Friday, 31 August 2012

Spanked by a girlfriend's mother - a memory

Hello to you all again, today we have another of Alan's memories to relive with him. I hope you all enjoy.

Mrs B wants you over her lap.

Warming up her daughter's bottom.

And now for her little friend.

Wear my stockings when you're supposed to be studying, will you?

A close up.

Every Wednesday afternoon, after lunch, I was scheduled to go to Helene B's house; a female friend from college with whom I studied. One Wednesday while her mother was out shopping, Helene drew me into her parent’s bedroom. She wanted to show me some "women’s secrets." After opening drawers, Helen took out nylon stockings, garter belt, pantyhose and asked me which I preferred. Remembering the thighs of Miss Josette sheathed in nylon stockings a few weeks earlier, prompted me to choose stockings, and Helene sat on the edge of the parental bed, took off her white socks and pulled on the black stockings, along her thighs teenage self-supporting stockings with elastic garters, Helen amused herself for my greatest pleasure to cross and uncross her legs and let me glimpse the bottom edge. We were only fifteen, and girls then were always dressed with pleated skirts, socks and clearly temptation was too strong to dress themselves as young ladies. We had so much fun that  we did not hear the return of Helen's mother…

Mrs. B. searched for us all over the house and eventually surprised us upstairsin her bedroom, hands on hips, she called us.

"What are you doing in my bedroom? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

Mrs. B. looked at us, and saw that her daughter was wearing nylon stockings.

"Go down in the dining room and wait for me! I’ll put away your mess before taking care of you two!"

We hurried down to the main room and sat side by side. We pretended to carry out the work that we had not started. We were both quite worried, and I asked Helen what was going to happen. She told me that we would receive a severe moral lesson, but the worst thing for her, once we completed our homework, because she feared punishment from her mother in case of poor performance or disobedience at school and told me that once I was gone, back home, she would certainly be spanked with her skirt up and tucked safely away, pants down, because she had disobeyed her mother, and was not allowed to enter her parent’s bedroom and rummage about in her mother’s things.
We heard Mrs B. come down the stairs and a few seconds later, she came into the room where we were. Without saying a word, she took a chair, positioned it in the middle of the room, sat down and motioned for Helen to come forward. Before getting up and join her mother, Helen whispered.

"My God, I'm good for spanking now, ... in front of you ... hopefully because you're here I'll get to keep my skirt ... I hope that tomorrow you will say nothing our to our friends at college ... Promise me!”

Helene went to her mother. Without wasting time Mrs B. laid her daughter across her thighs, held her there firmly, pulled her skirt up, and I could see my girlfriend in white panties. Mrs. B. continued, and pulled Helene's panties down. The panties slid easily down Helene’s the thighs, legs still sheathed in nylon stockings. Her mother spanked her daughter’s bare bottom for several minutes daughter.  Helene cried under the slaps, kicked and screamed and begged her mother to stop between sobs.

I had a direct view of Helen’s bare buttocks of under the rapid slaps, squeezing her curves which made me blush! The spanking was quick but intense. Mrs. B. stopped spanking and raised her daughter up, who took off the nylon stockings and gave them to her mother. Helene, sobbing, skirt still tucked up went to the corner of the room, nose to the wall, scarlet buttocks exposed to my view.

Then Mrs. B. beckoned me to approach her. My turn. I was somewhat reassured because I still remembered the bitter and painful spanking that I had received a few weeks earlier from the hand of Miss Josette; my young neighbor, for looking up her skirt on the stairs. I walked towards my friend’s mother. Mrs. B. grabbed me by the belt, she unbuttoned my pants, dropped them to mid-thigh, and swung me across her lap, and when she was ready to spank me, she called Helene.

"You can watch your friend Hélène, he looked while I spanked you!"

I was not very proud in that position over; the lap of the mother of my girlfriend, but also because my friend was attending my spanking "butt naked."

Looking up, I saw Helen looking at me, and smiling, just like me a few minutes earlier. She had a good view of my bare buttocks and also my privates. I was looking desperately for a way to protect myself with both hands, but Mrs. B. as Miss Josette had, grabbed my wrists and pulled me deep into her lap. Instinctively I squeezed my buttocks tight, but no fast enough for Mrs. B. began to spank me as long nd soundly as she had spanked her daughter. The palm of her hand bouncing alternately on each of my buttocks, making them hot and sore.

When she was finished, she sent me back to my friend against the wall of the room, pants and underwear down at my ankles, my behind crimson and painful with tears in our eyes.

We both remained there with naked red buttocks on display for a long time, noses to the wall, and when Mrs. B. allowed us out, and  to get dressed, our bottoms were still warm again. In the future, our Wednesday afternoons were much more studious.

Spanked by Josette - a memory

Hello darlings! I have a memory to share with you today, this is from the lovely Alan, and recalls what I am sure was a very formative afternoon for him.

Miss Josette settles accounts with her cheeky young neighbour.

Since I enjoy visiting blogs such as this one devoted to spanking, I am confirmed in my view that women as mother, aunty, teacher, girlfriend, lover or wife are formidable spankers, knowing quickly how undress a behind, either male or female, to administer a good spanking both sound and stinging in the case of disobedience, be that for silly behaviour, lying, etc…

For my part, I was not spanked until my senior year of college, when I was fourteen years old, not from the hand of my mother, who has never spanked me, but the palm of a female young neighbor, then the mother of a classmate, and finally that of a female friend of my mother.

But this is a long story...

When I was 15 years old, my next-door neighbor was a 25 year old woman who worked as a hairdresser. Her name was Josette. Every time she was on the stairs, I tried to walk behind her, looking under her short skirts, because Miss Josette did not wear pantyhose, but only stockings and I wanted to see her thighs, garter belt and pant. One afternoon, a Wednesday, around noon, returned home from college, I was behind her on the stairs, looking her stockings, and when I arrived on our floor, she was waiting for me, arms crossed.

“Do you think I don’t see you behind me every time I am on the stairs? Come with me to my studio, I have to speak to you.”

Blushing, I followed her inside and she locked the door behind us, dropped her hand bag on the table, took a chair, and put it in the middle of the room. She crooked forefinger at me to stand by her. When I was just in front her, she grabbed my hips, unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down to my knees, laid me on her lap, head down and my bottom up. She took off my underpants, and my bare tummy lay on her wool skirt and nylon stockings, but also bare bottom  to her gaze on her lap, she held me by the waist, then I realized she was ready to spank me like a small child; on my bare bottom.

I had never received a spanking before, because I was a good child, obedient and hardworking; what I knew about spanking in families is that usually spanking, boys and girls, was given by women (mother, aunt, teacher) and typically spanking was given and received pants down or skirt up, sometimes pants down when stupidity was serious, and that spanking was humiliating and also stinging and burning after.

Miss Josette lectured me.

“So, now you are fifteen, normally you are not a bad child, but however I am going to spank you on your bare bottom as you are a scoundrel and after a good spanking I am sure that you will not look under the skirts of a young lady!”

And she began to spank me ... she spanked my bare bum, alternately, with cadence, several dozen slaps, the right buttock, the left buttock, my bottom was jolted and warmed under the slaps. I was humbled to be bare bottomed and my backside was hurting, but squeezing buttocks and teeth, with both hands clutching the legs of the chair, I resisted the pain, but not the humiliation after several dozen spanks that I did not count.

After several minutes and a great many smacks on my burning buttocks, Miss Josette stopped spanking. I thought the spanking was over, and I wanted to rub my buttocks with both hands to dissipate the heat and the pain, but Miss Josette took my wrists and repositioned my arms above the bottom.

“Well young man, I'm not done, I'm just starting, it was just a warm up, now I know how many are muscular and firm your butt is, I can spank you as you deserve, and as I want to make you pay for your insolence and rudeness!”

Miss Josette started to spank me faster and harder … I began to sob ... I begged her to stop the spanking ...  I promised her that I was sorry, I promised her that I didn’t look under her skirt ... I was crying between the slaps … my legs flailing when slaps smacked into my painful rear.

After a very long time, Miss Josette stopped the spanking. She left her now warm right hand on my buttocks.

“Your spanking is finished.I like the redness and warmth of your buttocks. I hope you understood the lesson. In the future, look under the skirts of your girlfriends who also are fifteen years old, and not under the skirts of a young lady!”

She stood me up from her lap, and I knelt on her right, crying and vigorously rubbing my very sore and hot bottom.

Josette took my chin with her fingers, looked me in the face and raised it with her forefinger, telling me.

“Stand in the corner, hands on your head, leave your bottom bare and if you dare move, I will spank you again immediately!”

I stood there a long time, feeling very embarrassed to have been spanked on my bare bottom by such a wonderful lady. Twenty minutes later, she came to me and rubbed my bare bottom, happy that my bottom was again red and hot.

“You can put your trousers on and go away, but the next time you look under my skirt, I will spank you in front all my hairdresser female colleagues and maybe they would like also to spank you ... the spanking would be much worse than today!”

I left her apartment, but not fast enough, because at the door Miss Josette gave me one last slap on the bottom before I left. Like every Wednesday afternoon, I was alone and I stood for long minutes, lying on my stomach, with a cold wet towel on my freshly spanked, hot bare buttocks.

Miss Josette never spoke of this "incident" to my parents, and she herself had preferred to settle accounts with me, and especially with my bare buttocks.

So after this spanking, every time I met her on the stairs, she looked at me with a mocking smile and I was reminded of the first time she took me upstairs!

Friday, 24 August 2012

Polka Dots

As readers well know Aunty is not really a panty spanker. I'm a bare bottom lady right from the get go, although there is something appealing about warming the seat of the panties before taking them down and continuing the job on a nicely primed set of hindquarters.

I saw these shots on CF Shots and thought people may enjoy them.

Aren't they pretty pink polka dotted panties? They also look rather sturdy, but that young lady is over the lap of Clare Fonda and she is the mistress when it comes to roasting rumps.

I'm  not exactly sure what she's being spanked for, but maybe the artwork on her shoulder and her lower back has something to do with it. It was nice of her to wear a pair of knickers that provided Clare with a guide of how red to make her bottom, and she's ensuring that she smacks around them as well as on them.

Both ladies are setting up quite the racket here. Clare's scolding combined with the slaps, and the other young ladies yelps of pain as her bottom heats up over those stern knees. Good idea to let the bed take most of her weight too.

And she soothes her aching botty after. I can assure you that the pants did come down later in the shoot, although from the state of her backside it looks like the area around them came in for the bulk of the attention.

That certainly warmed up my weekend.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

'Sister Act'

While Aunty has been laid up in bed with a nasty cold, Seegee has been busy and provided a new story. This one concerns two sisters and warns of the perils of irresponsible behaviour and spending. Woe betide one of these girls if she ever enters my shop!

Please enjoy Sister Act.

A koa wood hairbrush. Doesn't the wood have a lovely lustre to it?

From Girl Spanks Girl. Lydia gets sister Cindy over her lap.

From Firm Hand Spanking. Cindy nurses a sore bottom after an encounter with her sister's koa wood hairbrush.

Lydia Dalton scanned the official looking letter on the kitchen table in front of her, and then her blue eyes flicked up to the worried face of her older sister; Cindy, seated across from her. Lydia sighed, sipped her coffee and said “This is bad, Cindy.”

“How bad?” the other lady asked.

“About as bad as it can get,” Lydia confirmed.

“I don’t understand!” Cindy wailed, starting to cry.

“Honey,” Lydia said to her sister. “You have to pay taxes.”

“But I do! They take it out of my pay, I’ve seen it on the slip,” Cindy insisted.

“I know, but you still have to file an income tax return.”

“What am I gonna do?” Cindy demanded. “I don’t have that money!”

Lydia rolled her eyes, and sighed “I know. Believe me, I know that.”

“What will they do if I don’t pay it?” Cindy asked, sipping her coffee.

“I’ve never been in this situation before, Cinders, but I guess they’ll take whatever assets you have in an attempt to get some of money you’ve never paid.”

‘I don’t have any assets,” Cindy moaned. “Except my car.”

“Which Richard and I paid for after you defaulted on the loan,” Lydia said.

“Can you pay it?” Cindy seized on the idea.

Lydia averted her eyes. From the minute Cindy had mentioned financial difficulties she knew that question was coming. Cindy had never been financially responsible. Whatever money she got, she spent almost as soon as it was in her hands, she was still struggling to pay off an impressive credit card debt, although it didn’t stop her from adding to it regularly. Lydia didn’t have to work, her husband was a highly successful financial advisor, he made enough to support her and their children, with plenty left over, but they’d bailed out Cindy before. Lydia knew she’d pay Cindy’s tax bill off, it would mean they’d have to wait to get their driveway repaved, but they wouldn’t really go without, but she was going to do her best to make sure that this was the last time.

“We’ll need to go see Richard at his office,” Lydia told her sister. “We’ll go through your finances, and draw up a proper budget. You’re going to stick to it, Cindy. After that you and I are going to have a long serious discussion about responsibility.”
Cindy flinched at the comparatively mild scolding. Lydia may be her sister, but she was tough, and when she said something she meant it.

Cindy looked at the detailed financial plan and budget. Lydia watched her, and studied the expressions on her face. Cindy wasn’t happy about it, but tough. She was damned lucky they were going to bail her out and not let the tax department bankrupt her.

“This is pretty tough, sis,” Cindy said.

“Personally I think Richard went easy on you,” Lydia replied. “You’re costing us money we could have used another way.”

“I guess I can try,” Cindy murmured.

“Oh, you’re going to do more than try, young lady,” Lydia vowed. “We’ll get together next week and look at it then.”

Despite sharing fair skin and light hair Lydia and Cindy were as different as two sisters could be. In a slight reversal of the expected roles, Lydia as the younger sibling was the responsible, mature one, and always had been, whereas Cindy was the wild child who had very little sense of responsibility, and virtually no thought for consequences. Lydia had never really understood where her sister got the wild streak from. Both parents had been intelligent, practical people. It wasn’t until she was older and her mother had spoken about her father that it made some sort of sense to the younger girl. Lydia and Cindy had never met their maternal grandfather. That was because he had been an alcoholic who abandoned his wife and children after only a few years of marriage. Lydia had married young and had two wonderful children. Cindy had a string of boyfriends, but had never been with anyone long enough to even get engaged, let alone married.

Lydia fervently wished her parents had been harder on them. She rarely misbehaved, and a raised voice had been enough to pull her back into line, but the more Cindy was punished the worse her behaviour got. Possibly because her father’s parents had been abusive neither of them believed in corporal punishment. Lydia could remember Cindy getting one smack on the behind for running out on the road one day, but that was it as far as physical discipline went. Richard got spanked when he was little, and Lydia found it an effective method to correct their children, it got the message across, and she didn’t need to do it often. Cindy had seriously needed a smacked bottom growing up. She may have occasionally considered the consequences of her actions if she had.

Cindy breezed into Lydia’s house a week after the teary afternoon when she had first shown her sister the outstanding tax bill. “Hi Cinders,” Lydia greeted her sibling. “Go through to the kitchen. The kettle’s on.”

Once the ladies had cups of coffee in front of them Lydia asked for her sister’s financial plan. Cindy handed it across, and sipped her coffee contentedly. Before she looked the papers over, Lydia examined Cindy. “Is that a new dress?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Cindy replied. “Isn’t it sweet?”

“That’s a designer dress, Cinders,” Lydia observed, her voice hardening.

“I know. It was half price.”

Lydia let out a breath, and silently counted to ten. This was so typical Cindy. She had more dresses than she knew what to do with. There were clothes in her wardrobe that still had the price tags on them, they had never been worn, and yet she bought a designer dress, even with the financial pressure she was under. Lydia had a fair idea what shop Cindy had purchased the dress from. Even at half price it would have been quite expensive.

“Cindy,” she tried to explain. “You can’t just keep buying clothes when you’re trying to pay off that massive credit card debt of yours and stick to the plan that Richard drew up for you.”

“But it was half price!” Cindy whined. “If I’d gone back later someone else might have bought it, and the sale was only on for a day anyway.”

“So, because the dress that you didn’t need was half price you think you’re saving money?” Lydia asked rather sourly, sipping coffee.

Cindy beamed and laughed “Exactly!”

Lydia sighed and shook her head, then examined Cindy’s financial plan. She wasn’t really sticking to it very well. The dress was one thing, but there were others.

“Cindy!” Lydia exclaimed. “This really isn’t good enough! You’re not getting anywhere, and you’re not taking this seriously at all. If your niece and nephew behaved like you do I’d smack their bottoms!”

Cindy nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee before blurting out “You would not!”

“I would so!” Lydia shot back, spots of colour standing out on her fair cheeks.

“You spank the kids?” Cindy asked, her voice serious.

‘Yes, I do,” Lydia confirmed.

“But Mum and Dad never spanked us,” Cindy reasoned.

“Maybe they should have,” Lydia said, rather ominously. “Honestly, Cinders you behave like a kid most of the time. You don’t realize how your actions affect others. That’s the behaviour of someone who has never been made to face up to consequences.”

“What do you mean?” Cindy asked, her voice breaking a little.

“If you forget to pay your taxes or default on a loan or rack up a big credit card bill you come to me and I bail you out. Before that it was Mum and Dad. You get a financial plan and you don’t stick to it, but all that happens is I yell at you, and then it happens all over again. It’s got to stop, Cindy!”

“I’m sorry,” the older woman said, her voice breaking.

“You always say that, and no doubt you mean it at the time. You’ll leave here, see something on sale and go and buy it without even thinking what it means.”

“I won’t,” Cindy vowed.

“Yeah, you will, you always do,” Lydia told her. “Maybe if I spanked you the sore bottom you were sitting on would remind you that your behaviour has consequences.”

“Spank me!” Cindy gasped. “But I’m an adult, a grown woman.”

“A friend of mine said her mother always told her that she’d stop getting spanked when she proved she could behave like an adult, rather than what her chronological age was. She was sixteen the last time her mother spanked her.”


“Her younger sister was nineteen.”

“Shit!” was all Cindy could say to that revelation.

“My point is, Cindy,” Lydia tried to explain. “Is that if you act like a child then you will be treated like one.”

There was silence between the two women as they tried to process what they had just been saying to each other.

“Lucky I’m not that woman’s daughter, I guess,” Cindy sighed.

“I wish you were,” Lydia told her sister, fixing her with an icy glare.

Cindy shrugged and tossed her head “Well I’m not!”

Lydia wished she could spank her sister and then the thought occurred to her ‘Why not?’ Of course Cindy would have to accept it, but if she threatened to cancel the tax cheque maybe Cindy would agree to take some sort of punishment. It may not work, but it would make Lydia feel better, and it may also provide Cindy with the sort of short, sharp shock she most definitely needed.

“Cindy,” Lydia said softly. “You don’t seem to have learned a thing since last week. The dress clearly demonstrates that. I think a good spanking is exactly what you need.”

“Lyds,” Cindy said softly. “You don’t scare me. I’m a grown woman, and if you lay a hand on me I’m betting you’re the one who will end up over my knee.”

“You might be able to physically beat me, Cinders. I’m not sure on that point, but you need something to modify your behaviour and nothing else seems to have any effect on you.”

Cindy laughed “Lydia, it’s not going to happen! You are not going to spank me, I won’t let you.”

Lydia let a slow smile cover her face “Cindy, you do realize that the cheque Richard and I used to cover your tax bill can still be cancelled?”

The colour drained from the other woman’s face “It cannot!” she insisted.

“Yes, it can, Cindy. Now what is it going to be? A spanking, or standing on your own two feet this time?”

“Bbut, I can’t pay it,” Cindy blubbered.

“A spanking then,” Lydia said firmly, getting to her feet.

“You ccan’t…Lyds, I don’t want a spanking…I…you…”

“Cinders,” Lydia said gently. “No one ever wants a spanking, darling. You’re getting one because you need it. Now why don’t you just sit here and get your head around it, while I fetch my hairbrush.”

“Hairbrush!” Cindy exclaimed, her blue eyes wide. “You don’t hit the kids with a hairbrush, do you?”

Lydia laughed “No, I just use my hand on them, Cindy, but you’re older and bigger. I don’t think my little hand is really going to get the message through to you, young lady.”

Cindy sat numbly at the table listening to her sister’s footsteps on the stairs. Suddenly the thought struck her that Lydia’s koa wood hairbrush had actually been a present from her. She was going to be spanked by the very brush that she had given Lydia. This day could not get any stranger. Just thinking about that brush gave her the shivers. It had a long handle, with a broad flat oval back. She had imagined it stroking Lydia’s thick, lustrous golden tresses when she bought it, she had never pictured it in Lydia’s hand smacking her defenceless backside. Cindy frowned, that brush had some heft to it, too. This was going to hurt…a lot.

The brush was dangling from Lydia’s hand when she reappeared in the kitchen. Cindy flinched at the sight of it. That bothered Lydia, she hadn’t expected Cindy to be quite so upset, despite that she had to go through with this. The kids cried when they were threatened with a spanking, but she had to do it then, too. Part of what had been wrong with Cindy’s upbringing was that their parents had disciplined inconsistently. If she let Cindy off now, after having put the fear of God into her, she’d only be repeating the pattern. She schooled herself to keep both face and voice stern as she said “Come on, Cindy. We’ll do this in the living room. I can support you better on the couch.”

Cindy got shakily to her feet, using the table to lend strength to her legs, and asked “Support me?”

“When you’re over my lap.”

“Oh come on, Lydia!” Cindy protested. “You can’t be going through with this, and over the knee, I’m not a child.”

“You never grew up,” Lydia shot back. “Living room. Now!” she took a hold on Cindy’s upper arm, turned her in the direction of the living room, and propelled her with a firm smack to the seat of her new designer dress. Cindy squealed at the impact, although it hadn’t really hurt that much, and half ran into the lounge room.

Lydia seated herself in the centre of the three-seater sofa, and set the brush aside, she clasped her hands in her lap and looked up her sobbing sister. “Cindy, if I were you I’d save your tears for later, because I can assure you that you are going to need them, Miss Spendthrift.”

“You’re being horrible!” Cindy blubbered.

“Yes, the kids tell me that, too. You’re being a mean Mummy!” Lydia smiled. “It doesn’t work for them and it won’t work for you either, Cindy. You’ve tried my patience one time too many and this time you’re going to face the consequences of your behaviour. Get the dress off!”

Cindy stopped crying and asked through her tears “My dress? Why do I have to take it off?”

“It’s new and it’s expensive, do you want it damaged?”


“Then take it off.”

Sniffling, Cindy removed the dress, folded it neatly and placed it on the coffee table.

“Panties, too,” Lydia commanded.

“My pants? Lyds…”

“I spank the children’s bare bottoms, Cindy. There’s a few reasons for it. With them it’s because it’s safer, I can monitor the conditions, see how red they’re getting and feel how hot, it also drives home to them the seriousness of their infraction and proves that Mummy is in control. With you, it’s because I want you to really feel this, and I think the memory of being bare bottomed over your little sister’s lap will remain with you long after the pain and the heat of the spanking have faded, and make you pause next time you have a responsible choice to make.”

“Lydia, can’t I keep them up, please?” Cindy begged, her mascara running down her face.

“Cindy,” Lydia said. “You can either remove them yourself or I’ll do it, your choice.”

Faced with that option Cindy immediately began to take off her white lace underpants. She put them aside, and then put her hands over her front to hide her neatly trimmed little blonde muff from view.

“Oh for Gods sake, Cindy!” Lydia complained scornfully. “You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen, we’re sisters, we grew up together. I’ll want your heels off, too.”

Still holding her hands in front of her groin Cindy asked “Why? You’re not going to spank my feet, are you?”

“No, but that’s something I’ll have to remember in the future. I did read somewhere that the soles of the feet are amongst the most sensitive areas of the body. Cindy, I need you to remove your shoes because once you start kicking, and don’t say you won’t, you will, I don’t want to get hit by a flying foot, and those stilettos of yours could have someone’s eye out.”

Cindy sighed and gave her sister a filthy look, but bent down and removed her stylish and expensive designer high-heeled shoes.

“Good girl,” Lydia complemented the older sibling. “See how easy it is when you do what little sis tells you.”

Cindy blushed furiously at being treated like a small child.

“Now get yourself over my lap, Cinders,” Lydia ordered, patting her jeans.

Trembling, Cindy lay herself over Lydia’s waiting lap and squirmed a little as Lydia lifted her legs up onto the couch. For Lydia this was a very different experience to spanking her children. Both of them were under 10, and so therefore were a lot smaller than Cindy. She generally spanked them in their bedrooms, sitting on the bed. Cindy was actually a couple of inches taller than Lydia, so she had to position her a little differently, and she was glad she’d chosen the couch, she doubted she’d have been able to hold the girl on a chair, and it would have been embarrassing to get her over the knee, and then have to get up and go to the living room to reset. Even as it was she was going to have to work to hold Cindy during the chastisement. The children could get quite vigorous during a sound bottom warming, and her sister was bigger and stronger than either of them. One thing that wasn’t a lot different was the bottom settled in her lap. Cindy’s rear end was every bit as round, plump and white as the two children’s were. It was also twitching nervously exactly the same way the kids did until Mummy started to smack.

Lydia knew from experience spanking the children that it was preferable to slap a relaxed pair of cheeks, and Cindy was clenching tightly. It was a natural fearful reaction to the impending violence, but Lydia wanted them loose. She started to stroke and gently squeeze the firm, toned curves and watched them relax as the massaging produced mildly pleasurable feelings within Cindy. Once the older woman settled almost easily into the lap under her Lydia stopped fondling, and gathered her sister’s thick, shiny blonde locks into a loose pony tail at the back of her neck and secured it with a hair tie that she fished out of her pocket.

Lydia tightened an arm around her sister’s slender waist and raised her other arm high, so that her flattened palm was poised above the buttocks nestled into her waist. She brought her arm down and the hand landed with a loud SPLAT across Cindy’s left cheek. The blonde yelled and jerked. The handprint was just filling out with a pink hue when the second slap fell and got another loud squeal. Lydia firmed her jaw, and placed her next two slaps low on the bottom, right where Cindy would sit, those got animated protests, the following spanks were high; just below the base of the spine. Cindy started to squirm vigorously, and her crowns were soundly slapped.

Cindy’s entire bottom had a nice pink flush to it and Lydia placed an intense volley on her big sister’s upper thighs. Cindy kicked and wailed and Lydia thought she might take flight. She settled into a steady rhythm, being careful not to slap the same spot twice in a row, and while it seemed like an eternity to Cindy, it was really no more than two minutes of brisk spanking. The surface of Cindy’s shapely rear was a glowing red, and quite hot to the touch. She was still wriggling, although less vigorously, and Lydia could hear her sobbing gently over the ringing sound of the fusillades of spanks that she was administering to her.

Lydia stopped spanking, and shook her stinging hand, she may even have to ice it after. Cindy’s backside looked soft, but the regular gym workouts that her sister undertook had turned it into quite a muscular area. Cindy blubbered and bawled, continually saying that she was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. Lydia reached over her sister’s steaming hindquarters, and briefly felt the heat from them radiate up and over her bosom, she had to be stern with herself and not luxuriate in the feeling. She curled her hand around the handle of the brush, and raised it ominously.

The crack of the brush across Cindy’s bottom surprised even Lydia with the gunshot sharpness of the sound. That was soon drowned out by her sister’s anguished “Yeeeoowwwww! Lydiaaaaaa!”

“You’ve needed this for a long time, Cynthia Melissa!” Lydia said sternly, underlining every word with a scorching stroke of the brush.

Cindy cried hard. No one ever called her Cynthia, and to combine it with her middle name meant that Lydia was absolutely furious. If only she’d paid attention to those notices from the tax office, or tried to moderate her spending a little, it wasn’t like she really needed the clothes and shoes she was always buying. If she had just down that her bottom wouldn’t have a raging fire in it and Lydia wouldn’t be scolding her with both her full first names.

Cindy wailed and kicked and desperately wished that Lydia would stop smacking her roasting backside with that damned brush. Cindy had half a mind to take the brush once her spanking was over and burn the bloody thing! As she tasted that her nose had shamefully started running she reflected miserably that her rear end was probably hot enough to set fire to the brush all by itself. She roared as Lydia visited fire in the form of the koa wood hairbrushes unyielding back to the backs of her legs. Her bottom was muscular and it hurt, too, but her thighs were extra tender. She wouldn’t be able to wear shorts or a mini skirt until the marks faded. That meant a gym session or two in her baggy old sweats.

The brush finally stopped lighting blazes in Cindy’s writhing buttocks and she felt the back of Lydia’s hand on them gently and heard her sister exclaim “Goodness! They’re sizzling! I nearly burnt my hand!”

Cindy was of a half a mind to retort with an insult, but remembered where she was, what her sister’s temper was like and what had landed her here in the first place.

“Do you want to get up, honey?” Lydia asked Cindy, her voice affectionate.

“Yes, please,” Cindy murmured politely.

She felt Lydia’s arms around her, gently assisting her up off the lap and to a standing position. All modesty forgotten now, Cindy’s hands flew to her battered buns, and she massaged them furiously, hopping around the room in a desperate attempt to dampen down the fires by rubbing and dancing. Lydia sat back on the couch and watched the display, a smile playing across her generous lips. Cindy was unaware of how much she resembled her niece after a good bottom reddening over Mummy’s lap. Lydia plucked some tissues from a holder next to the couch and used them to wipe her forehead and wrists. Spanking a pre teen like child like one of her own was a decent enough workout, but a gym toned woman like Cindy was a real calorie burning, sweat inducing experience.

After a furious, and from Lydia’s point of view, amusing rubbing and dancing session, Cindy settled and stood in front of her sister. Her mascara had run and her makeup and lipstick was smeared. Her face was covered with tears, snot and saliva. “God, you’re a sight, sis,” Lydia said, but it was said kindly.

Despite the situation Cindy managed a smile and asked “Can I use the bathroom? I must be a real mess.”

“Go right ahead,” Lydia gave her permission, and as Cindy padded to the bathroom, her glowing red posterior making a very fetching sight, Lydia rose to put on some fresh coffee for them both.

The two ladies were seated, although it was still uncomfortable for Cindy to put much weight on her rump, on the couch, sipping coffee and chatting about their eventful afternoon wen they heard the door open and childish voices called for their mother.

“We got that done just in time, sis,” Cindy told her sibling with a smile as her niece and nephew entered the room, exclaiming “Aunt Cindy!” in delight.

Cindy was the aunt that the children saw the most, but she was also their favourite because she was fun and she nearly always had presents for them whenever she visited.

“You spoil them,” Lydia scolded gently, as the children thanked Cindy for the small toys she had given them, and ran off clutching their new treasures.

“I always will, Lyds,” Cindy admitted, then seeing her sister’s eyes flash dangerously and her hand reach for the brush on the coffee table, added. “I may have to just scale down the type of gift, though.”

As she drove home, sitting on a still throbbing bottom, Cindy reflected on the afternoon. It had been a painful one and things had taken an unexpected turn, bit thinking about it she hadn’t given Lydia much choice, and she respected her sister for finally taking action with her. There was even a little resentment that her parents had never done something similar allowing events to escalate to the point that they had. Things were going to be different now, she wasn’t ever going to give Lydia another reason to spank her again…She brought the car to a screeching halt as she saw a sign outside the mall that proudly proclaimed SALE TODAY! HALF PRICE DESIGNER SHOES & BAGS! All the pain in her bottom was forgotten as she pulled into a parking space outside the shoe store and ran inside, credit card in hand.