Sunday, 26 February 2012

Pretty in Pink

These two photos from Firm Hand Spanking are a delightful depiction of a spanking, featuring both the spanking itself and the aftermath as a soundly spanked young lady tries to soothe her hot stinging cheeks. I called it Pretty in Pink, because not only does her bottom glow rosily, her outfit seems to be predominantly pink. Just something fun for a Monday.

I do love the spankee's adorably bratty expression. She is just begging to have her bottom slapped and the woman over whose lap she is draped is doing an admirable job of it, as the colour of 'Miss Pink's' bottom attests.

Aren't they always so cute as they do the 'hot bottom boogie' and desperately try to quench the fires in their recently flamed botties? The young woman on the couch has such a stern and unconcerned expression, too. Lovely.

Friday, 24 February 2012

Right Smack in the Middle - a follower's thoughts

Hello all! The lovely Rennie has provided me with some more of his musings about the thoughts behind being spanked and that longing so many of us have.

Please enjoy!


Quite simply, I love how getting it feels and I love how giving it looks (the extent of my practical experience). I’m talking about that spank right across the middle of some naughty girl’s or boy’s bottom. It’s where I like to think my mother would’ve smacked me just to get my attention and stop me in my mischief-making tracks. “Owww!”
After all, it’s such a natural target. Especially in its natural state of utter and unedited bareness. The smack across the crack (or, if you’re squeamish, the gluteal cleft) is all about punctuating the spanking itself as an expression of authority. That immediate, incomparable jolt of electric sting says in no uncertain terms that the backside in question is the personal property of its punisher. The aforementioned miscreant is nothing but its caretaker, with any complaints to be directed to Mother Nature.
If we concern ourselves with the lower regions of Middlebum (as I wickedly insist we do), one can’t help noticing the warnings of High Voltage. Getting spanked down there puts Naughtiness, at least for the squirming and squealing time being, on the highest available shelf. We’d never wish to get rid of it entirely, for heaven’s sake, but spanks of the sort we see that bottomly buxom schoolgirl receiving do tend to take the shine off being bad.
Or so the story goes. In my case, with the sting of a spanking being a narcotic and me (or, if you’re a grammarian, I) an incorrigible junkie forever wanting my pants pulled down and my bare bum paddled (strapped would be nice) seven shades of red, getting spanked where my naughtiness lives is Paradise. A very warm, hard statement of fact.
A spank right across the middle of the bottom, when I’m looking at it, is spanking’s perfect pitch, its epic poem, its masterpiece. It’s as close as I expect I’ll ever get to understanding exactly what convergence of circumstance and inspiration resulted in the very first over-the-knee warming of a barenaked bum. I can’t help thinking I was there in spirit. The rest, as they say, is history.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

'The Bad Day' - Guest Fiction by Esskay

I am pleased and proud to present another story from the fertile mind and pen of Esskay. There are two illustrations at the end that Esskay picked out and we both feel they capture the spirit and underline the story perfectly.
      The alarm had been set for 6:30, but Tom Harper awoke earlier and started to clear his mind. He soon remembered the events of the night before and shuddered to himself as he did. This is going to be a bad day, he said to himself.

      He rolled over on his right side and looked at his still-sleeping wife. He loved Gwen and was happy and proud to be married to her, but she was a headstrong woman who was often quite demanding, and she had set some difficult standards for him to reach. She punished him on occasions when she felt he had let her down, and this was going to be one of those times. She had told him last night that he had earned a spanking, but it was too late that night to properly take care of him, and his punishment would be delayed a day. Tom knew from past experience that when Gwen promised him a spanking, she was not going to change her mind.
      This was the second marriage for him, the first for her. Tom had married his college sweetheart Amy as soon as they graduated, and in hindsight, he was able to understand he was too immature to get married that young. They had two children together, a girl now in college, and a boy now a senior in high school, but constant bickering broke up the marriage after eight years. It took a while, but Tom eventually came to accept that most of the problems were of his own making.

      He had a lot of regrets about those years, not just for the marriage itself, but also for his actions after the breakup. For the first few years after he left, he spent very little time with daughter Jessica and son Jared, largely because he wanted to see as little of Amy as possible. As the kids got older he had made more of an effort to see them -- but that meant seeing Amy more frequently. When he did see her, their conversations usually were civil, but he never felt comfortable when around her.

      He had a moderately successful business as one of the local agents of a major national insurance company, but Gwen was the more successful one of the two. She was known as one of the best real estate agents in suburban Baltimore County, and was co-owner of her office. She and Tom had met when she was his agent as he bought a small house a couple of years after the divorce.

      A former athlete at the University of Maryland, Gwen was dynamic and driven, and when those traits were combined with a still trim, tall, athletic figure, she was a very imposing woman. As Tom was still required to pay some alimony and child support from his first marriage, most of the luxuries they enjoyed were a result of Gwen’s income, not his. She never mentioned it as such, but Tom was very aware of it and that situation helped contribute to a clear distinction in the marriage -- Gwen was the dominant partner, and they both knew it.

      Tom had asked her out for the first time right after he had closed on the house he had bought, and Gwen, in her mid-thirties at that point, accepted, as she had grown to like him during the homebuying process. She had previously become comfortable with the notion she might never get married, but as she and Tom continued to grow their relationship, she did see him as a possible husband. She met - -and liked -- his children (and also got along quite well with Amy when she met the ex-wife), and, although she did see flaws in Tom, she was able to picture a possible marriage -- on her terms, of course.

      Although it was clear from the very beginning that Gwen was the dominant influence in the relationship, the concept of her punishing Tom for misdeeds did not become part of the relationship for almost a year. She had been frustrated from time to time about his inattention to some tendencies that bothered her and she was quite vocal in her criticism, but she never had threatened him in any way. The incident that changed everything happened on a Saturday while she was out with a customer for most of the day. Tom had promised to come to her home that day and fix her riding lawn mover which had stopped running. However he had forgotten his promise and ended up joining a friend who needed a last-minute golf partner. When Gwen got home and saw Tom had not been there, she was livid, especially since she had initially wanted to get a professional repairman to look at it and Tom had told her not to since he could do it himself.

      She was very energized that evening as she told him how unhappy she was about it. At one point she said, “Honestly, some times you act like an irresponsible little child who deserves a spanking!”

      When she said it, she truly had no thought of actually spanking him. Tom, however, who knew she was quite angry, took it differently and heard it as a serious statement of what she intended to do. He knew there were some marriages and relationships in which one partner disciplined the other, and he had long ago accepted that Gwen was “the boss” in their relationship, so it did not shock him when he thought she was saying she was going to spank him.

     “I guess you’re right,” he told her. “I’m sorry. I suppose I do deserve a spanking.”

      Gwen was completely surprised when she heard him agree to be spanked, but it was typical of her to be able to quickly take charge of an evolving situation and surprising development. She had never spanked anyone in her life, and hadn’t been spanked herself for more than twenty-five years, but she had no doubt she could deliver an effective punishment to a deserving man. She had a hairbrush in her bedroom that she used daily on her hair, and it had a hard wooden back. “Wait here,” she told Tom as she went to get the brush. Tom obediently complied.

      She emerged from the bedroom in just a few seconds holding the brush, and Tom sat up straight. He had seen the brush before when Gwen had stroked her hair in the bedroom, but he had never expected it would be used for an alternate purpose on his backside. He felt incapable of resisting Gwen -- he had never imagined that she would spank him for bad behavior, but now that he thought she had told him she was going to spank him, he was not at all surprised. And, he told himself, it was my fault. I deserve this.

      For someone who had never given a spanking before, Gwen was able to improvise and still keep a strong appearance of authority. She ordered him to come to the couch where she was sitting, then unfastened his belt and pushed his trousers down as far as she could. Next came his undershorts, and she pushed them down onto the pants. She tapped her right leg with the brush and Tom quietly bent down so she could guide him into spanking position.

      She started with the brush immediately, and it hurt from the first spank on. Tom tried to keep silent, but couldn’t, he started with the usual spankee phrases such as “I’m sorry, it hurts, please no more, I’ll be good“, and the like. Gwen stayed silent until near the end as Tom was gasping and sobbing -- then she added commentary such as “You’re a bad little boy” and “You’ve deserved this for a long time.” Once his sobbing had graduated to heaving shoulders and a steady flow of tears, she brought the punishment to an end.

      After Gwen eased him off of her lap, he put his head on one of the couch cushions as his sobbing subsided. Gwen sat and watched. She was satisfied that she had done an acceptable job considering this was the first time she had spanked someone, but she also made some mental notes about things she would do differently if she was to spank him again in the future.

      Even after having been spanked, Tom hoped to spend the night with Gwen, as the couple did on most Saturday nights. But she told him to go home, telling him he needed to think about what he wanted out of his life. She also told him he could expect similar punishments in the future if his behavior warranted it.

      Once home, he did do a lot of thinking. It wasn’t the fact that she had applied so much pain to his still-throbbing butt that bothered him; it was that he felt he had embarrassed himself with his tears. But, he reasoned, he had previously conceded in many ways that he was the secondary partner in the relationship. Did it really matter that now they had added Gwen’s ability to make him cry to what had already been established? Probably not.

      Still tossing and turning in bed, he realized that it had taken him many years after breaking up with Amy to find another woman he honestly loved, and she was truly exceptional in many ways. Being with Gwen was worth a lot of pain and embarrassment. He looked at the clock. It was one o’clock. He knew she would be sleeping but he called her anyway. “I love you,” he told her when she answered. She laughed. Then she asked if he wanted to come back over to her house to spend the rest of the night. He did.

     Six months later, after two more spankings, Tom proposed. Gwen told him she would accept, but warned him he might want to re-think the proposal. “If we lived together 24/7, I fear you’re likely to end up the most-spanked man in the state of Maryland,” she told him.

      Tom didn’t know how often other men were spanked by their wives, or even if there were other men who were spanked, but it really didn’t matter at this point. He wanted to be with the woman he loved, and if the price of that was a trip across her knee every once in a while, he was willing to pay the price.

      They were married a few months later with son Jared as his best man and daughter Jessica as one of Gwen’s bridesmaids. Gwen had even suggested that it would be a nice gesture to invite Amy to the wedding. He wasn’t happy with that idea, but he knew that when Gwen made “suggestions,” it was wise to adopt them, so Amy was there.

      At first, the spankings he earned were quite frequent; he probably averaged about one a month for the first year of the marriage. Gwen had refined her spanking habits, adding embellishments like naked corner time before and after the spanking, and she had become quite adept at scolding him while the brush was in motion. 

Spankings had become an experience much to be feared by Tom, but he never once considered leaving. It was more than love -- he had grown to almost idolize the woman he was living with. And he knew there was a way to avoid the dreaded hairbrush -- behave yourself! He did that as best he could and saw the frequency of his punishments decline. As he saw it, his wife simply demanded excellence from him, every day, all day. He tried hard to fulfill her wishes, and he accepted the fact that when he disappointed her, he would be punished.

      The marriage also helped him in other ways. His business was growing, partially because of referrals from Gwen and other real estate agents as people relocated to the area and needed insurance. And his relations with his children improved: with a woman in his life, Amy encouraged the kids to spend more time with their father and he and Gwen did spend a lot of time with them.

      With no children of her own, Gwen greatly enjoyed the time with Jessica and Jared, often taking them shopping and buying gifts for them for no particular reason. Jared was on his high school lacrosse team and Gwen attended those games as if he was her own son. She also went to parties and other events involving Tom’s kids, always having very cordial relations with Amy. At some games, Gwen sat in the middle with Amy on one side of her and Tom on the other. And for Jessica’s freshman year Parents’ Weekend at Penn State, Gwen “suggested” to Tom that they invite Amy to ride to the school with them.

      Tom was a bit uncomfortable about the relationship between his current wife and his ex-wife; he still would have preferred to see his ex as little as possible. There was still an underlying tension when they saw each other, and while their meetings could have deteriorated into unpleasant situations, having Gwen around as a “referee” of sorts usually kept the conversations at least mostly friendly.

      Still, with so many positive things going on in his life, Tom felt himself a lucky man -- and he had to give most of the credit to his demanding wife.
      He looked at the clock; it was now 6:10AM. He quietly got out of bed and headed for the bathroom to take an early shower before Gwen woke up. He emerged and was half-dressed before 6:30, and he turned off the alarm and woke Gwen gently rather than have the alarm go off. He had no illusions that doing anything loving now would help later today when it would be time for his spanking, but he wanted her to at least start her day in a more-pleasant manner than hearing an alarm go off.

      They kissed, then she went into the bathroom for her shower. He headed for the kitchen to start the coffee, and put on the television to watch the early local news on Channel 13. As they left for work, she reminded him to make sure he was home on time tonight since he was going to be punished.

      As he drove to work, his mind replayed the events of the night before that got him into trouble. Jared was graduating soon, and he and Amy had set up a meeting to discuss plans for a graduation party for him. Gwen wasn’t supposed to be with them as she was to be showing houses to a young couple, but they had cancelled, so at the last minute Gwen had decided to go along with Tom. As it turned out, Tom and Amy had some very different ideas about Jared’s party, and Tom lost his temper and said some inappropriate things. Gwen was able to mediate the dispute -- mostly in the direction that Amy had preferred -- but the evening had been decidedly unpleasant.

     When Gwen and Tom reached the parking lot, she said to him, “Give me the keys, I’m going to drive.” Tom immediately knew he was in trouble -- she was going to tell him something in the car that he didn’t want to hear.
      And that was exactly what she did. “You were very, very rude to Amy in there,” she said as she pulled into traffic. “You embarrassed me. I would take you home and give you a good spanking right now, but it’s late and I’m tired. You will, however, get a very thorough spanking tomorrow night after dinner.”

      Tom sighed, he knew it would do absolutely no good to disagree. “Yes, Gwen,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

      As the day passed, Tom kept looking at the clock, estimating how many hours remained before he would first feel the brush on his butt. It seemed the clock moved much too quickly this day, and at 5:30 on the dot, he locked the office door and headed home.

      Gwen was already preparing dinner when he got home, and they soon sat down to eat. Although he knew it would not deter Gwen from carrying out her promised punishment, he said to her, “I’m sorry about last night.”

      “You don’t owe me an apology, you owe it to Amy,” she said. “We’ll deal with that after dinner.”

      Tom expected his punishment to start immediately after dinner ended, but instead Gwen went into the family room and put on the news. He was a bit confused, but said nothing and joined her in front of the TV. After a few minutes, the doorbell rang. Tom looked at Gwen in surprise, but she acted as if she had been expecting it. “Better go answer the door,” she said.

      He opened the door and his jaw dropped in surprise. He just stood there, not really knowing what to do.

      “Well, can I come in?,” Amy asked, suppressing a smile.

     He stepped aside and she entered. Gwen had moved into the front hall to welcome her, and she led them back into the family room.

      “Tom incorrectly apologized to me for his behavior last night,” Gwen said to Amy. “I told him he owes it to you instead.”

      Tom took his cue and immediately said, “I’m sorry, Amy. I was wrong last night. I’m really sorry.”

      Amy was still smiling as if she knew something that he didn’t know. Gwen spoke next. “Tom, I’m sure you mean it, but it doesn’t erase your bad behavior. You have a punishment coming and I invited Amy here so she can see how I punish you when you are a bad boy.”

      Tom was mortified. A bad day had just become much, much worse. Getting spanked was bad enough --having your ex-wife watch it was going to be incredibly embarrassing. His first thought was that he did not want Amy to see him cry, but he was afraid he would break down as he often did when Gwen spanked him.

      “Go to the bedroom and get ready,” Gwen ordered, and Tom silently walked towards the room. He undressed and moved into the corner he was supposed to stand in while waiting for Gwen. After about ten minutes there he heard the two women enter the room. He knew Gwen would move a straight-back chair to the foot of the bed to sit in, and then he heard her dresser drawer open -- that was where she kept the hairbrush.

      “Let’s go,” Gwen said, and Tom turned to walk over to her. He moved into position over her lap and as he lifted his head he was looking directly at Amy who was standing against Gwen’s dresser with a perfect view of what was about to happen. Amy was smiling, which upset Tom a bit, but he knew that wasn’t his biggest problem at the moment.

      Gwen started in with the brush and immediately started to scold him, but her words did not register. He was much more concerned with trying to keep his emotions in check. He did not want to cry, and he was doing all he could to keep from doing so. Gwen had seen him cry before, but Amy never had, and he did not want that to change. He also was doing his best to keep from pleading for her to stop and while he could not control the “ows” and “ouches,” he managed not to say anything more.

      He had lost count, but Gwen stopped spanking him sooner than he had expected, and he had managed to keep from crying. She released her hold on him, and he eased himself up. He was surprised, but for an instant considered himself lucky -- the spanking was over, he had made it!

      Then the day got worse yet again.

      “I think I have him warmed up nicely for you,” Gwen said to Amy, as she held out the hairbrush to the other woman.

      “No!” Tom screamed.

      Gwen put her hands on her hips and glared at him with a look that sent a chill down his spine. It was non-verbal communication, but it was as clear as if she had screamed it from the top of a mountain. “Don’t you DARE to resist me during a punishment,” the look said and Tom immediately tried to rescind his objection. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly with a voice that sounded like tears were near.

      Brush in hand, Amy took over the chair as Gwen moved aside. Getting over her knee was the last place in the world that Tom wanted to be, but he knew he had no choice and he slowly moved into position. He had already lost his battle to keep from crying -- he tried to say “I’m sorry, Amy,” but his voice was so weak he couldn’t actually verbalize it.

      “I should have done this twenty years ago,” Amy announced as she started to land the brush on Tom’s already-red posterior. She landed about fifty spanks as Tom’s crying rose to a level that Gwen had never heard before -- it wasn’t just the pain, the embarrassment of being spanked by his ex-wife was just simply overwhelming.

      When Amy had finished and let Tom up, Gwen told him to get into the corner. The two women left the room after a couple of minutes, and as soon as he knew they were gone, a sobbing Tom reached back to try to rub some of the pain away.

      Leaving him alone was what Gwen normally did after a spanking; Tom knew he could stay by himself as long as he wished or could emerge from the bedroom when he felt ready. He left the corner shortly after the women departed the room and moved to the bed where he laid face-down on his side of the bed.

      His initial emotion as he was on the bed was anger -- Gwen should not have orchestrated a scenario where Amy got to spank him. But as he thought some more about it, the anger started to dissipate. Amy’s words kept coming back to him -- ”I should have done this twenty years ago.” What if she had? He had no doubt at all that he was a better man now because Gwen had started to spank him. How different might things have been if Amy had been that way twenty years ago? Maybe if she had, Jessica and Jared might have had the benefits of growing up in a 2-parent home, and he might have had the pleasure of knowing them better as youngsters. Yes, he had a good life now with a great woman, but how would things have worked out if Amy had treated him then the way Gwen treats him now?

      His anger gone, he was soon ready to go out and re-join the women. They had just seen him naked, but still he felt he needed to put something on. He slipped back on his jockey shorts, but even the soft cotton stung a bit as it touched his butt. He went to his dresser and picked out a loose-fitting bathing suit, and put it on.

      The two women were in the dinette having coffee and cake when he emerged. The sight of a still red-faced man wearing a bathing suit was actually quite humorous and when they saw him, Amy tried to hold back a smile, while Gwen actually laughed. Tom realized he must have been quite a sight, and he managed a small laugh too.

      “Sit down if you can,” Gwen said in a pleasant manner and she rose to get him a cup of coffee, while Tom eased himself onto a chair as gently as he possibly could. He nodded when Gwen asked if he would also like some cake, and she brought it to him.

      “Amy, I’m really sorry,” he said. “Not just for last night. I’m sorry for all of it. Maybe you were right in there --maybe you should have spanked me twenty years ago.”

      “It’s all right,” she said. “It turned out OK. We have two terrific kids who are growing up just fine, that’s the most important thing. And you have a wife who is just a fantastic person.”

      “I know I do, thanks,” he replied.

      And then -- for more than an hour -- the three of them chatted away very amicably. They resolved the remaining issues on Jared’s party, and enjoyed sharing views on everything from politics to shopping at Inner Harbor stores to even the Ravens’ chances of getting to the next Super Bowl. Tom had to stand for a while -- the man in the bathing suit was still feeling the effects of his earlier punishment, but he enjoyed the conversation as much as the women did.

      Finally Amy said it was time for her to go, and Gwen and Tom walked to the door with her. Then, for the first time in many years, Tom and Amy reached out to each other and hugged, holding each other close for about ten seconds. Gwen stood there with a huge smile on her face; neither Amy nor Tom noticed Gwen wiping a tear from her eyes. Then she and Amy hugged, and the ex-wife left.

      An hour later, Gwen and Tom were ready to retire for the night and they cuddled together in bed.

      “I need to thank you,” Tom said to her. “When I woke up this morning, the first thing that came to my mind was that today was going to be a bad day. Well, it certainly wasn’t great for a while, but I have to admit, it turned out to be a not-bad day.”

      “You’re welcome, honey,” Gwen said to him. “I’m glad.“ She moved even closer to him, then picked her head up to kiss him.

      And then it actually became a good day for Tom.

      A very good day.

Gwen disciplines Tom in front of his ex-wife; Amy.

Amy puts the lesson learned from Gwen into practice.

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Super Strict Nanny - Bared Affair

I'm not sure if anyone can remember this clearly, but a few years ago a popular TV concept was having 'nannies' or childcare professionals go to a home with misbehaving children and sort things out with a combination of common sense and childcare techniques. The two biggest shows were Nanny 911 and Super Nanny. This is a Bared Affair article which examines the concept from it's own rather unique viewpoint, with a suitable form of show.

A behind-the-scenes look at a new lifestyle show with the aim of helping harassed mothers of spirited teen girls

From CP Concepts, the same people who brought you last year's smash reality show 'School Days,' comes the new show 'Super Strict Nanny.' Inspired and encouraged by the success of such shows as 'Nanny 911' and 'Super Nanny' and emboldened by the wonderful reception and ratings for its own show 'School Days', CP Concepts realized that there was a market for this program. 'Super Strict Nanny' gives some much needed assistance in the discipline department to mothers who were at the end of their wits with their own bold adolescent girls.

The show's star is Julia Fraser, a no-nonsense real life British nanny of many years' experience, mostly in dealing with rebellious young ladies. She certainly looks the part: a tall, imposing, buxom woman with her thick chestnut hair drawn severely back from her face and dressed in sensible shiny leather pumps, nylon stockings, an austere black dress that ends well below her knees. Ms Fraser favours a rectangular pair of thick rimmed glasses which make her look sterner. With her plump lips pursed disapprovingly and a wagging finger, she is the very picture of the stern British governess.

The star of 'Super Strict Nanny' Julia Fraser in a typically stern pose in a publicity shot for the show.

One of the first episodes of 'Super Strict Nanny' dealt with the case of Heather Barrington, a single mother in her mid-40s with two teens, Wendy, 19, and Susie, 16. The girls had been ruling the roost and paying very little attention to their mother, and in desperation Mrs Barrington put the call through to Ms Fraser.

Heather Barrington with younger daughter; Wendy, before the girl required the services of the 'Super Strict Nanny'

We spoke to the harried parent, a somewhat nervous but well meaning woman, some time after the episode had been filmed.

"I had to admit," Mrs Barrington confessed, "I was at my wits' end with Wendy and Susie. Wendy was going out all hours and failing all her university classes, and I didn't like the company she kept. Susie had become a Goth girl and was continually whining about not being allowed to get her lip pierced. She spent most of her time in her room on a goth teen chat site."

That sort of behaviour has been termed by Ms Fraser as, "unasseptible," a word which she charmingly mispronounces. Many Bared Affair readers would no doubt reward Mrs Barrington's two girls with an old fashioned spanking which would soon see them smarten up their ideas.

"I had thought of spanking the girls," Mrs Barrington continued, "but at 19 and 16 I believed them too old for such a childish punishment to have any effect. Julia wasted no time in showing me that what made it so effective was that it was both childish and humiliating. Susie got her bottom smacked and was made to clean up her room for the first time in months. Wendy got her spanking when she arrived home late that night. Julia set some rules and observed from afar."

Returning to (Bad) Form

How did things go once the new nanny was out of sight?

Mrs Barrington gave a nervous laugh and admitted that they hadn't gone well. "I just couldn't bear to be the 'bad Mum'. The girls went back to form. Ms Fraser returned and two sound spankings afterwards I had two angels. Although it did not take them long to overstep the boundaries and this time I was the one that had to spank them. I found it empowered me, the girls responded well û and as time has gone on we've all become more comfortable with the new methods shown us by Julia. Whilst I do still spank, it's not as frequent as at first and the girls know exactly what they can and can't do. We have a happier household all around now that there are consequences for behaviour."

It was clear that the mother was satisfied, but would her offspring, the recipients of those heated posteriors, feel the same way?

"I couldn't believe it the first time Nanny Julia spanked me!" Wendy, a tall, perky brunette exclaimed. "I was even more shocked when Mum did it! I'm 19 and in college! But in a funny way I knew I needed it, and I was almost glad when Mum put her foot down and told me no. Then she smacked my bum when I argued about some stupid thing. If she hadn't I would have missed a deadline for an assignment and may have failed the entire year. I don't like getting a sore bottom, but I do enjoy not having to put on an act all the time. I think Nanny Julia did a really good thing here."

Susie, a shorter, thinner version of her sister, rolled her brown eyes and mimicked her older sibling. "'I think Nanny Julia did a really good thing here,'" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You are such a suckup, Wendy! I hate, hate, hate, the spankings, OK? I really do! But yeah, I do like that I don't have to do the Goth thing any more. One, it's kind of out now. I was sick of wearing black all the time. And two, honestly. it's kinda boring really. I didn't like it when Nanny Julia spanked me. It hurt and she used this big hairbrush, but I'm glad she showed Mum how to do it. This sounds really weird, but I feel like Mummy really loves me when she does spank me. She always gives me a cuddle afterwards, which is nice," Susie finished with a becoming smile.

From CF Shots. Heather deals with one of her daughters after Julia's visit.

Opinions about Ms Fraser's old fashioned methods vary, even on her own production staff. One of her most strident insider critics is outspoken production intern, Denise Oldman, 22. "That a spanking and a hug fixes everything is such a crock of BS," the blonde girl asserted. "They never show you the families we film where it doesn't work. What Julia does to these kids is quite frankly barbaric. We're in the twenty-first century here, not the 1950s."

It certainly seemed an odd opinion for someone working on such a show to hold. It was explained by another production assistant who did not want to be named that only days before our visit to the set, Ms Fraser had found it necessary to turn Miss Oldman over her knee.

From Premium Spanking. Intern Denise Oldman after a 'discussion' with Julia Fraser regarding her opinions about the show's methods and message.

Never having been spanked before in her life, the liberally raised intern was finding the experience rather difficult to deal with. Ms Fraser appeared on set not long after her production intern had rashly spoken her mind. Miss Oldman was taken to Ms Fraser's caravan for a 'discussion' about dealing with the media. It has to be admitted that Nanny Julia has a rather unique way of summoning girls to her caravan û Miss Oldman was dragged by her earlobe. She appeared 30 minutes later, rubbing her bottom, and retracted her earlier statement.

Julia Fraser herself was regrettably too busy to speak to us on this occasion, but we think the testimony of her previous case and her employees speak for themselves, and vouch that some very entertaining viewing will be headed your way this season.

Originally published in Bared Affair, Issue 4.02

Monday, 13 February 2012

Happy Valentine's Day!

Today is a wonderful day on the calendar, I hope you are all spending it with a loved one and indulging each other. I wanted to post this image from Spanked Call Girls in honour of the day, lots of red and they're doing something that is near and dear to all of us.

Aunty Andrea

Friday, 10 February 2012

'Public Transport'

This is a sweet little story with a twist in the tale/tail.

From Clare Fonda Pass. Justine soothes her soundly spanked tush after Maria's disciplined it.

Hairbrushes can be evil where a tender naughty bottom is concerned.

From Sarah Gregory Spanking. Maria and Justine post spanking.

Maria stepped off the escalator, looked at the crowds waiting for the next train and frowned. She knew the schedules, and if the trains were on time then there should not be this many passengers waiting. It appeared as if the previous one had been cancelled. She looked at the board and then waited for an announcement. There it was! Due to a vandalized train the previous one had been cancelled.

"I knew it!" Maria hissed to herself.

Vandalism was the scourge of the public transport system. Maria worked as an inspector for the company and the very reason that her feet were sore, and she wanted to relax and sit down on the way home was because she had spent a large part of the afternoon inspecting vandalized vehicles that she would have to spend most of the following day doing paperwork for. Most of the offenders were bored teenage delinquents, who were the offspring of parents who either did not know or simply did not care where their children were, or what they were doing. On the rare occasions they were caught they were let off with light sentences due to their age. If Maria had the responsibility of sentencing them she'd make them fix the damage they had caused and maybe face the wrath of some inconvenienced passengers as well. The seat she had hoped for was probably now a fond hope and fat chance.

The train rolled up to the platform and drew to a halt. Maria crowded on with everyone else and looked around for an empty seat. She was just about to give up when she saw one that was not occupied. What a stroke of luck! Two older gentlemen in business suits made way for her to allow her a path to the seat. Maria arrived there and stared down at a pair of booted feet that were crossed on top of the otherwise empty seat. Her dark brown eyes followed the boots, the slender legs clad in rainbow coloured leggings until they disappeared under a short dark skirt and eventually settled on a small, slim girl with pale blonde hair that had purple and blue streaks through it. The girl could have been aged anywhere from late teens to mid twenties. Maria put her somewhere in the middle of the age range. She was oblivious to the stares and mutters of fellow commuters. Her eyes were closed, her teeth were busy with a wad of gum and earphones were jammed securely in her ears. It was too much for Maria. It was not an often enforced rule, but placing feet on seats was prohibited, and the sheer insensitivity of the girl incensed her. Maria reached down, yanked an earphone out of the younger woman's ear and said loudly, "Excuse me!"

Shocked blue eyes regarded her, and then the angry retort came.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Maria did not respond to the profanity, although there were raised eyebrows and a few shocked gasps from other commuters. Maria's face took on a stern expression and she pointed at the girl's feet propped up on a seat. With an exasperated exhalation of breath the younger woman swung her feet down, and glared up at Maria "Happy now?"

"Not entirely, no," Maria replied in a level voice. "You've committed two offences against the public transport corporation that manages this line."

"What?" the girl said aggressively.

Maria's eyes flashed and she indicated the list of rules above most seats. They clearly indicated that passengers could be fined for placing their feet on the seats or using offensive language.

The girl laughed, "No one takes those seriously."

"I do, young lady." Maria told her, and produced her identification from the inside pocket of her jacket.

Maria was not a member of the transit police, but she did have the authority to issue a notice and fine someone for breaking rules or fare evading. Ordinarily she did not use the authority, but the blonde girl had well and truly crossed a line with her behaviour, and after the day Maria had endured she had picked the wrong person to cross.

The expression on the blonde's face changed from smugly defiant to concerned. "The maximum fine for both offences is a thousand dollars combined." Maria informed the girl, to murmured approval from most of the commuters in the carriage.

"A thousand bucks!" the girl wailed. "I don't have a thousand dollars!" 

"Maybe you should have considered that before you decided to abuse me." Maria said. "Let's see your ticket and I'll sort this out."

There was a pause where Maria's brown eyes locked with the girl's blue ones, and then the girl whispered, "I don't have one."

"What was that?" Maria asked, her tone dangerously low.

"I don't have a ticket," the now thoroughly miserable blonde girl whimpered.

There were shocked and scandalized expressions from many of the business suited travelers and one gentleman gave Maria his business card in case she required a witness, and two teenage boys across the carriage sniggered to see someone in trouble. Maria shot them a glare, but decided against taking further action.

"Well that rather changes everything, young lady. Fare evasion is a criminal act."

"No!" the girl blurted out, near tears. "It can't be!"

"It is," Maria continued mercilessly. "It's theft. I think we'd best get off at the next stop to sort this out."

As Maria spoke the train slowed and pulled smoothly into a suburban station.

"Come on!" Maria ordered brusquely, tugging at the younger lady's slender upper arm.

Miserably the girl got to her feet, and followed Maria out of the carriage onto the stations concrete surface. The two ladies sat on an iron bench and watched the train disappear into the distance. The look on the younger woman's face said that she would have much rather still been on the train, the approaching evening and the chilly overcast conditions were not helping her mood. She looked angrily at the older lady, and determined to make this difficult for her.

Maria took a spiral notebook, with a pen tucked into the spine, out of her handbag and asked "Name?"

The blonde girl looked at Maria, and drawled, "Betty Rubble."

Maria's lips pursed, and her brown eyes narrowed. "This is not a joke, young lady. You're facing serious charges. I hope you have ID that proves your name. Let's see a licence."

"This is harassment!" the girl whined. "You can't do this to me."

"Would you prefer we concluded this at the local police station? It's right next to the train stop. ID."

With an expression of annoyance the girl took her purse out of her bag, snapped it open and withdrew a licence which she handed over. Maria scanned the card, and murmured, "Justine Nicholson," before noting it down in her book.

"Can't we do something else?" Justine pleaded as she put her licence back into her purse. "I don't have a thousand dollars."

"That was just for the feet on the seats and telling me to fuck off ..."

"I asked what the fuck your problem was." Justine retorted before she could bite the comment off, she quickly shut her mouth and drew back into her seat as Maria unleashed a withering glare on her.

"As I was saying the fine was for the feet and the abuse, knowingly travelling without a valid ticket is a criminal offence, it'll have to go to court."

"What?" Justine blurted out, tears spilling from her blue eyes. "I'll lose my job if I get a conviction."

"You should have thought of that before deciding to ride the train for free." Maria replied unsympathetically.

"Please," Justine begged, "isn't there something you can do that doesn't involve money and a judge?"

Maria huffed breath out through pursed lips and said, "If you were my daughter I'd give you a good hiding."

"A hiding." Justine echoed.

"Yes, a smacked bottom." Maria clarified, her brown eyes flashing.

Justine's eyes widened, and she licked her lips quickly. "Could you do that?" she whispered.

"What?" Maria asked, her head turning quickly to look at the younger woman, and her own eyes slightly shocked.

"Smack me." Justine said in a small voice, dropping her eyes.

Maria ran a hand through her thick, straight dark brown hair. "Do you know exactly what you're saying, Justine?"

"I think so," the girl replied uncertainly, putting a strand of her hair in her mouth and sucking it, "does it mean I don't have to pay a fine or go to court?"

"Stop that!" Maria snapped, jerking the hair out of Justine's mouth and smacking the back of her hand when she automatically attempted to replace it. "This is highly irregular, Justine, but it would save a lot of paperwork." she did not add that the judge would be unlikely to assign anything other than a stern warning to Justine, and that she would have a devil of a time making the fines stick.

"I'll do it!" the girl decided with a positive statement, standing up. "When?"

"No time like the present, miss." Maria replied, taking hold of Justine's slender hand.

Justine allowed the older lady to pull her to her feet, and stumbled down the platform after her. "You mean now?" she said to Maria's back.

"I live near here," Maria said brusquely.

"What's your name?" Justine thought to ask as they exited the station and entered the suburb itself.

"Maria." the businesswoman replied.

It suits her, Justine thought, she looks like a Maria. Despite the fact that she was being made to feel as if she were a five year old being taken shopping with a parent, Justine did not mind following Maria, it gave her chance to examine the other lady. At 5'9" she was tall for a woman, she had wide shoulders, which were accentuated by the shoulders of her jacket, a slender waist, a full curvy bottom and long shapely legs. Her hair was straight and dark brown, it was well looked after and hung to her shoulders. The cut of her clothes also told Justine that this was a woman who cared about what she wore and how she looked when wearing them. Justine had also seen the labels, and Maria's clothing was certainly not cheap. She looked around her surroundings as she followed Maria through the narrow, tree lined streets populated by terrace houses and what used to be workers cottages. Once this had been a working class inner suburb, but now only wealthy upwardly mobile types could afford to live here, and the lower income earners had been pushed to the outer suburbs.

At a neat little cottage Maria stopped, she reached over the low wire fence and unlocked the gate, then stepped inside and tugged Justine's hand gently to lead her up a narrow brick path, bordered on each side by short flowering shrubs, as they were now well into autumn the shrubs had stopped flowering, but they were still green. The path led to a tiled porch. Justine followed the older lady and waited quietly while Maria removed her keys from her handbag and unlocked the door. The two ladies entered into a small entrance hall. Maria flicked on the light, which illuminated the little room and showed that there were folding doors, panelled with patterned smoked glass that led into a cozy sitting room. Maria took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, she motioned Justine into the sitting room, and gestured to the couch. Justine sat carefully on the edge of the couch and looked up at the stern older woman who intended to spank her later.

The room was chilly and Justine shivered. Maria noticed, and apologised "That's part of the problem with these old houses, they're lovely, but it costs a lot to get modern heating installed." she pointed to a fireplace, that had a fire laid and waiting for the flame to be put to it. Maria took a box of matches from the mantelpiece, lit one and dropped it into the pile of kindling. "We'll have it warm and toasty in no time." she assured her young guest.

"Thanks." Justine said absently, her eyes flicking around the room.

"Would you like some tea?" Maria asked the younger woman. "I'm just about to put the kettle on."

"Yes, please." Justine answered.

She continued to sit nervously, watching the flames in the fireplace flicker as she listened to Maria bustle about in the house's small kitchen. The kettle sang, and not long after Maria appeared with two steaming mugs in her hands. She set one in front of Justine, and seated herself in an armchair just across the coffee table from the girl. Justine wrapped her slender hands around the mug, blew on it and sipped delicately.

Maria regarded the girl, before blowing on her own tea to cool it, and sipping.

"So what happens now?" Justine asked.

A smile played across Maria's full, generous lips and she replied with a question of her own.

"Your mother never spanked you, Justine?"

The blonde girl made a face before answering "My Mum was a junk ... addict. I was only little when she died. I was fostered."

Maria nodded in understanding. "When we've finished our tea, I'll get changed and then I'll make your bottom pay for your ticket."

Justine gulped, and her already fair complexion paled even further, she took a quick sip of tea to cover her embarrassment. Justine set her mug down.

"Would you like to go to the toilet, Justine?"

Suddenly the girl became aware that her bladder was very insistent that she empty it, and she nodded.

"Take your mug out to the kitchen and rinse it, then set it on the sink. The bathroom is the second door on the left down the hall."

"Yes, ma'am." Justine replied, doing as she was told.

While she was going about her ablutions in the nicely appointed, very feminine bathroom she heard Maria moving about.

Maria was seated on the couch, she was wearing a long, pleated skirt and a comfortable looking cardigan, laying on the coffee table was a long handled, broad backed, rectangular  wooden hairbrush. Somehow Justine doubted Maria intended to use it to brush hair.

"Come stand by my side Justine." Maria ordered.

Justine did as she was bidden.

"Do you understand that what you did was wrong, young lady?" Maria asked, her brown eyes serious.

"Yes, Maria."

"I think for the duration of the punishment, Justine, you had better call me ma'am or Miss Maria."

"Can I call you Aunty?"

Maria's eyes looked amused, "If it makes you feel more comfortable, it makes me feel old, but I don't mind."

"Most of my foster Mums were Aunty." Justine explained, her cheeks flaming.

"Aunty Maria it is, then." the older lady agreed.

"What do we do now?" Justine asked.

"Well, first we need to get you out of those leggings, get your skirt off and panties down." Maria said very matter of factly.

"What?" Justine blurted, eyes wide.

"I need to bare your bottom, Justine. And what happened to Aunty Maria?"

"Why do you need to bare my bum, Aunty Maria?" Justine asked, blushing again.

"To spank you of course, silly." Maria said with a chuckle.

"But, but ..." Justine said, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"The only butt I want is yours bare and over my lap, young lady." Maria said in a stern voice.

"I don't see why my bottom has to be bare, Aunty." Justine tried to protest weakly.

"My mother always said that a spanking wasn't a spanking unless it was administered on the bare bottom. It's also safer. If I can see how red your bottom is getting and feel how hot it is I know that I'm spanking hard enough, but not too hard."

Justine could barely believe she was having this conversation, even worse was that on some level it was turning her on.

"Now that I've explained all that, missy, take off your shoes and I'll deal with the rest."

Taking a deep breath Justine bent and unlaced her boots, she took them off and put them neatly side by side near the couch. "Cost a lot, did they?" Maria asked as she took hold of Justine's slender arm and drew her in close.

"Ummm ... yeah." Justine mumbled.

"I thought so," Maria continued calmly, unzipping the girl's skirt. "You don't take such good care of some cheap knock off." She gave a tug, the skirt slid over Justine's narrow hips and puddled around her ankles. Justine stepped out of it feeling as if she were in a trance. Maria picked up the garment, folded it neatly and placed it on a table next to the couch. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the girl's rainbow leggings and rolled them down over her hips and bottom and down her legs.

"Step out, sweetie." Maria ordered softly. Justine did as ordered, and her tights joined the skirt on the table.

"Now the panties." Maria announced reaching for the brief, filmy underwear.

"Do we have to, Aunty, please?" Justine begged.

"Haven't we already gone through this, Justine?"

"They won't give me any protection," Justine reasoned, "they're really thin and you can see my backside through them and feel if it's hot or not."

"That's not the only reason, darling." Maria explained warmly. "It's also to drive home the feeling that you are a big girl having to be spanked like a little one. I think that will do you good Justine. Now down these panties come!"

There was a gasp from the blonde girl as her underpants were whisked to her ankles. Her hands immediately covered her front. Maria looked up at the girl's face. "Take the hands away please, Justine."

"But you'll see!" the girl wailed.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before, miss."

Blushing Justine moved her hands slowly. In order to make the young woman feel a little less exposed, Maria averted her eyes, and patted her lap. Justine awkwardly lowered herself over it, affording Maria a brief glimpse of tawny curls between her legs as she did so. Maria lifted the girl up a little, positioning her buttocks in the centre of her lap, and pointing them at the ceiling.

"Lift your legs up onto the couch, Justine," Maria ordered. "We want you settled securely on Aunty's lap."

With a whimper Justine raised her legs and nearly toppled off Maria's lap as the panties tangled around her ankles made the movement difficult. Maria's arm around the younger lady's waist kept her where she was. She reached across and removed the undergarments from Justine's ankles.

"There," she said with satisfaction, "you're all free to wave your legs about, and if I'm anywhere near as good as my own dear mother was at this then you are going to do just that in short order, my girl."

Maria gazed down on the alabaster white hemispheres arranged over her lap and marvelled at their whiteness and how soft and yielding they were under her fondling and caressing palm. Justine squirmed a little as Maria's gentle ministrations tickled her buttocks. Justine was a slender girl and she had long oval cheeks, but they were still well covered enough to accept a sound spanking.

Maria rested a hand on one trembling rotundity, then lifted that hand high and brought it down with a sharp crack across the twitching buttock. Justine heard the report of the slap, and then squealed loudly as the sting settled a moment later, by that time Maria had administered another stinging spank on the opposite cheek. Justine squealed again, and Maria began to cover the bottom's entire surface with slow deliberate smacks. The older lady was careful about where she planted each stinging stroke. She ensured that she had slapped every inch of Justine's offered up backside, and created a shimmering pink glow, before she settled into a steady rhythm. As Maria had prophesied, Justine began to wave her legs around and beg for mercy as Maria's stern palm beat a steady glowing tattoo into her writhing bottom. As Maria spanked the girl, and endeavoured to keep her wriggling body in place over the lap, she wondered if she had presented a similar spectacle to her mother all those years ago. Justine was wailing loudly under the onslaught, and Maria was positive that her eyes would be awash with tears trickling down her cheeks, she wriggled and squirmed vigorously, and was becoming difficult to hold in place, her bottom was alight with a rosy glow as it rolled and writhed trying to avoid the hard palm, and her legs were waving about as she kicked, allowing Maria a full view of all her delights.

Maria became aware that the palm of her hand had become a little numb and she could no longer really feel the sting of the spanks, although Justine's yells and movements indicated that they were still hurting. Maria decided that it was time for the brush. She rested the back of her hand on Justine's bottom, and whistled through her teeth, they were simmering.  They felt every bit as hot as they looked and they appeared to be sizzling. Maria reached across Justine to pick up the hairbrush that lay bristle side up on the table. As she did so she could feel a lovely heat emanating from the girl's glowing bottom onto her full breasts through her open cardigan and the thin material of her blouse.

Justine shivered as she felt something prickly on her hot stinging bottom. She heard Maria's voice ask gently, "What does that feel like, Justine?"

"I don't know, Aunty," the girl replied in a trembling voice, she had been hoping it was all over.

"Oh go on try and guess, darling." Maria encouraged, a slight pout in her voice.

"It tickles," Justine tried, "kind of scratchy."

"What do you think tickles and can feel scratchy at the same time?" Maria asked in that same soft voice.

"A hairbrush, Aunty." Justine answered in an almost inaudible voice, and she started to cry again.

"Oh clever girl!" Maria complimented the girl. "But this one isn't going to be used to brush hair, is it, dear?"

"No ma'am," Justine sobbed.

"Tell Aunty what you think it's going to be used for," Maria requested, her voice firming.

"To spank me, Aunty," Justine blubbered.

"Yes, Justine," Maria affirmed, flipping the brush and gliding it's flat cool back across Justine's steaming cheeks, "Aunty's hairbrush is going to spank your naughty little bottom up soundly until you're as hot as a stove back there, young lady."

"Ahhhh, owwww, oh myyyy Goooddd!" Justine wailed as Maria applied the brushes solid, broad back to her burning hindquarters.

The blonde girl had not thought her bottom could get any hotter or sorer, that was until Maria had brought the hairbrush into the punishment. There were no thoughts of modesty as she flung her legs around, and squirmed her backside frantically to try and ease the pain, and avoid the heavy brush. If any object had ever been designed to have two uses it was the hairbrush, particularly the one that Maria was belabouring Justine with at the present moment. There was a volley of particularly searing slaps that made Justine's upper thighs feel as if a hive of bees had stung them all at once. Justine threw her head back and screamed. Tears ran down her cheeks, her nose was streaming, and she could taste the burning tears and snot in the back of her throat. Strings of saliva were spraying from the side of her mouth, and her face was screwed up in agony. If this went on any longer her rear end was going to burst into flames. Justine was not aware when Maria brought the chastisement to an end, she simply lay limply over Maria's lap and bawled.

Maria looked down at the throbbing, glowing red buttocks in her lap, and she could feel the waves of heat shimmering off the superheated globes onto the knuckles of the hand that held the hairbrush loosely. Her mother had always spanked her to this point, when she just cried and lay unresisting over the knee, no longer yelling or screaming, no legs flailing about, no trying to get away from the implement, she had been spanked until she broke and a little beyond that, this was where Justine was now. Maria set the brush down, and said in a firm, but gentle voice, "Justine, your spanking is over, sweetheart. You can get up from Aunty's lap now."

Justine did not respond immediately, but after getting her breathing under control, she levered herself awkwardly and carefully up from Maria's skirted lap, and onto her feet. Before Maria could speak, Justine sighed loudly, and then her hands flew to her abused rump and she began to hop around the room, furiously rubbing her crimson derriere in a vain effort to soothe and cool it down. Maria sat back and a smile spread across her face at the girl's antics. She had done the hot bottom boogie many times growing up, she wondered if she looked as silly as Justine did at this point.

"Stop that silly carry on, Justine and come to Aunty, please young lady." It was obviously an effort for Justine to remove her hands from her roasting situpon and to stop dancing and go to the older lady seated on the couch, but she did as she was told. This told Maria that if nothing else she had gotten the message that she was to be obeyed across to the younger woman. Justine stood demurely in front of Maria, hands clasped in front of her, head down, occasionally hiccuping and sniffling.

"How do you feel, Justine?"

"Sore," Justine mumbled.

Maria chuckled richly, "That was the intention, darling. Look at me, please." Justine sniffed, and raised her head.

"You do look a picture." Maria commented, seeing the tears running down the girl's face, her cheeks and chin covered with a mixture of snot, saliva and tears, strands of blonde and dyed hair sticking to her face. Maria reached out and took a tissue from a box nearby. "Kneel down, sweetheart." she instructed.

Justine gave the older lady a quizzical look.

"Don't question me, young lady," Maria said, that commanding tone creeping back in her voice, "just do as you are told."

Justine folded to her knees in front of Maria, wincing as her sore, swollen buttocks made contact with her calves, and immediately rose up so her knees were taking most of her weight.

Maria's face broke into a pleased smile, and she used the tissue to clean Justine's face. Justine could not help but heave a huge sigh of relief as she felt the woman clean her up. She had wondered what fresh pain and humiliation she was in for when she had been asked to kneel. Although the spanking had been extremely painful and embarrassing she still felt it was a better outcome than the enormous fine and possible criminal conviction that Maria had mentioned earlier. Her bottom would feel better a lot sooner than she could earn back that money and criminal convictions never went away and made it very hard for girls like her to get employment.

"That's better!" Maria exclaimed with a smile, as she examined the girl's face. "Now let's get you up and into a corner, so you can reflect on the evening's events."

Corner? Justine thought. Maria was going to stand her bare bottomed in a corner like a little kid. Could this night get any more humiliating? Numbly Justine allowed herself to be drawn to her feet, and led meekly to a corner of the room, where she was told to stand and face the wall.

Staring at the wall, feeling her still hot bottom throb and pulsate with the residual pain of the soundly administered spanking Justine reflected on what she had done, the way she had acted and how stupid she had been. It was wrong to travel without a valid ticket, it was also wrong to react so angrily to someone when they were only making a reasonable request. Although her backside hurt abominably, and she had cried and yelled until her eyes stung and her throat was raw, Justine felt strangely good about the chastisement. She was somehow purged and cleansed, she no longer felt guilty or stressed out, and she had warm feelings towards Maria for taking the time and effort to correct her and treating her the way she should have been dealt with growing up and taking the place of a mother correcting an errant child. God! Her bottom was sore and hot, if she could just rub it a little to soothe it. Her hands crept to her glutes, and she began to gently massage the abused cheeks, sighing with pleasure as her hands eased the burn. So rapt up in the feelings her fingers were sending through her body Justine was unaware that Maria had left and reentered the room. That was until her wrists were taken firm hold of, her hands were removed from her inflamed rear, and Maria's hard hand descended on her backside, the authoritative voice scolding with each stinging slap.

"You are not permitted to rub, young lady! I did not go to all the trouble and time to heat up your naughty little bottom only to have you rub it away. Put your hands on your head and stand there, staring at the wall until I give you permission to move." Fresh tears trickling down her cheeks, Justine did as she was told.

"Justine," Maria's voice sounded after what seemed like an eternity, but had in reality been only ten minutes, "remove your hands and turn around, do not rub, but come to me, please."

With a sigh Justine unlaced her hands from atop her sweat sodden blonde locks, and put them by her side. Maria was siting back on the couch, looking relaxed, a half full glass of red wine was on the coffee table. Justine didn't see if but there was also a bowl of cool water, some cloths and hand towels and a bottle of lotion.

"Back over my lap, darling." Maria invited the girl.

"Back over, ma'am?" Justine said disbelievingly. Not more spanking, surely. A raised eyebrow and a flash of anger in Maria's brown eyes were enough to quell any argument or protest from Justine, and she lay meekly over the offered lap, trembling, her quivering buttocks anticipating another stinging barrage of smacks. To her surprise she felt the blessed coolness of soothing lotion, which was then thoroughly and gently massaged in by Maria's firm and talented fingers. Water was sluiced over her still steaming rump and then the excess grease and moisture wiped away. "How do you feel, darling?" Maria asked.

Justine made a noise of pleasure and contentment before yawning, "Sleepy, ma'am."

"Would you like a nap, sweetheart?" Maria offered.

"Yes, please," Justine accepted enthusiastically.

Maria helped the blonde girl to her feet, and led her by the hand to a bedroom, before putting her to bed and tucking her in.

It had been dark for some hours when Justine woke up, she yawned and rubbed her eyes before running a hand through her hair, she wriggled and sat up in bed, wincing as her still aching hindquarters took her weight and contacted the mattress, she wriggled until she was in a less painful position and could sit up without undue discomfort. The light came on in the bedroom and Maria stood in the doorway, wearing a sheer negligee and holding two steaming mugs of tea in her hands. She smiled at Justine, sauntered to the bed and handed one of the mugs to Justine, who took it in her both hands with a murmured thanks.

"Scoot over." Maria said, as she slipped into bed beside the girl.

"How do you feel, honey?" Maria asked, before blowing on her tea to cool it, and sipping.

"Good," Justine said with a smile, sipping her own tea. "Sore, but unstressed. You really laid it on."

"I felt you needed it, darling. You were very tense."

"Yeah, I know. I've had a rotten week."

"You've been pretty cranky for a while."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be better now."

"You better be, you can always take another ride over my lap, bratgirl!"

"Bratgirl!" Justine said with a laugh. "I'll make you remember that next time."

"It'll be your turn next month." Maria mused.

"I know. Hey, can I use the police woman uniform? I always like that scenario."