Tuesday, 19 April 2011

'The Spank Shop - Joelle'

I was having a little daydream today and I was reminded of the first time my old friend and babysitter Joelle came to visit me at the Spank Shop. This was how Seegee interpreted what I told him of that day.

Image from Spanked Sweeties.

It was a busy Monday afternoon in Clarkstown's Spank Shop, and pretty young receptionist Kimberley Kennedy felt rushed off her feet. This happened at the end of every school holiday. Parents brought their children flooding into the shop to have their rears properly warmed by the Spank Shop's elegant and attractive proprietress Andrea Mahoney. Even with the assistance of Kimberley's stern and beautiful mother: Gabrielle, they were still having difficulty matching demand. All the corners were full with glowing red, little bottoms, awaiting paternal pick up and the sounds of a double spanking could be heard emanating from Andrea's parlour, where two children were draped over the knees of Andrea and Gabrielle, as the women soundly applied hairbrush and slipper respectively to the recalcitrant behinds upturned over their knees.

Kimberley sat back, finished her Excel ledger entry, and then watched their most recent client leave rubbing his bottom ruefully as he trailed behind his mother. The teenage receptionist glanced at the three remaining backsides in the corner, and sighed. She massaged her temples, and closed her blue eyes. They snapped open as the phone rang harshly, and jangled her nerves. What now? She thought in exasperation, as she snatched the phone from the cradle and said in her best, most pleasant reception voice "Spank Shop. This is Kimberley, how may I help you?"

"'Allo. May I speak with Andee, please?" a woman's voice, speaking French accented English floated over the other end of the phone.

"Ummm...," Kimberley began, not sure how to respond, "Miss Andrea," she emphasized the 'Miss', "is busy at present. May I ask who is calling and take a message?"

"My name is Joelle Clemenceau and I will 'old for Andee."

Hold? Kimberley thought, she wanted to hold. How can I do that? I don't even have a hold button.

"Uhhhh....Mrs Clemenceau I can't...."

"Mademoiselle!" the French lady snapped. "I am not married, please put me on 'old until Andee is free."

"I can't put you on...." Kimberley tried to explain, then the parlour door opened and Andrea called "Kimmy, Daniel is done with his spanking and your Mum is just finishing up with Joanne, do we have any free corners?"

Kimberley held the mouthpiece of the phone to her breast to cover it and answered in a somewhat harassed voice "I've only got one free, ma'am."

"Okay, we'll pop Joanne in that one and Daniel can do his cornertime here with us. Do you think you could see your way clear to putting the kettle on, dear?"

"Uhhhh yeah, I guess so." Kimberley murmured. "I've got this French lady on the phone who is demanding to speak to Andee." the blonde girl mimicked Mademoiselle Clemenceau's accent.

"Andee," Andrea repeated in a wondering tone, and then laughed, "put her through please, sweetheart."

Kimberley shrugged, and told the haughty French caller "Putting you through now, Madam." making sure that she accentuated the 'Madam', transferring the call before the lady could snap at her again.

Kimberley was making tea when Gabrielle joined her in the kitchen.

"Busy day, Mum?" Kimberley asked.

"Oh goodness, yes, sweetness. I had no idea this place could be so busy. I don't think I've ever seen and slapped so many bottoms in all my life."

Kimberley giggled "It was worse before you agreed to help Aunty Andrea out. Who is that French lady? She was very rude."

"I honestly don't know, Kimmy. Andrea seemed to want to take the call in private. Do you want me to watch the quartet of bottoms out there whilst you make the tea?"

"Yes, please, Mum. That would be great." 

Kimberley delivered the tea to Andrea, where the disciplinarian was curled up on the couch, laughing delightedly at something the mysterious caller had said, she motioned to her receptionist to place the tea tray on the table and waved her out. Kimberley relieved her mother at the reception desk. Only two corners were still occupied now and two more mothers had entered with nervous children awaiting their turn over Andrea's knee. Gabrielle went to one mother and son, and took the youngster by the hand saying "C'mon Jonathan. Aunty Andrea is busy at the moment, sweetheart, but I am sure that Aunty Gabrielle can make that bottom blush." and she led the boy into one of the bedrooms. Kimberley smiled as she heard the unmistakable and distinctive sound of a hard maternal palm meeting tender, young bottom flesh, and the answering wail. An anxious young college boy arrived and stammered out to Kimberley "Samuel Jensen. I....I...have an appointment."

Kimberley consulted her appointment book, and treated the young man to one of her dazzling smiles with a "Yes, you do, Sammy."

She hit the intercom on her desk.

Andrea heard it buzz, and said to her caller "Joelle, I am really sorry, darling, but you have caught me on the busiest day ever," she paused as Joelle said something, "next Tuesday? Yes! That would be wonderful! I'll have Kimmy block out the afternoon. Next Tuesday then?"

She hung up the phone, and answered the intercom "Yes, Kim?"

"Ma'am, Sammy is here for his four o'clock spanking."

"Excellent! Can you please pop him into an apron and bring him in here to me?" 

"No problem." Kimberley answered as she rose and asked Jonathan's mother "Would you please watch Joanne and Daniel to make sure that they don't rub, ma'am?"

"Delighted." the lady answered, turning her eyes to the plump, blazing red rears in the corners.

"Come on, Sammy," Kimberley prompted the boy, taking his sweaty palm in hers, "time to get you all ready to go over Aunty Andrea's knee."

The boy blushed to the roots of his short, neat, brown hair as the two mothers shared a smile and Daniel sniggered in his corner.

I love my job, Kimberley thought as she landed a firm pat on the boy's rear to encourage him into the change room.

"What a day!" Andrea sighed to herself as she poured herself a steaming cup of coffee, switched on the TV and curled up on the couch, wrapping her hands around the big mug and inhaling the warm steam blissfully. Downtime was just what she needed. Andrea's mind wandered as the images on the screen flickered and she went back to the call she had received from Joelle earlier that day. Joelle Clemenceau had been a big part of her adolescent life, but not someone that she had thought about in years.

Andrea had been thirteen years old when the Clemenceaus had moved in next door. They were a well to do French family. They had two daughters. Odile and Joelle. Andrea rarely saw Odile as she was attending the Sorbonne and only came home for holidays. Joelle had been sixteen when her parents made the move from France and she and the adolescent Andrea had hit it off very well. One thing that had bonded the two girls well had been Joelle's ability with her native tongue. Andrea had been taking French at school and it was one subject that she had problems with. Joelle had been hired as a tutor. Andrea found out after a few lessons where she had not treated it seriously and goofed off that Joelle; her girlfriend, and Joelle; her tutor, were two different people. Joelle the friend giggled and talked about boys. Joelle the tutor was stern and all business. After three tutoring sessions where Andrea had wasted her time and learned nothing Joelle stalked over to the giggling thirteen year old, and in one movement yanked her off the chair she was sitting on and placed her bottom up over a waiting lap. Andrea squealed "Eeeeek!" as the French girl's hand impacted on her round derriere.

"Oh Andee!" Joelle had scolded. "You did not feel that! You still 'ave a skirt and pantees covering your derriere." Having pointed that out, the girl swept the skirt of Andrea's school uniform up and lowered her panties, twisting them tightly around her knees to minimize the kicking. She used her hand to spank soundly all over the bottom and watched it change from white to a bright, hot pink. She scolded as she spanked and when she set a blubbering Andrea back on her seat promised another spanking, this time with a ruler, if more attention was not paid.

Andrea avoided the ruler that time, but received it countless times afterwards. Joelle also became her, and her sister's regular babysitter ,and it was not unusual for the French teen to have to put both girls over her knee during the course of the evening. Andrea never saw her own bottom after a spanking from Joelle, but she knew that it felt every bit as hot as when her mother spanked her, she did however see her little sister's bottom and it glowed so brightly it just about lit up the room. Joelle was always stern when she spanked, but after corner time she was always loving and gentle. Andrea considered herself to be straight in her teens, but there was a time when she was fourteen that she had been desperately in love with Joelle. She had never admitted it to her friend, but on a few occasions she had been deliberately naughty just so Joelle would spank her, because it led to a delightful kiss and cuddle session afterwards. Andrea blushed as she reflected on her teen encounters with Joelle Clemenceau, and another thought hit her. She and Joelle had often discussed boys as teenage girls are wont to do, but she had never seen Joelle with a boyfriend, yet she was undeniably attractive, and when she was at college she had on occasion brought a female friend home to spend the holidays, but not once a boy. She could not be gay, could she? Andrea sipped her coffee and giggled as the Seinfeld line popped into her head: "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

She was looking forward to next Tuesday when she renewed her acquaintance with Joelle. She wondered what the French lady would think of her chosen line of work.

Kimberley frowned down at her appointment book, she pursed her pink lips and huffily blew air out through them, the annoyed movement blew a lock of golden hair off her furrowed forehead and made it bounce comically. Blank. There was not a single appointment from one o'clock this Tuesday afternoon until closing time. Kimberley had been forced to juggle appointments all over the place just because Aunty Andrea's friend, the annoying French woman, Mademoiselle Joelle Clemenceau was coming to visit.

"I cannot believe this," Kimberley muttered, angrily tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, "I had to clear an entire afternoon of appointments, some of them regular weeklys, because of some cheese eating, surrender monkey!" Kimberley almost giggled as she vocalized the insult, admittedly it was childish, but the pretty blonde receptionist had never liked French people. It had to do with her high school French teacher: Monsieur Perrotet. The man had been short, plump and greasy. He was also sleazy and had continually been offering to give Kimberley after school tutoring. The thought of being locked in a room with the man one on one made her physically ill. Her experiences had put her off French people for life. Besides Mademoiselle Clemenceau had been very rude to her.

Kimberley looked up as the bell over the door tinkled and a tall, slender, immaculately dressed brunette swept in. She stood in the doorway, her brown eyes scanned the room imperiously, she opened her long grey overcoat, revealing a perfectly fitted, long dress in the latest style. The dress came to her ankles and her feet were shod with glittering black leather, high heeled boots. "You are Kimberlee?" she asked in her accented English.

"Yes, I am Kimberley," the girl replied, making sure that she pronounced her name correctly, "and you are?"

"Joelle Clemenceau." the lady announced, her eyes challenging the girl.

"You're late." Kimberley said snappily.

Joelle patted her wavy brown hair into place and was about to reprimand the girl for her manner when Andrea entered the room.

"Joelle!" she exclaimed, rushing to the lady with open arms.

"Andee!" Joelle squealed in delight, and the two women hugged each other.

They broke their embrace, and a smiling Andrea said "Kimberley, this is my very good friend and old French tutor Mademoiselle Joelle Clemenceau."

"We've met." Kimberley said tightly.

"Oui," Joelle confirmed, "Kimberlee was telling me that my watch is slow, cherie."

Andrea gave Joelle a quizzical loo,k and then raised an eyebrow at Kimberley, which the teenager knew meant that she would be grilled on the matter later on and that could also possibly mean a grilling for her bottom afterwards. 

"Kim, we're going to retire to my parlour to talk. I know I'd like a cup of coffee and I am sure Joelle could use one."

"Ahhhh ma cherie," Joelle clapped her hands, "you read my mind. CafΘ is just what I need."

Kimberley sighed, and rose from her desk to head to the kitchen and make the coffee.

"Kimberlee," Joelle called, "CafΘ au lait, s'il vous plait."

"You know that means, sweetheart?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Kimberley replied, "coffee with milk, if you please." then under her breath, "The silly French bint thinks I'm stupid."

Kimberley brought the coffee in and set it on the table. Andrea and Joelle were seated on the couch chatting animatedly. Kimberley turned to leave and was stopped by Andrea's voice "Kimmy, could you stay to pour please, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am." the adolescent sighed, what she really wanted to do was get out of Joelle Clemenceau's presence and lose herself in her book, it was not as if there would be much else to do this afternoon, except take the occasional phone call.

Kimberley poured a steaming cup of coffee for Andrea and added milk and sugar according to her employer's preferences. She looked at Joelle with the question in her cornflower blue eyes "I will direct you, Kimberlee." Joelle told her.

Kimberley gritted her perfect white teeth, and prepared Joelle's coffee to the ladies instructions. She handed it to the brunette, and almost fled the room.

Andrea and Joelle talked non stop, there was a lot to catch up on. Joelle had heard about Andrea's less than mundane career choice from her own mother. Andrea's sister still lived in the area that the girls had grown up in and occasionally ran into Madam Clemenceau. Joelle herself had moved back to France when she completed college and worked as a fashion designer. She had her own small label, but it was growing and Joelle certainly looked to be doing well for herself.

"Aaahhhh, cherie," Joelle sighed, looking warmly at Andrea, "to think that the petite fille I once spanked is now a grown woman spanking the derriere for a living."

Andrea laughed "I must have had a good teacher."

Joelle sipped her coffee and her brown eyes grew serious "I think that your Mama deserves the credit for that, not moi."

"Well, I never failed a French exam whilst you were teaching me." Andrea reminded her former tutor.

"A spanking focuses the mind, Andee."

Andrea knew that tone, Joelle was not just talking about the adolescent spankings she handed out to her and her sister "You still spank, don't you?"

Joelle shrugged non comittally.

"You do, you wicked lady!" Andrea pressed with a smile. "Tell me! Tell me all, Joelle!"

Joelle's eyes sparkled over the rim of her coffee cup.

"I take in interns," she confessed, "young ladees wishing to learn the fashion industry. They are the age of your Kimmee, mostly and sometimes they need a lesson over Aunty Joelle's knee."

"How often? How many?" an eager Andrea asked, her own green eyes glittering.

"Maybe once a month. I have four interns a year. One every quarter. Too few Mamas spank these days." she ended on a solemn note.

Andrea dropped her own eyes, it was a shame in her opinion that not enough parents recognised the value of a good spanking applied to their offspring's seats, but then again if more did she would be out of a job.

There was a silence, and as Andrea regarded the elegant and stylish Frenchwoman in the flickering light of the fire she began to wonder if Joelle could and, if more importantly, would spank her. There was a longing to return to the closeness and security of her teenage years, a need to regain the feeling that only a bare bottom, seat warming over Joelle's knee could give her. For her part Joelle looked at the confident, beautiful woman that the pretty, somewhat awkward adolescent Andrea had turned into. When she spanked fire into Andrea's perfectly formed, teenage backside she had never dreamt that the adolescent would become a professional disciplinarian who by all accounts was extraordinarily good and thorough at her job.

"Andrea," Joelle said, using Andrea's full first name, but pronouncing it with the French inflection on the first letter, "you 'ave done well for yourself. This is a lovely 'ouse and you 'ave a thriving business. Kimberlee needs an attitude adjustment, but is a nice, spirited fille."

Andrea set her cup down and responded to the Kimberley comment "I'm not sure what is wrong with little Miss Kimberley today, but rest assured I will get to the bottom of it."

Joelle hid a smile, she was sure that the grown up Andrea would most certainly discuss the teenage receptionist's behaviour and that a bottom would be involved, more than likely Mademoiselle Kennedy's bottom bare and hot and red over Andrea's stern knee.

"Is it 'ard to manage?" Joelle asked Andrea.

"The shop?" Andrea searched for clarification.


"Well the spanking itself, not really. I see myself as doing the local community a well needed service. I'm friends with one of the local constabulary and she tells me that incidences of teenage crime are far less in Clarkstown than in neighbouring suburbs and I apparently take some of the credit for that. It can be a little hard on the arm," Andrea said with a chuckle, "but I set my own hours and surprisingly enough it pays well."

"I did not really mean that, Andee. I was speaking of the legalitees of running a business. Tax and such."

"Oh God!" Andrea sighed. "Tax is a nightmare. It starts with what do I list my business as? There isn't really a category: administering spankings, on their forms."

Joelle poured herself another cup of coffee and giggled.

"'Ow do you fill them out, then?"

Andrea winced "I got so fed up with it last year that I told a few fibs."

Joelle's cup paused halfway to her mouth and her green eyes narrowed "Fibbed?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

Andrea squirmed "Yeah, you know a couple of white lies."

"Lied?" Joelle said, her tone still stern and worrying for Andrea.

"Nothing major, Joelle. They were just a pain. I paid taxes for years and they get their pound of flesh, believe me."

"Andee, what sort of things do you spank the children who are brought 'ere by their Mama's and Papa's?"

"Well, there are a whole range of things, really Joelle. Stealing, slacking, not working hard enough at school, skipping class, lying...."

"Lying?" Joelle repeated, flicking her brown curls. "You spank the children for lying, yet you lie yourself? Is that not a double standard?"

"They were just little fibs." Andrea tried to defend herself unsuccessfully.

"I am sure there are some sore, glowing derrieres out there that told some 'little fibs'." Joelle told Andrea, her eyes holding the willowy disciplinarians.   

Andrea swallowed hard and she examined the lady seated on the couch next to her, she started to wonder what it would feel like to be taken over those long, toned, silk sheathed legs and held down across the firm, beige skirted lap. The familiar tingle began to build in her bottom, a tingle that she had not felt since she was in her early twenties and her mother had decided that her college student daughter was a little too big for her britches and needed to be taken down a peg or two. "What do you think, Andrea Michelle?" Joelle asked, her eyes steady.

"Ummmm...," a suddenly dry mouthed Andrea searched for an answer, "I think that you are correct, Joelle."

"Maybe that should be ma'am." Joelle suggested.

Andrea licked her lips, Joelle had last insisted on being called ma'am the last time she had spanked Andrea. Joelle had been home from college and a seventeen year old Andrea had brought home a French test with a D+. It was a pass, but Joelle knew that the girl could do much better. At the first opportunity Joelle had taken Andrea into her room and gone through the test question by question. The impromptu tutoring had been finished off with a sound spanking and Andrea's French had immediately improved. As Joelle had asserted earlier that day 'a spanking focuses the mind.'

Andrea had a decision to make, she knew that Joelle was suggesting that she be spanked for cheating a little on her tax return, Andrea's decision was did she want that spanking? Joelle herself was thinking that this afternoon had taken an unexpected, if not entirely unpleasant, turn. As Andrea had wondered the previous week Joelle was in fact gay. Andrea had been too young when she was a teenager for Joelle to even consider, but she had matured into an attractive woman and now as an adult she would be even more fun to spank than when she had been a child. Joelle had often admired the teenage Andrea's bottom when she had laid it across her lap for her 'tender' ministrations, but they were feelings that she denied, because the girl's parents had entrusted Andrea's well being to her, she was being spanked for misbehaviour, not for Joelle's personal pleasure. For her part Joelle had never given Andrea a spanking that she did not deserve, although she did suspect that the girl had deliberately engineered some situations to go over Joelle's knee. She understood teenage crushes.

"Well Andrea?" Joelle broke the silence hanging over them.

"Are you suggesting that I should be given a spanking?" Andrea asked, her voice somewhat incredulous.

"You admitted to lying." Joelle told Andrea.

"I admitted I stretched the truth a little on my tax return." the dark haired business woman clarified the situation.

"A lie with another name. Would your Mama spank you for lying?"

"Well, yes, you know she would Joelle."

"As your Mama is not here, maybe someone else needs to take her place."

"And you are that someone?"

"I am if you wish me to be, ma cherie."

Andrea swallowed hard, she said nothing, but stood and crossed to the parlour door. She opened it a crack and called softly "Kimberley."

Kimberley looked up from her book, slightly startled "Do you want more coffee, ma'am?"

"No, thankyou, sweetheart. Could you please pull the blind on the door and take any calls? I'll be taking the phone in the parlour off the hook and I do not want to be disturbed. In fact unless the building is on fire do not even attempt to enter the parlour. Is that understood, young lady?"

Kimberley looked into her employer's steady eyes and replied slowly "Yes, Aunty Andrea."

"Thankyou, dear."

The door clicked shut and Kimberley heard it being locked. Locked? She thought. Andrea never locked the parlour door. The girl shook her blonde mane as she stood and went to the front door to pull the blind. This was one of the more bizarre afternoons she had experienced at work. Quiet, but weird.

Andrea turned to face Joelle, the French lady was seated on the couch, one silk stockinged leg crossed over the other, the leg swinging idly, a smile played across her full, sensuous lips.

"Am I to be your Mama, cherie?" Joelle asked.

Andrea lowered her chestnut head and whispered "Yes."

"Come to Mama, then sweetling." Joelle purred.

On suddenly wobbly legs Andrea walked to the couch.

Joelle looked up at her and commanded "Lift your 'ead please, Andrea Michelle."

Andrea winced as both of her first names were used, she used it herself with many of the children she disciplined as she knew what an effective technique it was for turning even a grown, adult woman into a disobedient child. She raised her head and looked into her old friend's soft, brown eyes.

"Did we bring you up to lie, Andrea Michelle?"

"No, ma'am."

"Yet you lied about your tax, about money. 'Ow much did you save? Pennies?"

"Something like that." a furiously blushing Andrea admitted.

"I am sad, Andee. Sad that you 'ad to lie. 'Ow do we deal with liars in this 'ouse?"

Andrea felt her cheeks heating up, she had forgotten about this little technique of Joelle's. The French girl never simply spanked, she made you admit what you had done to earn it and effectively forced you to ask for the spanking.

"Y...you sp..spank them." she stammered.

"Oh yes, la fessee," Joelle agreed, using the French word for spanking, "but as your mouth 'as transgressed as much as your derriere, should it not also be punished?"

"Oh God!" Andrea murmured, that was another thing she had forgotten. Joelle liked to wash mouths out. How could she have possibly have forgotten the horrid taste of the soapy washcloth as Joelle held her tightly and rubbed the awful stuff over her teeth, tongue and gums until Andrea was gagging on it? She did want to be spanked, that was true, she never would have admitted cheating on her tax otherwise, she had been curious to see if being spanked by Joelle as an adult would kindle the same sort of flames in her loins as it had when she were a teenager and harboured a huge crush on the coldly beautiful, elegant French girl. She knew however that having her mouth washed out with a lathered washcloth would be humiliating and unpleasant. "I....ummmm....I did not fill it out verbally, ma'am. My tax return. I filled it out in writing."

"So your 'ands transgressed?"

"Yes." she admitted, with relief.

"Hmmm...they will be punished, I assure you." Joelle promised and left Andrea to wonder exactly how.

Joelle placed the coffee cups and saucers back on the tray and removed it to a small table that stood against one wall. Andrea was a kicker when she was spanked and Joelle did want her flailing legs to upset the coffee set and break it. "What is in this cupboard, Andee?" she asked innocently, looking at the tall cupboard where Andrea stored most of her spanking implements.

Andrea took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady as she replied "Paddles, straps, that sort of thing."

"Aaahhhhh," Joelle said in a tone that implied understanding, "tools of the trade, oui?"

"Something like that." Andrea answered weakly.

Joelle opened the cupboard and ordered over her shoulder "Please remove your shoes and stockings, young ladee."

The French lady scanned the shelves of the cupboard, looking for what she wanted. She selected a short, broad strap and a rectangular hairbrush of highly polished cherry wood.

Andrea stood by the couch in bare feet, shifting nervously from foot to foot "Do you need to go pee pee, Andee?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then, please stop dancing on the spot, it is most distracting."

It was then that Andrea's eyes went to Joelle's long fingered, perfectly manicured, slender hands and what she held in them and her knees went weak. The big rectangular hairbrush and the short strap. It was at that moment she knew how Joelle would discipline her hands for cheating on her tax return.

Joelle seated herself and looked up at Andrea, her eyes sparkled and she said "You disappoint me, Andee."


"No martinet, amongst your 'tools of trade." Joelle observed, disappointment obvious in her voice.

"No, Miss."

"You simply must 'ave one, cherie. I will send you one when I get 'ome to Paree."

Andrea nodded miserably, the tingling in her bottom was almost unbearable, although there was a curious heat of arousal building down low also as she looked at the stern fashion designer.

"'Old our your 'ands, please Andrea Michelle." Joelle commanded.

Andrea sighed and held her hands out, palms up, she knew what Joelle planned, she had done it often enough to clients. She preferred to use a ruler, but the strap would work, work too well, Andrea thought with genuine fear shooting through her hands. She curled her fingers involuntarily. "Keep them flat, Andee. I do not want to damage your fingers, just make them smart."

With supreme effort Andrea extended her fingers, and then closed her eyes as Joelle raised the strap.

The sound of the short, thick strap smacking across Andrea's palm echoed around the room. Andrea howled. She had not felt that since her final year of high school, the intervening years had not made it hurt any less. The second crack rang out, and was closely followed by Andrea's full throated wail.

Six times Joelle flashed the wicked, little strap down across Andrea's hands, three strokes to each palm. They flared brick red, and Andrea could feel them throbbing dully. "You may remove your 'ands, Andee." Joelle told her and set the strap down on the coffee table.

Tears glistening in her eyes Andrea quickly pulled her hands back, she blew on them furiously and then to Joelle's amusement jammed them under her arms to try and cool them down and soothe them somehow.

Joelle watched Andrea desperately try and ease the burning in her hands and saw the trembling lip and the tears trickling down the brunette's smooth cheeks and then thought to herself. Ahhhhh no, I have misjudged her, it was too harsh. I must be more loving and gentler.

"Andee, sweetness." Joelle said softly to get the ladies attention.

Sniffling, Andrea looked at Joelle, seated on the couch.

"Over my knee, s'il te plait." she ordered, patting her lap.

Whimpering Andrea shuffled to the side of Joelle's knee and made to lower herself. Joelle placed a hand on the firm, flat stomach and cautioned "Not yet, cherie. We must prepare the derriere."

"Prepare?" a confused Andrea asked.

Joelle nodded and slid her hands up under Andrea's skirt, enjoying the feel of her smooth legs, Andrea thrilled to the touch of Joelle's sure hands. Her eyes on Andrea's, Joelle hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the sheer, lacy pink panties, Andrea sighed as Joelle's palm brushed the soft, triangular thatch of brown hair between her legs as she slipped the panties down. Andrea stepped out of them when they hit her ankles and Joelle placed them out of the way. Andrea trembled as her skirt was unbuttoned and unzipped and also removed. She stood in front of Joelle, eyes fixed on the rug under her feet, but feeling the French ladies bewitching brown eyes on her.

Joelle reached out and took hold of Andrea's wrist, guiding her over the waiting knee. "You 'ave been 'ere before, 'ave you not, cherie?" she asked gently.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oui." Joelle murmured as she glided her palm across the smooth, rounded white bottom over her lap. "So white, so soft and tender." she cooed, pinching and patting the mounds in front of her.

Andrea wriggled and squirmed as Joelle began to gently and slowly smack the bottom nestled in her lap. Slowly, gradually Joelle increased the tempo and severity of the smacks. Andrea felt her bottom heat up and the prickly sting of the slaps began to settle in, her legs rubbed together in an effort to control the feeling. Joelle smiled and felt the warmth building in front as Andrea pressed deeper into her lap. She continued the spanking, making the spanks sting more with each smack.

Joelle stopped her spanking and ran her hand across the pink, warm flesh, watching the trail of gooseflesh that her teasing hand left in its wake. Andrea sighed and moaned, a shudder ran through her body. "Ah, ma cherie, you need release. Mama Joelle will give that to you, darling."

As Andrea heard the words she was hit with the sudden realization that Joelle was right, she did need release, the stress release that a good spanking provided, however the gentle love taps she had so far been given were not what Andrea saw as a 'good spanking'. A good spanking turned the bottom into a ball of scorching, hot, red pain, it produced floods of tears and scissor kicking legs, cries and wails of anguish.

Andrea had no further time to reflect on the results of a good spanking as Joelle's palm impacted sharply across first one upthrust hemisphere and then the other. Andrea yelled and bucked, Joelle settled into a steady rhythm, her firm, experienced hand rebounding crisply off one rapidly reddening globe before planting a stinging kiss on its twin. Andrea wriggled vigorously in a vain attempt to avoid the spanking palm, her legs kicked and she gave full voice to her protests. Then the tears started to trickle down her cheeks, and Joelle knew that she was succeeding.

Outside in reception Kimberley heard the sounds faintly through the door, she placed her book face down on her desk and frowned. She was very familiar with those barely audible noises, but why were they coming from the parlour now? That was the sound of a spanking in progress, an expertly administered spanking. Surely Andrea could not be spanking Joelle. Kimberley could not imagine the arrogant French woman submitting to a good, old fashioned, over the knee, pants downer even at the hands of the composed and stern Andrea. Looking around guiltily Kimberley got to her feet ,and went to the parlour door, she lowered herself to her knees and put her eye to the keyhole. All she could see was one very red bottom being soundly smacked by a feminine hand. Darn! Who was spanking who? That was when Kimberley saw the green nail polish on the spanking hand. Andrea had nail polish on, but it was not green, it had been red, Kimberley was sure of that. "Oh my God!" the girl whispered, she stood up and went back to her desk, staring blankly into space, her stomach churning madly, there was a sheen of perspiration on her forehead and she could feel a strange arousal in her groin as she pictured herself in Andrea's place over Joelle's knee.

Joelle administered two last stinging slaps to Andrea's lobster red bottom and let the lady blubber and sob over her knee as she lay there limply. "'Ave you been sufficiently punished,  Andee?"

Andrea sighed and felt the heat flood through her pulsating bottom, she lifted a hand to remove a strand of hair plastered to her cheek with a combination of sweat, tears and saliva and tuck it back into place. Andrea knew she would hate herself for saying this, but she had to "No, Joelle. I have not."

"Tres bien, Andrea!" Joelle clapped her hands delightedly. "You know you need this and you know I will give it to you."

Joelle reached across Andrea's steaming backside, luxuriating in the heat that radiated from the glowing bottom up onto her full breasts and picked up the hairbrush. She placed the flat, cool, rectangular back on Andrea's bottom and glided it across the sore flesh in a lazy circular pattern "Please, Joelle," Andrea begged, her voice breaking, "please spank me. Do it good....good and hard."

Joelle lifted the brush, tightened her grip around its handle and said "As you wish, cherie."

CRACK SMACK SPANK SPLAT the brush slammed down across Andrea's bottom. The disciplinarian jerked and howled, her legs kicked and the tears started to flow again.

"JOELLE!" she screamed as the French lady delivered a blistering volley to Andrea's sit spot, right where thighs and buttocks met.

"Yes, Andee?" Joelle asked calmly, concentrating the brush on Andrea's shapely, creamy, white thighs.

Andrea kicked uncontrollably, her nose streamed and her head whipped from side to side as spot fires started on her oh so tender thighs.

"I," SPANK, "love" SPANK, "you!" Andrea bawled and Joelle administered one, two and three cracks of the brush to the crowns of the blazing red buttocks over her lap.

Joelle set the brush down and said warmly "That, cherie, was all I wanted to 'ear."

Joelle put her arms around the sobbing Andrea, and gathered her into her lap, she lay the damp cheek to her breast, and stroked Andrea's sweat soaked hair as she cried and shook.

"Andee?" Joelle asked softly.

"Yes, Joelle, darling?" Andrea responded.

"I would like some coffee, should I ask Kimberlee?"

Andrea's eyes snapped open "Oh God! Kimberley! She can't see me like this. She'll lose all respect for me."

Joelle nodded "I thought as much. You should go to the bathroom and clean up. I will make excuses to your fille, she will not disbelieve me."

"Yes, Joelle." Andrea sighed.

Kimberley quickly picked up her book, and pretended to be reading it as she heard the lock in the parlour door being turned "Kimberlee!" Joelle's softly accented voice called.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Clemenceau." Kimberley answered sweetly.

"Could you please make some cafe for Andrea and myself?"

"Uhhh yeah, sure."

As Kimberley stood and headed for the kitchen Joelle spoke again "CafΘ...."

"Au lait, s'il vous plait, I know." Kimberley finished with an impish smile playing across her lips.

Kimberley brought two steaming cups of coffee into the parlour, and as she set them down and collected the coffee set that Joelle had placed on the side table earlier she saw no Andrea, only Joelle seated calmly on the couch. The door to the cupboard containing the implements was slightly ajar and what was that damp stain on the breast of Joelle's dress? "Where's Aunty Andrea?" Kimberley asked.

"Freshening up." Joelle answered innocently.

Kimberley frowned, but sighed and left the room.

Andrea poked her head around the bathroom door, and whispered "Has she gone?"

"Yes, cherie," Joelle chuckled warmly and sipped her coffee, "she 'as gone. You may drink your cafΘ, and then come to Mama Joelle."

Andrea bent slightly and winced as the movement stretched the freshly spanked skin tight. She picked up the gently steaming cup and blew on it to cool it, she drank it standing up and looked longingly at Joelle's inviting lap.

Joelle looked up and saw Andrea's longing look, she also felt her own groin heat up slightly as her eyes lingered on the burning red bottom and the moist triangle of dark curls between Andrea's long, slender legs.

She set her cup down, and held out her arms. "Come to Mama Joelle." she purred.

Andrea's eyes filled with gratitude, she put her cup down and joyfully slid into Joelle's lap and allowed those warm arms to enfold her.

"Ahhhhh my baby," Joelle whispered, pressing Andrea's head to her breast, and gently massaging her breasts through the thin material of her blouse, "let Joelle soothe all the hurt away, cherie."

Andrea sighed and let out a squeak as Joelle's massaging made her nipples stand out hard and erect.  Joelle brought her to a boil and leaned her head down to kiss Andrea's long, graceful neck. Andrea shivered and the lips moved up her neck and along the line of her jaw, the gently kissed the tear tracks on both cheeks and then Joelle playfully kissed Andrea's nose and smiled at the girlish giggle the action provoked. Joelle's lips moved down onto Andrea's pink lips and Andrea responded hungrily, Andrea's arms tightened around Joelle's neck as their lips melded together, tongues parted lips and they kissed long and hard, as they broke apart a string of saliva stretching from Joelle's lips to Andrea's shone like a dew touched spider's web in morning sunlight for a fraction of a second before it broke and disappeared.

Joelle's hand slid across Andrea's blouse, brushing across those erect nipples and then her fingers tiptoed across one silky smooth thigh before exploring the forest of hot, moist, springy brown curls that Andrea proudly wore across her front. Joelle smiled as her fingers searched and found the opening to Andrea's pleasure spot. Andrea gasped and arched her back as Joelle's skilful fingers opened the slippery slit and slid in and out. Her own breath coming in short pants Joelle undid the first few buttons on her dress with her free hand, she worked one full, creamy white breast free and offered it to Andrea's questing mouth. Andrea's lips closed around the nipple and Joelle's brown eyes opened wide as Andrea's tongue slid across her nipple and brought it immediately erect. Joelle's fingers became ever quicker and more frantic, sliding in and out, as Andrea suckled her. Andrea moaned, her back arched and she soaked Joelle's hand in a wet sticky rush as she climaxed.

Joelle slowly unwrapped a spent Andrea from her, and made her way to the bathroom explaining to a glowing Andrea "Now it is moi who must 'freshen up', Andee."

She reappeared, wiping her hand on a towel and her cheeks were flushed. Andrea was now sitting up and had herself under some sort of control, but she was still naked from the waist down.

"Je regrette," Joelle said sadly, "I must leave, but I 'ope we can meet again before I return to Paree."

"Ohhhh," Andrea murmured seductively, still basking in the afterglow, "we shall if I have anything to do with it, Joelle."

Joelle smiled, leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Andrea's blazing cheek.

"Joelle," Andrea called as the French lady went to the door, "can you please ask Kimmy to close up and leave for the day? I just don't feel up to it."

"Consider it done, cherie."

Kimberley looked up from her book as Joelle closed the parlour door behind her. "Andrea asked me to ask you to close up, Kimberlee."

Kimberley's chin rose defiantly "I don't take orders from you."

"It is not my order, Kimberlee. It is your Aunty Andrea's. If you were to displease 'er, she may let me spank you, do you want that?"

"No, ma'am!" Kimberley said, sitting bolt upright, her cheeks colouring.

"Then do as you are told."

Kimberley quickly shut down her computer and closed up, she shut the door behind Joelle and sad her goodbyes as she rushed off down the street to the safety of home.

Joelle watched the pert, adolescent bottom under the tight, grown up skirt that Kimberley wore and wondered if maybe Kimberley could be introduced to the joys of her lap the next time she met with Andrea.

Andrea stood in her office, wearing a thin, black negligee. Oh how her bottom hurt! What a delightful hurt it was! She opened a draw and riffled through the labelled folders until she found the thick one entitled Tax. She looked quickly through her most recent tax return and smiled as her eyes scanned the columns, the correctly filled in columns. Well, she thought with a shrug, I was spanked for lying and lie I did, just not quite the way Joelle believed. She closed the door as her hand slipped underneath her negligee and absent mindedly rubbed her still warm, pink bottom.

Image from Premium Spankings.


  1. Oh, that's just plain yummy! I love to see the disciplinarian disciplined. I do believe Aunt Carla is going to have to go over a strict lady's knee some time soon.

    Speaking of which, would you give me permission to write such a story...one in which Aunt Carla visits her friend Aunty Andrea to get her own disciplinary needs sorted out? I'd love to do that.


    Carla Marie

  2. Aunty.

    Wow, what a story, am somewhat breathless, so well written and yes ma'am, hot.

    Great lines, and love the tow pics, wow!

    Thank you


  3. Thankyou both for commenting. Joelle is quite hot, I agree, Ron.
    We'll talk more about the story, Carla.