Friday, 22 April 2011

'The Spank Shop - Joelle and Kimberley'

Hello to everyone. Aunty Andrea asked me to write the introduction to this one personally as it concerns me. I'm not going to pretend that I like Andrea's friend Joelle Clemenceau, because I don't like the woman, but I cannot deny that she is sexy. This particular story is why I will never be rude to her or any other client for that matter.

I've chosen some drawings by JPC to illustrate it. As he is French it seems rather fitting.

Kimberley Susan.

Kimberley Kennedy looked around the empty reception area, smiled, made an entry in her Excel ledger, shut the application down, and picked up her embroidery. It was Tuesday afternoon in Clarkstown, and it was a slow one for the Spank Shop. Ordinarily Kimberley had freshly spanked bottoms filling up the corners, and parents with children awaiting their turn over the shop's proprietress knee, Andrea, or as she was more commonly known to the youth of Clarkstown, Aunty Andrea. Kimberley was the shop's teenage receptionist, and often helped administer the punishments. The slow time was only temporary, the appointment book was full from three o'clock until closing time.

Kimberley cocked her head to hear the faint sounds of a spanking emanating from inside Andrea's parlour. One of their few adult clients; a cute college boy by the name of Sammy, was over the stern disciplinarian's knee right now having his firm, round bottom spanked to a scorching, lobster red. Kimberley sighed and closed her eyes, she licked her lips as she imagined the scene in the parlour. She opened her blue eyes, and wondered if she could get away with asking Andrea if she wanted anything thus getting a good look at Sammy's rapidly reddening rear end. Kimberley had seen him spanked before, he wriggled delightfully and he had an absolutely adorable bottom. To get an eyeful of that would almost be worth the spanking that Andrea would more than likely give her for interrupting a session needlessly. She was just trying to dream up a plausible reason when the bell tinkled and the postman walked in.

"Hello Mr Sharman." Kimberley greeted the middle aged, uniformed postman as he walked in, carrying a package.

"Good afternoon, Kim, how are you?"

"Good, a little quiet, yourself?"

"Oh, I can't complain and even if I did no one would listen, eh?" the postman joked, with a wink at the teenager.

Kimberley rewarded him with a giggle.

"I have a package for Ms Mahoney."

"She's busy at the moment, Mr Sharman. I can sign for it."

Mr Sharman put the brown paper wrapped box on Kimberley's desk, and handed her a clipboard. She signed it with a flourish and then as the man left, examined the box. Opening it would guarantee that she would be unable to sit down for the next week. Curiousity was a failing of Kimberley's. This was going to annoy her until she found out what it was. As she turned the light box over in her hands she caught sight of the postmark and the stamps, and immediately dropped it on the desk like it had caught fire, and recoiled in horror. French! The postmark was French and so were the stamps! Kimberley knew only one person who would send the Spank Shop, or more specifically Andrea, anything from France, and that was her horrid friend Joelle Clemenceau. The rude, annoying French lady had visited Clarkstown a month or so earlier, she had been very rude to Kimberley and Kimberley had been rude right back, risking herself a spanking. She did not really know for sure, but she was pretty positive that Joelle had spanked Andrea. That was another black mark in Kimberley's book. No one laid a hand on 'her' Aunty Andrea. The fact that Andrea may have actually desired the spanking was immaterial to Kimberley. She blushed as she remembered the dressing down Andrea had given her for her attitude towards Joelle, and the warning that if the behaviour were repeated with Joelle or any other client then she would be soundly spanked, but Andrea would give the client the option of spanking her themselves.

A light came into Kimberley's cornflower blue eyes as she realised that the package gave her a perfect reason to walk in on Sammy's spanking. She could inform Andrea that a package had arrived for her and get a good look at that cute, round, red college boy bottom. The faint cracking sounds, and the answering howls from behind the parlour door told Kimberley that Andrea was giving Sammy a good working over with her medium sized paddle. The one with holes drilled in it. Kimberley winced as a loud yell hit the air and carried through to her, she knew from bitter experience that the paddle felt like sitting on a beehive and having them all sting you at once. She was about to tuck the package under her arm and knock on the door when the phone rang harshly, startling her.

For a moment she stared at the ringing object, before remembering what to do. She picked it up and said in breathless tones "Spank Shop, this is Kimberley, can I...."

The rest of her greeting was interrupted by a brusque French accented voice "Kimberlee! This is Mademoiselle Clemenceau, may I speak to Andee, s'il vous plait?"

'Oh God!' Kimberley thought to herself. 'Just what I wanted, a French pain in the derriere.'

She took a deep breath, and composed herself "Miss Andrea is with a client, Joelle," she took care not to use the honourific that Joelle generally demanded, "may I take a message?"

Joelle did not mention the deliberate dropping of the Mademoiselle Clemenceau, although her tongue did click in annoyance "Oh, this is most inconvenient. When will she be free? And my name is Mademoiselle Clemenceau to you, cherie." Joelle reminded the adolescent receptionist sternly.

"Oh, I don't know," Kimberley replied offhandedly, "ages yet, I expect. May I take a message?" again the girl deliberately avoided using the title of respect to Joelle.

"Non. Tell her I called."

"Okay, bye." and Kimberley hung up on Joelle, before the woman could again take her to task for her manner.

Kimberley set the phone back in its cradle, her heart thumping, knowing that if Joelle reported her conversation to Andrea then she would be turned over those shapely knees, and have her bottom spanked to a blistering hot crimson, probably with the very paddle that she could hear being applied to Sammy's bottom right now. "Oh, well in for a penny, in for a pound." Kimberley said to herself, repeating a phrase that her grandmother often used. The girl had no idea what it really meant, but it just seemed apt for this moment.

She stood up, picked up the recently arrived package, and headed for the door. Her first light knock received no response and she doubted that Andrea could hear it over Sammy's yells. She knocked more firmly, and was rewarded with a strong "Yes?" from the disciplinarian.

"Miss Andrea?" Kimberley said politely. "I have mail and a phone message."

"Come in." Andrea invited her receptionist.

Kimberley pushed the door open, and her eyes immediately went to the middle of the room. Sammy stood there, tears streamed down his face, his cheeks were flushed and his nose was running, his normally neat hair was in disarray, he was dressed in the 'spanking apron' that Kimberley had dressed him in at the beginning of his appointment, and he clutched his stinging rear with both hands.

"Sammy!" Andrea's stern voice rang out, and the boy's glistening eyes went wide. "Remove your hands from your bottom unless you would like a taste of the strap, and go to the corner. Stand there, hands on your head, and do not so much as twitch a muscle until I give you permission."

Kimberley, her azure eyes transfixed, watched Sammy make his mincing way to the corner, glowing, cherry red bottom winking at her as he pressed into the corner, and put his hands on top of his head.

"Kimberley, if you can tear your eyes from Samuel's bottom I believe you have a mail delivery for me and a phone message." Andrea said tartly.

Kimberley blinked, and slowly focused on her employer. "Oh, yes," she said in rather bewildered tones, and held out the package, "this arrived, and then Joelle rang."

Andrea took the parcel, and corrected "Mademoiselle Clemenceau to you, Kimberley Susan. Did she leave a message?"

Kimberley wrinkled her nose "Not really, just asked if I could let you know she called."

Andrea nodded "I'll call her later. Thankyou, Kimberley, you may go now." Andrea dismissed the girl, as her eyes again slid to the burning red rump in the corner.

With a regretful sigh, Kimberley turned and left the room.

The memory of Sammy's steaming rear end, and the delightful wriggle he had given when she had planted a healthy slap on the seat of his pants as he paid and left the shop, had carried Kimberley through the next couple of days and into Thursday. Whenever she felt a little harassed or annoyed, she just conjured up those images and they put a smile on her face. She had asked Andrea repeatedly about the contents of the parcel, but her employer had merely given her a cryptic smile and replied enigmatically that Kimberley would find out what the package contained soon enough. If Kimberley had a major failing it was inquisitiveness, and Andrea's replies only served to inflame her curiosity.  It was early on Thursday morning, and Kimberley had just arrived at the shop. She put her satchel down, and took her keys from her pocket. She opened up the door and entered whistling the last song she had heard on the radio before leaving home that morning. Mentally she was going through what she had to do. Lay the fire in reception, make coffee for herself and Andrea, have a brief chat, check the appointment book and the phone for messages, then get ready to welcome the first bottom of the day.

Kimberley was crossing to the fireplace when a voice floated from the parlour. A voice that was familiar, froze the blood in her veins and stopped her in her tracks. "Kimberlee? Is that you, cherie?"

Suddenly dry mouthed, the teenager swallowed hard, as her mind raced. Joelle! Here now? Where was Andrea?

Slowly, dreading what she would be confronted with, Kimberley went to the parlour door, and pushed it gently open.

Joelle was seated there, in Andrea's favourite armchair, a steaming cup of coffee on the table, her long, nylon sheathed legs, elegantly crossed. She smiled at the blonde adolescent standing nervously in the doorway, sipped her coffee, tucked a strand of her wavy, jet black hair behind an ear and inquired politely "Bonjour, Kimberlee! Ca va?"

Kimberley racked her brains for her high school French. Bonjour was hello, that much she knew, but what on earth was ca va?

Joelle, realising the girl did not know what she was asking, scolded gently "I am asking how you are, cherie. Your Mama told Andee that you did French at school. Perhaps you need a refresher course from Auntee Joelle."

Kimberley shuddered inwardly at the thought of learning French from Joelle, a lesson that she was certain would include a soundly smacked bottom.

"I am sorry. I am well, thankyou. How are you and where is Andrea?"

"Andee is out 'aving a leisurely breakfast at a local cafeteria. Make yourself a cafΘ, Cherie, and come out 'ere. We need to chat, n'est ca pas?"

"We do?" Kimberley asked in surprise, then before Joelle could answer, flounced to the kitchen. She had been offered the chance to make herself a cup of coffee, it was not something she was going to pass up. Maybe Joelle was not really the dragon Kimberley imagined her to be.

Kimberley patted her mane of golden hair into place, and wandered back into the parlour sipping her coffee. She settled into a chair across from the elegant French lady and put her coffee down. Joelle dressed immaculately in a short, charcoal grey skirt and a high necked, long sleeved, smokey grey silk blouse smiled welcomingly at the teenager, and said "We 'ave not got off to the best of starts, you and moi, 'ave we, Kimberlee?"

"No, probably not." Kimberley conceded.

"Why do you think that is, cherie?"

Kimberley studied the toes of her shoes as she tried to formulate an answer "I'm not sure, maybe because you're French."

Joelle's sculpted eyebrows climbed into her hairline at the answer, and she asked "French? You do not like moi because I am French?"

Kimberley wilted under the French lady's steady green gaze "I...uhhh....had a French teacher....Monsieur Perrottet at school...I....ummmm...ddidn't like him much."

"Be that as it may Kimberlee, I cannot 'elp what I am. You are rude to me, not once since I arrived 'ave you called me ma'am as I know Andee 'as taught you to do with your elders, you continually refuse to use my title of Mademoiselle. Andee and I 'ave discussed your behavior, and it needs correcting. I 'ave interns, and I do not permit them to disrespect me."

"Yes." Kimberley said in a sulky voice, pouting.

Joelle was steaming now "Why do you 'ate me, Kimberlee?"

"You spanked Andrea!" the girl accused, getting to her feet.

"Oui. I did." Joelle admitted. "I 'ave warmed Andee's derriere many times. What is that to you?"

"She's my boss and my friend. She gives out the spankings, she does not receive them."

"Not even if she wants them?" Joelle asked softly, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Wants them?" Kimberley asked. "Who wants a spanking?"

"You would be surprised, cherie. Wants as opposed to needs, just like you." Joelle told the girl seriously.

Kimberley felt her heart beat a little faster, she knew where this conversation was going, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Despite her feelings about Joelle and the intimate, dominating relationship she had with Andrea, she did not feel that she could stand up to the powerful Frenchwoman. "What do you mean needs?" she asked slowly.

"I think you know what I mean, Kimberlee." Joelle continued softly, her eyes trained on the blonde teenager's face. "You are an enfant, a rude, petite enfant, who NEEDS her derriere soundly smacked."

Kimberley gasped, and felt as if she had been slapped across the face, all the colour drained from her cheeks, and she said in a small voice "Spanking? You're going to spank me?"

Joelle smiled, and murmured "La fessee. Oui Kimberlee, a spanking is exactly what you need, cherie. 'Ave you finished your cafΘ?"

Numbly Kimberley nodded.

"Then you may go put on your apron and return." Joelle ordered.

The apron! Kimberley thought in shock. She knew about the apron!

"I...ummmm...I....uuuhhhh...I only wear that when I'm going to be spanked." Kimberley offered weakly.

"Oui?" Joelle said with an upraised eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Kimberlee?"

"No, ma'am." Kimberley replied, rising on wobbly legs from her chair, and walking as if on autopilot to the change room where her spanking apron hung in the closet.

As Kimberley shed her clothes, and picked up the hated white apron embroidered with bright red cursive script Kimberley's very own spanking apron, Kimberley glared at the article of clothing, and slipped it on. Just that act made her bottom tingle. She always associated the feeling of a stinging, hot bottom with wearing the apron. That would be because that was exactly what always accompanied the act of putting it on. She frowned as she realised that she could not tie it up. Raising her azure eyes ceilingward, she thought that she would have to actually ask Joelle to do it up for her. Otherwise it would fall open during the spanking, leaving her virtually naked. Having to wear the blasted thing in front of Joelle was bad enough, receiving a spanking from the lady was even worse, but to be naked during it would be more than Kimberley could bear.

She walked out to the, parlour with the apron on. Joelle's eyes widened over the rim of her coffee cup and she clapped her hands "Oh! 'Ow positively darling!"

"Yes ma'am." Kimberley murmured, feeling hot tears of shame already pricking her eyes. "Ummmm...," she began, her lightly freckled cheeks heating up with embarrassment, "can you please do me up, Mademoiselle Clemenceau?" she turned her back to the lady.

"Do you up?" a confused Joelle repeated, and then understanding entered her tone as she saw the undone ties of the apron. "But of course, cherie." and her long, nimble fingers deftly tied the apron up in a bow. Kimberley felt more comfortable when it was done up, she felt a little less exposed strangely enough, although she knew the apron covered nothing back there.

"Tell me, Kimberlee, does Andee own the idea of the aprons?"

"I don't think so." Kimberley replied with a frown.

"Who embroidered this one?"

"I did, ma'am."

"Ahhhh, so talented." Joelle murmured. "You would make a good intern, Kimberlee. Now go to the corner, whilst Auntee Joelle gets your spanking readee."

Cheeks blazing with humiliation, Kimberley went to the indicated corner, pressed in, and laced her hands over her golden tresses as she had been taught to do over the years. Joelle smiled, and thought to herself what a gorgeous bottom the receptionist had. So round, soft and white. It would be a joy to spank those two pert globes to a rich, scorching hot lobster red, to see them wriggle and twitch over her lap, and feel them slowly cook under her palm. "Mmmmmmm...." Joelle murmured to herself, and felt a slow warmth kindle in her loins. She picked up her cup, and headed to the kitchen.

Standing in the corner, hands clamped over her head Kimberley stewed. She knew Joelle had left the room, she could as an act of defiance leave the corner, but that would get back to Andrea or her mother; Gabrielle, she would still be spanked, and even worse she had the feeling that behaving in that way, which would be quite rightly interpreted as an act of childish pique, would disappoint Andrea greatly and may even ruin the close relationship that the adolescent and the professional disciplinarian shared.

Kimberley heard the door to the kitchen close, and felt the gentle breeze of Joelle's passing. She heard the leather creak ever so slightly as Joelle once again seated herself in the armchair. The chair that many of Andrea's clients referred to as the 'spanking chair'. "Are we feeling a little less insolent, Kimberlee?" Joelle inquired in her accented English.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Clemenceau." the girl answered, trying to keep the pout out of her voice.

"Mademoiselle Clemenceau?" Joelle repeated in a wondering voice, one finger idly playing with a dark curl. "Now you call me Mademoiselle Clemenceau. Why is it that so many petite filles do as they are told just before they go over my knee?"

"I don't know, ma'am." Kimberley replied politely.

"Is your derriere tingling, Kimberlee?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Turn around, cherie."

Hands still firmly on her head Kimberley turned, and faced Joelle.

The French woman's eyes were sparkling and one foot was unconsciously making small circles in the air where it was crossed demurely over the other leg.

"You are a veree pretee girl, Kimberlee." she complimented the blushing teenager.

"Thankyou Mademoiselle." Kimberley responded, fighting the urge to curtsey.

"Come to Auntee Joelle." the French lady urged.

Head held high and back straight, hands still on head, Kimberley crossed the room, her blue eyes flashing. She stopped and stood by Joelle's knee.

"Proud," Joelle murmured, taking note of the girl's carriage and demeanour, "I like that. Take your 'ands from your 'ead, s'il vous plait."

Kimberley lowered her hands and looked down at Joelle's grey skirted lap. "Mmmmmm...oui, Kimberlee, that is where you are going very soon." Joelle told her, soft brown eyes going to that lap.

Kimberley closed her eyes as she felt Joelle's smooth hand encircle her wrist. Joelle tugged gently, and Kimberley lowered herself over the waiting lap. "Lift." Joelle ordered, and Kimberley obediently raised her hips. Joelle put a strong arm around Kimberley's trim waist, and settled the teenager into position. Kimberley was in such a position that her head and toes pointed at the floor and her bottom was the highest part of her body, facing the ceiling. "Aaahhhhh oui," Joelle said seductively, one hand gliding over Kimberley's upturned buttocks, "la derriere." Kimberley turned her head to one side, and gasped as she saw what sat on the coffee table. A spoon, a plain wooden spoon, it had a long handle and a broad shallow spoon area, with a wide flattened base. Andrea used that one not to cook, but to spank. Kimberley had not felt the spoon from Andrea, but she had experience with the spoon from her mother when she was younger. She doubted that the sting had lessened over the years, and she grimaced as she imagined the fire that spoon would kindle in her sit spots, that tender crease where thigh met buttocks. "Aaaahhhh, you 'ave seen the spoon, no?" Joelle asked, and then answered the question. "Auntee Joelle is going to cook a petite rump." and she giggled at her own feeble witticism.

Kimberley squirmed, and tried to think of other things as Joelle's soft hand stroked, squeezed, massaged and kneaded her waiting bottom. "Are we nervous, Kimberlee?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Kimberley answered in a quavering voice.

"You 'ave been spanked before 'ave you not?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle Clemenceau."

"Then why so frightened, cherie?" the gently accented voice inquired.

"Because I have not been spanked by you before, and it is going to hurt."

"There cherie," her hand lifted, and fell across the centre of Kimberley's flinching bottom, right in the middle with a loud SLAP, "you are," SPANK, "quite," SMACK, "correct!" SPANK.

Kimberley jumped, and squealed loudly with each ringing impact of palm to cheek. Andrea spanked hard, and so did her mother, but Joelle had a different technique, she slapped upwards, lifting the buttock and it somehow stung that little bit more. Kimberley winced, and yelped as another volley sizzled her behind, this time Joelle smacked downwards and slid her hand across the jumping rear.

"Mmmmm...we are getting rosee," Joelle whispered seductively, "are you warm, Kimberlee?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kimberley answered, her blonde tresses brushing the carpet, and tears pricking her eyes.

"Then we are almost readee for the spoon?"

"No, ma'am." Kimberley whimpered, dreading the feel of the cooking implement.

"Ahhhhh, we shall warm you up just a little more, oui?"

Kimberley yelped, squealed and winced through the remainder of a firm hand spanking.

"No, please." she whimpered, as she felt the flat base of that horrid spoon being drawn teasingly across the already stinging red epidermis.

"No, please what?" Joelle demanded, the spoon pausing in its journey across her bottom.

"No, please ma'am." Kimberley said uncertainly, hoping that a demure display would dissuade Joelle from the application of the wooden spoon.

"Aaahhhhh, cherie, you are so compliant and polite, now. Alas, I must cook your derriere up steaming 'ot, for you to learn your lesson."

Joelle leaned slowly across Kimberley's now glowing red bottom, she stopped as her large breasts dangled above the girl's pert rear, and luxuriated in the heat radiating up onto her well developed chest. Kimberley reflexively clenched and unclenched her buttocks, and then her wails hit the air at the same time as Joelle smacked down hard and quick with the spoon. Stinging little pats lit spot fires all over her bottom, Kimberley barely felt the fires from one die down before Joelle expertly kindled another one. The French lady was an experienced spanker, and held the wildly wriggling, kicking girl easily across her ample lap. "Get comfortable, cherie," she advised, "you will be 'ere for some time, yet."

"Yessssss Auntie Joelle!" Kimberley blubbered, tears leaking out of her blue eyes, sliding down her nose, dropping into her hair and onto the carpet.

Joelle made sure that she covered the entire surface of Kimberley's upturned situpon, getting an all over burning hot, crimson colour. Kimberley's bottom throbbed and pulsated, flaring redly when Joelle planted a series of spoon spanks on that area. She lifted the spoon and held it poised over the lovely sore bottom over her lap. Kimberley hiccoughed and gasped as she tried to get her breath back, she knew that tears had ruined her makeup, and that snot and saliva covered her cheeks and chin. Strands of golden blonde hair were plastered to her face with a mixture of tears, sweat, snot and saliva. It was a long time since Kimberley had been so thoroughly spanked and she had an ominous premonition that this was a long way from over.

"I 'ave spoken to Andee and we 'ave decided that for some time your behaviour has been unacceptable, Kimberlee. You are rude and insolent, and that will get you nowhere in the future. This spanking will 'elp you." Having delivered that scolding, Joelle unleashed the spoon on Kimberley's sit spots and upper thighs. Kimberley howled lustily, and tried to levitate off Joelle's firm lap as the spoon felt like the sting of a thousand angry wasps to her tender sit spots and thighs. "Puhleeeese Aunteeeee Joelle!" Kimberley screamed. "I'll buhbuhbee guhgoooodddd. I willlllllllllll!"

When Joelle was satisfied that Kimberley's thighs matched her scarlet bottom, she set the spoon down.

"Now that, Kimberlee is a well spanked bottee."

"I....I....uhhhhhh....I ccan feel that ma'am." Kimberley stammered, her legs still twitching involuntarily as she tried to control the stinging. She knew that after this not only would she have trouble sitting, walking would not be too comfortable for the next few days. Joelle let her lay limply over her knee, catching her breath, and waiting for the gulping sobs to subside.

"Can you get up, cherie?" Joelle asked kindly.

"I think so." Kimberley answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You may rise."

"Thankyou Mademoiselle." Kimberley answered, placing her hands flat on the floor and wincing as she stretched out her le,gs to brace her toes and lever herself off Joelle's lap. Joelle put out a hand and held the girl steady as she threatened to overbalance. Kimberley stood miserably in front of the stern French woman and sniffled, using every ounce of will power that she possessed to keep her hands by her side and not immediately going to her scalded rear end.

"Corner." Joelle ordered shortly, put her hands on Kimberley's waist and turned her firmly to the corner, pushing her gently. Kimberley gulped, and stumbled painfully to the waiting corner.

Kimberley stood in the corner, tears trickling down her cheeks, hands laced over her head and pressing down in an effort to divert her attention from the raging fires blazing in her raspberry red nether regions. An enigmatic smile playing across her full lips, Joelle admired her handiwork as Kimberley sobbed, and her soundly smacked bottom jiggled with each shuddering breath. After Joelle had enjoyed the view for a few minutes, and Kimberley's breathing had regulated, the French woman rose elegantly from the chair and with a rustle of her skirt left the room. In her corner Kimberley frowned as she felt the brief relief of cool air on her burning bottom. Joelle had left the room and entered one of the bedrooms? That did not make sense. If she had gone to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee or to replace the spoon Kimberley would have understood it, but what possible reason could she have for going to one of the bedrooms?

Joelle reentered, and was pleased to see that her young charge had remained in place without being told, she sat down again, and said kindly "Kimberlee, if you wish, you may rub your derriere, cherie."

The adolescent receptionist gratefully removed her hands from her head, and they flew to her abused rear where they began to rub vigorously as she tried desperately to quench the fires roaring through her backside. Joelle watched intently, her brown eyes sparkling, and chuckled throatily as Kimberley sighed in blessed relief as the temperature in her superheated bottom slowly began to lower under her massaging palms.

When Joelle decided that enough was enough she ordered "Remove your 'ands, Kimberlee, turn around, and come back to Auntee Joelle."

Without comment Kimberley did as she was told, and limped to Joelle's knee.

Joelle looked up at the young face with the ruined makeup and the tearstains, and clicked her tongue. "You are too young to wear so much makeup, cherie. I will 'ave a word to Andee and your Maman about that."

"Yes, ma'am." Kimberley said miserably. She knew this would immediately curtail her supply of makeup. Gabrielle had been looking for an excuse to force the girl to wear less makeup, and Kimberley had used the fact that she had to look good on reception as an excuse to use more.

"Back over Auntee Joelle's lap." Joelle commanded, patting her lap invitingly.

Bottom twitching and tingling Kimberley stretched out over the offered lap.

Joelle reached to one side, and picked up something that Kimberley had not seen on the table "Andee told me that you were curious about the present I sent from Paree." she began.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Joelle."

"You must learn to control your inquisitiveness, Kimberlee. It is not an attractive trait, and you may not always like the answers."

Kimberley gulped, it did not sound like anything pleasant was coming up.

"Do you still wish to know what was in that package, young lady?"

Knowing that she was probably asking for a painful reply, but unable to lie, Kimberley whispered "Yes, Aunty Joelle."

"Very well." Joelle answered primly, and the butterflies in Kimberley's tummy flew around wildly.

Kimberley flinched as she felt soft, supple strips of leather being drawn teasingly across her tenderized rear end. "Can you feel that, Kimberlee?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kimberley replied, squirming as the leather tickled unpleasantly.

"Do you know what it is?"

"No." Kimberley answered weakly, trying to keep her tear filled eyes focused on the carpet and Joelle's shoes.

"What does it feel like?"

"Leather, strips of it."

Joelle nodded, and breathed "Lanieres."

"Lanieres?" Kimberley repeated, the question in her voice.

"Aaahhhh cherie, you should have studied 'arder in francais. Lanieres, little leather straps. They make up le martinet."

Kimberley's head snapped up, and her blue eyes opened wide at that last word. She had heard of the martinet, and what she had heard she did not like. It was a traditional French spanking implement, and it was not unlike a miniature whip or flail. She writhed vigorously on Joelle's lap, but the French lady was more powerful than she looked and effectively pinned the teenager in place. "Kimberlee!" she snapped angrily. "Do not make me secure you. Calm down! I will not 'arm you." she reassured, then whispered "Not a lot."

Joelle lifted the martinet, and told Kimberley "You wondered what I sent Andee. This was it, Kimberlee, le martinet. This is its maiden use. If it works on you Andee will use it to scald the derrieres of her customers."

Kimberley howled, and arched her back as the leather strips whipped through the air and seared across her abused bottom.

"That is for being jealous." Joelle informed Kimberley.

"Oooowwwwwww!" Kimberley squealed, and her legs kicked violently as more heat was swathed across her unprotected backside.

"That is for being rude." Joelle scolded.

"Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooo!" Kimberley blubbered as the martinet whipped across her rump once more.

"That is for insolence." Joelle advised.

"Oooohhhhhooooooo! I'm sorrrreeeeeeeee!" the girl wailed, as the sting of the little whip ignited more fires in her bottom.

"That is for disliking people of a race based on one person." Joelle said, her brown eyes flashing with righteous anger.

"I didn't mean it. Aunteeeee!" Kimberley howled, her bottom throbbing with the sting and burn of the fifth stroke of the martinet, legs scissor kicking wildly.

"That is for being a brat for Andee!"

"I'm sorreeeee Aunteeeee!" Kimberley screamed, and burst into uncontrollable tears as the martinet stung again.

Joelle dropped the martinet, and held the trembling girl as the sobs slowly died down.

"Oh, someone got spanked!" Andrea's voice said very matter of factly as she sauntered in the door.

Kimberley turned her tear stained face to Andrea, and sobbed "Aunty Andrea!"

Her employer's face broke into a smile "Good morning, Kimberley Susan. Aunty Joelle certainly looks to have given your bottom a good scalding."

"She did, Aunty Andrea," Kimberley blubbered, "she spspanked muhme, real hhhard. I'm sorry I was so naughty, ma'am."

"Well this is a change," Andrea commented as she settled onto the couch, and crossed her legs, "you've been a little full of yourself of late, darling, and sometimes young ladies need to be reminded that they are still little girls, and as you and I both know, Kimmy, very little does that as well as a good, old fashioned spanking on an unprotected bottom."

Andrea then spied the spoon on the table, and her eyes narrowed "Joelle?" she asked with an edge to her voice.

"Oui." Joelle replied, her hand continuing to absentmindedly fondle Kimberley's roasting red bottom.

"Did you use the spoon AND the martinet on Kimmy?"

"Oui." Joelle repeated, smiling down at the girl's blazing hindquarters.

"And you hand spanked her first?"

"But of course!" Joelle happily answered.

"I see." Andrea answered noncomittally, but her lips compressed into a thin line. "That was a little over the top, wasn't it? I know she needed a spanking, Joelle, but I did not think you were going to spank her three times."

Joelle shrugged "She was naughty, she pays the price."

"It's not the only price that is going to be paid around here." Andrea muttered under her breath and then held out her arms to Kimberley. "Come on, darling. You come and cuddle in Aunty Andrea's lap, whilst Aunty Joelle makes us some coffee."

Kimberley happily scrambled from Joelle's lap, and was soon installed in Andrea's comforting lap having her face gently cleaned, and her hair stroked as Andrea cradled her, and rocked her lovingly.

Joelle had seemed shocked at being summarily dismissed to make the coffee, but did so without comment. Andrea had grown physically and emotionally since Joelle had tutored her in French, and there was something about her manner that told the French woman she was not to be argued with this morning. Kimberley rested her head on Andrea's breast, and made little sounds of pleasure as Andrea stroked her sweat soaked, hair and face, Andrea bent and kissed the tracks of Kimberley's tears gently and the girl felt a shiver of sheer joy ripple through her body and a blissful moist warmth flood her loins. Andrea accepted the steaming cup of coffee from Joelle, and sipped delicately, before asking Kimberley "Kimmy, aside from sore, how do you feel?"

"Sleepy, Aunty Andrea." the girl said, raising adoring tear washed, sky blue eyes to regard her mistress.

Andrea nodded, it was not unusual for a sound spanking to wear someone out, and from the sounds of it Joelle had really gone to town on Kimberley's delightful bottom.

"Would you like to have a little nap in the bedroom, darling?"

"Yes, please, Aunty Andrea."

"Okay, sweetness," Andrea said kindly, helping Kimberley to her feet, and pointing her in the direction of the bedroom, "off you go for a little sleepy bye." she patted Kimberley's still steaming bottom playfully, and Kimberley scurried to the bedroom.

As Kimberley closed the bedroom door, Andrea set her cup down, picked up the martinet, rose from the couch, and advanced on Joelle, the small whip, leather strips dangling, held menacingly in Andrea's hand, her green eyes glittering wickedly. Joelle's eyes opened wide, and she blurted "I did not mean to...."

Kimberley removed her apron, and hung it up, she slipped under the covers, whimpering a little as the cloth contacte,d her abused rear, then sighed in pleasure as she settled into the warm bed and laid her golden head on the fluffy pillow. She could not be sure, but she thought she heard the sound of the martinet cracking sharply against a bottom and the answering wail, it did not sound like Andrea's voice.


  1. Aunty,

    Amazing lines and story, wow, I felt like I was there, great stuff, thanks.

    I am curious, you always post some wonderful pictures but why are drawings like these so dam hot? I love it.

    Many thanks and best regards

  2. Thank you Ron. JPC is a marvelous artist and I agree that his pictures of loving domestic discipline are undeniably sexy. I thank him for sharing his talent with the world.