making a noise almost at once, but as promised Helen didn’t stop.

I have to say that it always seemed like such a long time when I heard Tamsin’s spankings, but to be on the receiving end myself was far worse and it felt like hours went by.

I was a sobbing mess by the time Helen stopped.

Then Helen said, “Now I am going to handle you as I was handled, I think you need it more than Tamsin does. I know Ben’s not here so it won’t matter but if Tamsin comes home I don’t want any fuss.”

I didn’t know what she meant but I didn’t argue.

Helen then made me come down stairs just as I was and stand and face the lounge wall with my hands on my head. With my bum showing and having been thoroughly spanked I was as meek as mush. I stood there for most of the evening, although I was eventually allowed to put my arms down. Then I was sent to bed like a kid.

I looked at my bum in the mirror and it was still very red with mauve splotches on the underside. I also saw that Helen had left the slipper on the floor as a future warning. I put it on my dressing table where I could see it. It only prompted a very brief comment from Ben about me “starting with that craziness.”

Tamsin thought it was really cool so when Helen asked me if we should resolve stuff that way I said we should and thanked her.

Between then and until about a year after we married when Ben and I got our own place I was spanked about a dozen times. Ben was only there once, which wasn’t an accident I think, but Tamsin saw me spanked and my time facing the wall about half of those times.

The main difference between my spankings and Tamsin’s was that I always had to come down stairs and face the wall for a good while. But in any case Tamsin must have only been spanked two or three times while I was living there anyway.

Ben has never asked much about it and although he knows I look at spanking blogs he doesn’t get involved much beyond the occasional spanking for fun thing. I have only been spanked once by Helen since we moved out and that was really soon afterwards.

It would be way too embarrassing now and I don’t think Helen would anyway. But I often think about it. Anyway, sorry to go on but I just wanted to ‘clear the air’ as Helen would say.


Rodeo Spanking

22May13

rodeo spankingSometime ago I was told that there was a spanking tradition at rodeos that dated back at least to the 1930s. Apparently rodeo clowns would select a pretty girl from the audience and give them an impromptu public spanking.

Mostly this was for fun, but depending on what part of the country (in the US) it was, then the amount of roughhousing varied.

I was told that sometimes these clowns (or sometimes cowboys) were bribed to get some payback and maybe then these spankings might be given more in earnest. But I can’t imagine that even if this was true it would be all that common.

I don’t know much more about this other than what I have seen in the movies, where a slap-stick is usually used and rarely on women. I think their maybe a brief scene to this effect in a Clint Eastwood movie, but I may misremember.

Anyway, I have never been able to find out any more about this custom until I chanced on the above picture which comes from an Americana memorabilia website that had a section on rodeo. The girl doesn’t look too distressed, maybe because she drew cowboys and not clowns.