From Spanked Sweeties. Misty didn't get to keep her clothes on during the spanking or her corner time.
I accepted payment from Sammy, and as I watched his cute, tight bum make it’s way out of the shop I called after him “We love you here, Sammy, but for your bottom’s sake you had better behave so we don’t see you again this month!”
I couldn’t see his face, but I knew what I said had embarrassed him, and that his face would have been about as red as his backside was under his tight jeans.
I hummed to myself happily as I ordered my spreadsheet. Today was a red-letter day for me. You’d think the receptionist at an establishment called The Spank Shop would get to do a fair bit of spanking, and it’s true that I do. I probably spank more than most eighteen year olds, but strictly speaking I’m not employed as a spanker, so my opportunities are more limited than my mother’s, who is a part time employee, and of course Aunty Andrea.
I know my job description says receptionist, but I do a lot more than answer the phones and make coffee. I clean the place up, I prepare clients, I make sure the rooms are properly set up. I maintain the files, I do the books, and sometimes I do spank. I’m thinking of trying to have some business cards printed up that list me as an assistant. One day I’d like to even start up my own franchise.
I have a few clients of my own, there’s a sweetie called Roger who prefers me, and he’s a real honey. Generally I only spank if we’re really busy or Aunty is away. Even then it’s the younger clients, and never without Miss Andrea’s permission. I can still remember the Longwood kids fiasco. When I say younger clients I mean anyone under the age of 18. I had spanking experience when I took the job working for Aunty Andrea. I’ve got 2 younger sisters and a brother, and I’d spanked them all, as well as some cousins and a few kids I babysat. I do it a lot more since taking up employment here, but never an adult.
Again, I’m no stranger to spanking adults…well not totally. I spank my boyfriend; Evan, sometimes, and he’s 21, but that’s not really for punishment, those are for fun. He can be very naughty, too. Just because we do it for fun doesn’t mean I go easy on him, mind. He gets a good hand spanking followed by a taste of my cherry wood hairbrush.
All of us here at The Spank Shop have our own special hairbrushes. Aunty Andrea has a whole array of them, but her favourite is made of ebony. Mine is cherry wood, and Mum has a mahogany one that she actually inherited from her mother. I think it originally belong to my great grandmother, so it’s now spanked three generations of bottoms.
I said today was special, and it is. Today I get to spank my first adult as an employee of The Spank Shop.
Her name is Misty, and she’s 22. I know Misty’s family, our parents are friends. Clarkstown is a tight community, and I’ve lived here all my life, so I tend to have some level of knowledge about everyone. It’s something Aunty Andrea appreciates, because she’s a relative newcomer to the town, and often likes to know a little more than just the basics about new clients.
Misty’s appointment with me today was entirely her own doing. She had a minor accident in a car park. It was totally Misty’s fault, but she lost her temper and tried to intimidate the other driver; an older woman. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, one of the witnesses was Constable Tania Wheeler. The petite policewoman is a friend of The Spank Shop, she’s an occasional client, and she’s also sent business our way. Misty is one of those. She saw the incident, and stepped in to prevent a full-blown episode of ‘road rage’ from Misty. Misty was given the option of having the other lady press charges, or handling everything through her insurance company and come here for a little attitude adjustment. She chose the latter, and her mother was in full support of it, as she still lives at home and her parents pay for the insurance on her vehicle there wasn’t much else she could do. I wish I’d seen the incident. Constable Wheeler might be small, but she’s mighty, as my mother could attest when the pretty blonde officer put her under the strap for repeated speeding offences.
Tania…sorry I should say…Constable Wheeler, elected to let The Spank Shop deal with Misty, rather than do it herself, and as she was working today, trusted Misty’s mother to ensure she showed up here for her discipline.
Aunty said that she’s allowing me to give Misty her spanking because she thinks it will be good for my personal and professional development, and being spanked by someone a few years her junior will also drive home to Misty how silly she’s been. I heartily agree.
I guess I sound a little cruel to be so eager to spank someone else. In some ways it is. I’m going to be totally honest here. I like spanking. I really enjoy it. Spanking has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Mummy and Daddy spanked me when I was naughty, and I spanked my dolls in turn. When I got older they granted me spanking rights over Chelsea (my younger sister) and the twins, who are much younger again than Chelsea. Most, if not all, my friends were spanked, although I think I got it longer than most of them.
I can’t say I like being spanked, as an adult there are certain parts of me that do enjoy it, and the afterglow is rather pleasurable, but during the act I’m too busy with the sting and burn to think about much else other than when is it going to end. As a kid we always swapped war stories, and that’s how I know that I got it longer than the others. Even now at the age of eighteen I can be subject to a spanking over Aunty’s or Mummy’s knee, and it has happened. I have met other girls my age, and older who are also spanked regularly through my job here, but it’s not the norm. The majority of my friends at school stopped being spanked at about 14 or 15. I know spankings aren’t fun, they’re not meant to be, they hurt, and when you’re a teenage girl they’re also intensely embarrassing, but I think I had it better than my unspanked friends. They got grounded or had pocket money docked or had to do extra chores at home or had privileges removed. I got spanked. It hurt and I had difficulty sitting for a while after, and sometimes even a few days if it was a really sound spanking, but I didn’t miss out on anything or not have money to pay for things like my friends who were punished with alternative methods. I also got to expiate my guilt straight away and start with a clean slate, and after I often found I was more affectionate with my parents than before.
Of course being on the other side of the spanking is an entirely different experience and I’m able to appreciate it far more than when it’s my bottom being smacked. There are so many elements to a proper spanking and I love them all. I’ve never really discussed it with Aunty Andrea or Mummy, but I think they get a huge kick out of it, too. Aunty certainly does, you can hear it in her voice and see it in her face, it doesn’t happen with every client, but there are ones I know she looks forward to. Mum’s a different case. She’d never openly admit she enjoys it, in fact I think if anyone asked her she’d fib and say no, but if she were honest she loves it, too. She wouldn’t have spanked Chelsea and I to the ages she has if she didn’t, and I doubt she’d have taken the job here, either. You cannot work for a spank shop and not like spanking.
I suppose some people like certain aspects of it, and not others. I’m not like that. I love absolutely everything about spanking. The thing is spanking is more than just a hot red bottom or a teary face. They’re both parts of it, and very important parts at that, but they are only two elements. There are all sorts of things going on during a spanking, emotional, mental and physical. People are also affected differently depending on their age, physique, mental state, and even the reason for the spanking.
I like the embarrassment that goes with any good spanking, there’s something very empowering about turning an adult into a child by means of the way you speak to them, the way you treat them, how they’re dressed, and the method of punishment. Spanking someone the way we do it here also gives you a feeling of great power. You hold this person’s immediate fate in the palm of your hand, quite literally. You’re the one who decides whether the pain continues, or whether it stops. You make the decision about whether they have to stand in the corner not being allowed to rub their hot sore backside, or if they can do so, you also decide if they perform that corner time publicly in reception or more privately in one of the parlours, or if in fact they do corner time at all, bare bottom or clothed. It’s a huge trip, honestly.
Then there’s the feel. There’s a difference between smacking a bottom and seeing it change colour, and feeling the heat on your hand, to using an implement and seeing it’s effect on the same bottom. The impact and the rising temperature are also different depending on if you’re spanking by hand or using a hairbrush or a paddle or something else.
Feelings aren’t just about the bottom. I prefer to spank over the lap, as do my mother and Aunty Andrea. There’s an intimacy about over the knee spanking that no other position really matches. It’s very traditional and we find a lot of our clients tend to prefer maternal sort of spankings, and nothing replicates that better than a good, hard, old fashioned, over the knee spanking. Once the sting settles in they start to wriggle and the legs kick quite often. Some people don’t like the wriggling or the struggling. I’m not one of them. I adore it. There are a few reasons for that. One it means that it’s hurting, two is that the person over my thigh may not realize this, but by wriggling, and trying to avoid my hand or brush, they’re quite often putting themselves right in the line of fire, and they also give me unspanked, hard to get to areas for fresh attention. I’m not so fond of kicking, depending on how vigorous it is they can wind up accidentally kicking you as well, that’s no fun at all. Boys and girls are varying experiences. Older boys regularly become excited by being bared for a spanking. Mostly their arousal has nothing to do with the attractiveness of the spanker, although I’m sure Aunty and Mummy like to think that has something to do with it, as do I. As we’re all attractive ladies, even if I do say so myself, that could be the case here at the shop. As I was saying it’s not always motivated by how pretty the spanker is, it’s just something that happens to boys of a certain age, I think it’s nerves, they can’t help it, so you can’t punish them extra for it. Aunty often makes sure that they take care of any future excitement prior to the spanking, so there are no embarrassing accidents. I’ve followed her lead, although Evan nearly always has an erection when I put him over my knee, and he’s never lost control yet. The feel of a thick, throbbing, hot male organ pressing insistently against your thigh is absolutely heavenly too.
Afterwards you get the tears and those lovely hot throbbing bums. I like to see the eyes and noses leaking. The little ones are ever so cute like that, and it’s easy to clean them up, and give them a little TLC, before popping them in the corner to settle and cool off a bit before another cuddle session on Aunty Kimberley’s lap. I’d probably have to adjust that with Misty. I can’t imagine she’d be too receptive to a cuddle from me afterwards, but I am pretty certain her eyes will be awash with tears and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if her nose is dripping like a tap, too.
I was brought out of my reverie by the sound of the bell above the front door tingling as someone entered the shop. I looked up to see Misty walk in. “Good afternoon, Misty,” I said brightly. “How are you?”
The girl looked around anxiously, and answered “Okay, I guess.”
I frowned and corrected her “I’m well Miss Kimberley, thank you for asking.”
Misty stared at me, incomprehension evident on her face.
I bit back a sigh, and said “Do you want to try it again? Good afternoon, Misty. How are you?”
Understanding dawned on her face slowly, and she replied hesitantly “I’m well Miss Kimberley, thank you for asking.”
“Much better,” I said with a smile. “Manners don’t cost anything. If you want to go through that door over there, I’ll be in to deal with you directly.”
Misty looked at the door I had indicated, and then at me asking “You? I thought…”
“Yes Misty?” I put to her, my finger tapping on the desk as I tended to do when I got annoyed with someone.
“You’re going to spank me?”
“Miss Andrea,” I said sharply. “Has decided to let me handle this matter, if you want to take it up with her I can call her in, but she’s really not going to be pleased that you’re questioning her judgement. You’ve also neglected to call me Miss on three separate occasions, now. I’ll let that go, because you’re a new client and don’t totally understand how we do things here, but if you do it again I am afraid I’ll need to reinforce the message.”
Misty’s already fair skin went a shade paler after the threat. I had not actually mentioned that I would add to her spanking if she didn’t start calling me Miss Kimberley, in fact I hadn’t even used the word spank, but my meaning was quite clear, and I was pleased that Misty had understood what I was getting at. The use of Andrea’s name often tended to work miracles with people. I don’t know what it is about Aunty, but she does scare people. I find her totally lovely, but she is a fearsome spanker, as I know from bitter experience, and that may be what does it. She’s gained quite a reputation since she arrived here and opened the shop. Misty’s shoulders slumped, she murmured a “Yes Miss,” and went to the door I had pointed her to earlier.
Once the door had closed I picked up the phone and rang through to my mother in her parlour.
“Yes, darling?” she answered.
“Misty’s here for her smacking, Mum. Are you able to come out and watch reception for me?”
“I’ll be out in a tick,” she told me.
“Aunty Andrea’s free at present. Her next appointment is due in twenty minutes, and you’re free for the next hour,” I told my mother as she took a seat at my desk.
“So is there anything special I need to know?” she asked me, fluffing her lovely blonde hair a little.
I bit my lip while I thought about it, and answered “No, just answer the phones. The spreadsheet is on the computer, and my appointment book is there if you want to write anything down. You can call me while I’m spanking Misty if you really need to.”
My mother smiled “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling. You go in there and spank that young lady until she can’t sit down, Kimmy. Give her a few for me, too.”
Misty was standing in the middle of the room, hugging herself when I entered. I had laid a crackling fire earlier, so she wasn’t doing it because she was cold, it was nerves, it happens to the best of us right before a bottom warming.
I seated myself in a chair and looked Misty up and down. She’s not a tall girl, although she’s a couple of inches taller than me, but I’m a bit of a titch, Aunty describes it as petite. The about to be spanked girl had shoulder length light brown hair and fair skin, there’s a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, which actually add to her attractiveness. Her eyes are a deep, rich brown and quite wide at present. I was pleased to see that she had dressed sensibly and demurely for the visit. Tight mid length pleated tartan skirt, a plain white blouse and a short black jacket, she was wearing stockings and flat shoes. Shame I wanted her nude for this.
“You’re jiggling,” I told Misty.
The girl winced and said “I need to pee…” remembering to add, “Miss,” at the last moment.
“Misty, if you need to go potty,” the girl blushed at the childish term, “then you can go out to reception and Aunty Gabrielle will tell you where the toilet is. I’d recommend you do that before we get started, because if you have an accident on Miss Kimberley’s lap, I will become very cross with you.”
“Thank you, Miss,” Misty gabbled, and fled the room.
I welcomed the respite to go through in my head what I had planned for Misty this afternoon. The ‘war chest’ (the wardrobe that contains all of Aunty Andrea’s spanking ‘toys’) was in her parlour, so I had needed to get what I wanted to use on Misty from there earlier. The only exception was my hairbrush, it travelled to and from work in my handbag and spent the day in my desk drawer in case I needed to use it at work. I’d brought it in with me.
I wanted to give myself a few options with Misty, so I had some things in here that I probably wouldn’t use. She’d be warmed up by hand of course. I’d follow that up with one of either the slipper or my cherry wood hairbrush, because the purpose of this was to drive home to Misty how childishly she’d behaved, I was leaning towards the slipper, plus it was apparently what her mother had spanked her with when she was little. I’d polish her off with some good solid swats from the lexan paddle, this one was like a ping pong paddle made out of clear plastic. For those not in the know lexan is a lightweight, but dense plastic. I’m not sure what it was originally designed to be used for, but it makes really good paddles and I’ve even heard of canes made out of it. Nothing will ever replace the good old fashioned wooden paddle, but lexan is wonderful. They make all sorts of paddles out of it, they’re not overly expensive. The weight makes it easy to use and lets you give a good long paddling with it, but because it’s so dense it really stings and makes the bottoms hot and red, but doesn’t bruise. It would really make an impression on Misty I felt.
Misty arrived back in the room. “Feel better now?” I asked.
She nodded nervously.
“Come stand in front of me, Misty,” I ordered, taking my seat again.
The girl stood in front of me, and I could see her desperately trying to process the situation. That’s quite common with new clients. Being sent to The Spank Shop can be a very overwhelming experience.
“Misty, why are you here?” I asked, making my voice and my expression stern.
Misty stared at me, not saying anything.
“I asked you a question, young lady,” I scolded. “I expect an answer.”
“I…uhhh…Miss, I thought you knew,” she stuttered lamely.
“I’ve heard a version of events. I want you to tell me what happened and why you think you were sent here for a spanking.”
Misty flinched at the word spanking, and started “I had a prang…crash, ma’am, in a car park.”
“Surely damaging your car is sufficient punishment for bad driving, Misty,” I put to her.
The girl winced “It wasn’t just that, I got angry at the other lady, and then Tan…Constable Wheeler got involved, and it was a case of I either come here or wind up at the police station. Mum and Dad got really angry at me and when Tan…Constable Wheeler suggested here, they said yes.”
She looked so crestfallen I didn’t even have the heart to pull her up for not calling me Miss or ma’am. Misty’s temper had always been a problem with her. She was ahead of me at school, but her tantrums were legendary. Mummy said it’s because her parents stopped spanking her when she was 11. She might be correct, but my Mum tends to be a little spank happy at times. With her it’s not a last or even a first resort, it’s her only resort. I don’t think it was a case of Misty not being spanked, I think it was a situation of her not being disciplined at all after she turned 11. I’d seen her in action in the past, she was really good at talking herself out of a situation. Men just melted. Shame for her that I was pretty good at using my looks and behaviour to do the same thing. Women tend to be less susceptible to these things, and I think that’s why the shop is all female, and if I have anything to do about it, always will be.
“So, it was your temper then?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied with a nod.
“We have a cure for that here at The Spank Shop. Can you guess what that is, Misty?”
“A smacked bottom, Miss,” she answered in a whisper.
The two of us looked at each other, my blue eyes into her brown ones. “Take off your clothes, please Misty,” I ordered.
“Ummm…where, Miss Kimberley?”
“How much, ma’am?”
“All of them.”
“All of them!” Misty repeated my words.
“Is there an echo in here?” I asked rhetorically. “I won’t warn you again about showing me the proper respect either, again, little girl. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen, so get those clothes off! I’ll be very cross if I have to get up and help you with it.”
Watching me nervously, Misty started to disrobe. I took the garments from her as she took them off, and folded them neatly to place them on another chair. They would be given back to the girl before she left the room.
I have admit she had a nice body. She was slim and clean limbed. Her stomach was flat, and she had long toned legs. Her bottom was two pale half moons, and in between her legs there was a fluffy brown landing strip. As there wasn’t much hair there I wondered if she’d been clean-shaven down there not too long ago.
Once she was nude Misty looked at me for her next cue. I crossed my legs and patted my lap. “Over you get,” I said briskly, trying to get the butterflies flittering around my own stomach under control. This was for me a huge buzz, and I was a little light headed.
Misty stood by my knee and awkwardly lowered herself over my crossed legs. I don’t generally cross my legs when I spank. Usually, as I spank younger clients I can sit in a chair and fit them across my lap, and they can’t touch the ground. If it’s someone taller, like Evan, or one of the Waynwright twins, they’re tall girls, I’ll sit on a couch or a bed, so that their body is supported and I can control them. There wasn’t a couch or a bed in this parlour. Misty was taller than me, and I had to make do. By crossing my legs I was able to balance Misty over my thigh, and it would also stretch her bottom tight, which tended to make the slaps hurt more. Angled across my thigh, Misty could just touch the floor with tops of her fingers and the tips of her toes. She was right where I wanted her.
I fondled and stroked her soft white cheeks, and had to stop myself from literally purring. God, she was adorable! She shivered a little under my ministrations, and I saw the ripple go through those cotton ball like globes.
“Misty, if you can,” I advised the girl dangling over my lap. “You may want to grab the crossbar of the chair. It’ll make it easier to hang on.”
I felt Misty do just that, and then heard the inhaled hiss of breath a split second after my palm exploded across her upturned buttocks. I spank differently to Aunty Andrea and Mum. They both start it off by smacking one cheek or the other. I don’t. I begin right in the centre. Then I go low and high, once I’ve given those three, I settle into a rhythm and fill the other other areas in with colour. That’s what I did with Misty.
Even if I hadn’t known that her last spanking was when she was 11, I would have worked out that it was something similar. Virgins, at the shop that’s what we call someone getting their first ever spanking, or those who haven’t been spanked from some years, carry on a lot. Misty was no exception, her lungs were open as she wailed, and her bottom rolled while her legs kicked about. Thank goodness I made her take her shoes off!
Despite the fact that Misty was the oldest person I’d ever spanked she was about the biggest baby. She was so loud that I could barely hear the slaps over her howls. I half expected Mum to ring through from reception and ask me to keep it down!
Those pale crescents soon went from lily white to blushing pink to a hot rich red under my firm palm. I was a little disappointed really. Being older, bigger and stronger I’d hoped to have the opportunity to try out a few different techniques on her, but Misty was reddening and heating up so quickly that all I was able to do would be give her a good sound spanking before she’d be ready for the slipper. I pouted and smacked her bottom really hard. That made her jump. I was so annoyed that I really put my back into it when I sizzled her thighs. I thought she was going to take flight when I did that. She may have actually said a naughty word, but I couldn’t really accuse her of it, because I couldn’t understand most of what came out of her mouth, it was all incoherent yelling, mixed up with sobbing.
Misty was bawling, and I could actually see a small puddle of tears on the floor near her head by the time I judged she was properly cooked. I turned my hand and placed the back of it on her simmering hemispheres. I took it away really quickly. She was like a preheated oven back there. I thought she was going to burn my hand. I doubted we’d see another case of road rage from this young woman, but we still weren’t done yet. No matter how much she felt she’d been spanked any 22 year old who had been referred to us by an officer of the law could not get out of this with just a simple hand spanking.
I helped Misty get to her feet. She stood in front of me, and looked the very picture of misery. Tears trickled down her face, her nose was running, strands of her hair were plastered to her face by a mixture of tears, snot and saliva. I clicked my tongue in annoyance that I had not thought to tie her hair back before starting. If Aunty Andrea found out about that oversight I could be the one getting my backside roasted. Misty’s hands were about to go to her steaming rear, before I said sharply “No rubbing!” I stood up, picked some tissues from a cute white rabbit shaped holder on a small table, and began to clean the girl’s face, saying “My goodness! All that fuss and bother about a childish little smack bottom! Maybe Mummy needs to spank you a bit more often, Misty.”
A muffled “No please! I’ll be good Miss Kimberley!” came from beneath the tissues.
I held back a giggle. She sounded so much like a naughty six year old that it was hard not to laugh. Aunty Andrea says it always surprises her how the clients turn into children when they’re spanked, and Misty was exactly the same.
“It’s a shame the lady you bullied in the car park can’t see this,” I remarked as I finished cleaning Misty’s face.
Misty looked glum “Mum says I have to apologise to her and tell her what happened here, ma’am.”
“Oh well I’d best do a good job, then.”
The brown eyes went wide “We’re not done?”
I looked at her sharply, and she added ‘Miss,’ onto the question.
“No, Misty, we’re far from done, young lady. You were referred here by Constable Wheeler. Did you think that you could get off with a little smack bottom when the police had to be involved?”
I saw her mouth “It wasn’t little!” but decided to let it go, and she did have the sense to answer politely “No, Miss Kimberley.”
“Misty, go to the corner and place your hands on your head.”
She opened her mouth to argue, saw the expression on my face and did as she was told. Her bottom was very red, and as I knew, quite hot to the touch. I almost felt story for her.
I sat down and was about to deliver a scolding, then the door opened. My first thought was that my time couldn’t be up, I was just getting into it, my second was that something had gone wrong in reception and Mum needed me. I looked around to see my mother’s smiling face. She was holding a steaming mug in her hand “I was listening outside, and thought you were up to the scolding,” she explained. “I also thought you could do with a cup of tea, darling. I know I always enjoy one after a good hand spanking.”
“Oh that’s lovely, Mum!” I exclaimed, gratefully accepting the mug from her, and inhaling the steam as I cupped it in my hands. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Kimmy,” she smiled at me. “My isn’t Misty an adorable shade of red? She came up well just under your hand, dear. Do you mind if I have a feel, just to check her temperature?”
“Be my guest,” I offered, sipping my tea blissfully.
Mum placed a hand on Misty’s twitching rump and quickly withdrew it “She’s as hot as a stove! Good job, sweetheart.” She gracefully withdrew, and I was left alone with Misty and her glow in the dark backside.
“Misty,” I began sternly, “you’ve always had a temper, young lady, and that’s now landed you in some very hot water.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the girl sniffled.
“You’ve been allowed to get away with too much for too long. I hope my hand and lap are teaching you that even at 22 consequences have actions, and you’re not too old for a good smacked bottom.”
“No, Miss Kimberley,” Misty sobbed.
I knew she was hurting, but I had to do this properly, especially since it was my first adult client. I had to impress Aunty, and that meant really scorching Misty’s rump.
“How old were you last time Mummy spanked you?” I asked Misty.
There was a pause while she tried to work it out in her head “I think I was 11, ma’am.”
“Eleven years ago!” I exclaimed. “You were overdue. No wonder you thought you could get away with things. I’ll be having a chat to your mother after this and recommending more regular discipline for you. When is best to call her?”
A thoroughly miserable Misty moaned, but answered “She’s coming to pick me up after this, Miss.”
“Oh excellent!” I said, sipping tea. “I’ll speak to her then. What did Mummy do to you last time you were over her lap?”
“She slippered me, Miss Kimberley.”
I already had both pieces of information. I had discussed it with Mrs Kendall and Constable Tania Wheeler when they had booked Misty in, but I wanted the girl to vocalize it herself. It’s a technique both Mum and Aunty Andrea use, and it seems to work well.
“Misty, “ I addressed the girl. “I want you to turn and look at the table next to the far wall and tell me what you see on it.”
I watched the girl’s buttocks jiggle a little as she sighed and turned her upper torso to look at the table, I heard her sigh “Oh God!” then she answered me. “A ppaddle, I think, a hhairbrush, and a slipper.” More sobs escaped her lips.
“Good girl,” I wasn’t going to make an issue of her forgetting to call me Miss again, she was in a bit of a state. “You may leave the corner and bring me the slipper.”
Misty’s legs wobbled as she made her way to me, the slipper cradled gently in her hands, as if it were breakable.
I patted my thigh again, “You know what to do, sweetheart.”
Still crying softly Misty lowered herself over my lap and lay there limply while I arranged her to my satisfaction. I’d mainly concentrated on her lovely slim buttocks, but this last exchange had displayed to me a very nice pair of perky little breasts as well. She was very cute.
I admired her bottom, it hadn’t lost much colour in the corner, and the warmth I could still feel rising from it told me that she had cooled down just enough to make rewarming it quite an unpleasant experience for her. I glided the slipper’s flat leather sole over both of Misty’s cheeks, and she shuddered. “Oh yes,” I cooed. “It’s been a long time, Misty, but your naughty little derriere remembers Mrs Slipper all too well.”
I raised the slipper and brought it flashing down to land with a flat crack across one twitching globe. I snapped my wrist at just the right time and that made it sting that little bit more. Misty squealed as the other hemisphere got the same treatment. A flexible slipper is not unlike a very broad, but light strap, and Misty was certainly putting on a performance that would rival any young lady under the tawse. She howled, cried, yelled, kicked, bucked and squirmed. When I put the slipper to her upper thighs and sit spots, turning them the same shade of crimson as her seared buttocks, she went close to hysterical and was actually quite difficult to hold in place. I play tennis regularly, I also swim and ride horses, I walk a lot, too, so I’m fit and I’m stronger than I look. Just as well, because I doubt I could have kept Misty over my lap if I weren’t. I was going to move one of the ottomans in here after this, it would provide a better place to sit for any other sessions with older, taller clients.
Misty was well and truly beyond caring about her modesty as she threw her legs around trying to quench the fires that the slipper was igniting on her bottom and thighs. I could see her little rosebud flashing in and out of view as she kicked and roared, her buttocks pumping up and down frantically. “I’m soreeee, Miss Kimberleee!” she wailed. “I won’t lose my temper again!”
“It’s not me, you need to be saying sorry to, young lady!” I told the soundly spanked young woman flailing about over my thighs, I had to speak up to be heard over the loud cracking of the slipper and Misty’s histrionics. Despite the scolding I was determined not to miss a beat of this spanking, and I didn’t. “It’s your parents and the lady you inconvenienced and intimidated you need to apologise to, Misty.”
“Yyesssss ma’am, I will! I promise!” Misty blubbered, giving up and laying limply and miserably over my lap, just letting out piteous cries as the slipper smacked down relentlessly.
I sighed and smiled. She was broken. The slipper had done its job. I put it aside, and let Misty cry as she worked out what had happened. She blubbered and I told her that she could stand up. She got stiffly and slowly back to her feet and stood in front of me, still hiccupping and crying. I looked up her trembling body. The long, slim shaking legs, the patch of downy fluff between those legs, her flat tummy, the heaving perky breasts, the nipples were standing out and a little swollen, so one part of her mind didn’t entirely dislike the ordeal. I filed that information away. When I got to her face, I nearly hit my forehead in annoyance and thought ‘Kimberley Susan! You’d forget your own head if it wasn’t screwed on!’ I had forgotten to tie her hair back and it was a real mess, made quite nasty with a combination of Misty’s sweat, tears, saliva and mucus. “You may rub for a bit, Misty, as long as you remove your hands and do what Miss Kimberley tells you when she tells you.”
The look of gratitude Misty gave me when I told her she was allowed to soothe her roasting rear was almost pathetic. I sat back, and watched as she desperately tried to rub the heat out.
After I’d amused myself watching Misty dance and try to soothe her scalded backside, I ordered her to stop. She stood facing me, no longer concerned about how vulnerable she felt, or how embarrassed by being nude. I rose and sauntered past her to pick up the ping pong bat sized lexan paddle.
“Please no, Miss Kimberley,” Misty begged. “Please no more, I don’t think I can take it.”
“Don’t beg, Misty,” I said. “It’s really not a very becoming trait. I know you feel like you can’t take any more, but we know what we’re doing here. I’ve been careful, and you’re not even bruised yet. That’s why it’s your bottom that gets spanked. It’s designed to take this sort of punishment. This paddle is made out of lexan…”
Despite herself Misty interrupted me curiously “What’s that?”
I didn’t see the harm in explaining it to her “It’s a dense plastic. It’s quite light, but packs a wallop. It won’t bruise, but it will sting and burn.”
Misty whimpered and shivered.
“Bend over and place your hands flat on the chair,” I ordered Misty.
She cast me a sorrowful look, but didn’t argue. “Spread your legs!” I barked. “Bottom thrust out for me. You don’t have to count, I’ll do that.”
For most of Misty’s chastisement I’d simply spanked until I thought she’d had enough. Despite what I’d told her she really had been punished very thoroughly. For that reason I’d decided on a set number. I hadn’t told Misty how many I was going to give her, I preferred to keep her guessing on that front. It heightened the tension.
I applied eighteen firm swats to Misty’s thrust out buttocks, and because I’d told her to spread her legs I was able to use the paddle in between her cheeks, that was a tender area that was usually protected and rarely punished. I pride myself on having learnt how to give an excruciating spanking. Misty screamed when I got into those areas, and she was almost as loud when her sit spots and upper thighs got roasted again. Her bottom was a throbbing scarlet ball of pain by the time I was done with her. I told her to get into the corner and once she was installed in there I left briefly to fetch a bowl of warm water, and some towels.
I took Misty out of the corner, and hugged her while she cried into my shoulder. I told her I was proud of her, and that she had taken her spanking very well all things considered. I cleaned her face, and then gave her instructions to clean herself up with the water and the towels, especially her hair, then she could dress and come out again.
Mrs Kendall was seated in reception, chatting to my mother and sipping a cup of tea.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Kendall,” I greeted her politely. “Everything okay out here, Mum?” I asked my mother, as I took my seat behind the desk again.
“Oh yes, it was fine. I took a couple of calls and made Fiona here a cup of tea. Andrea’s with a client.”
I nodded. “Your next appointment should be here soon.”
Mum accepted the information, and excused herself, before disappearing into her parlour.
“How did Misty take it?” Fiona Kendall inquired.
“She carried on a lot, but I think she accepted it. She may require regular discipline ma’am to keep her behaving.”
Fiona sipped her tea, and nodded “I was thinking that myself when all this blew up.”
“If you, or Mr Kendall don’t want to it, or can’t, we’d be happy to accept her as a client here.”
Mrs Kendall smiled over the rim of her cup, but said “Thank you for that Kimberley. We’ll certainly consider it.”
Misty walked stiffly out of the parlour, the ends of her hair still damp, but clean, and a pained look on her pretty face. Mrs Kendall put an arm over her daughter’s shoulders, and helped her with the payment. Just as they left the shop the bell tingled merrily, and Rachel McMillan entered, a less than pleased look on her face.