The feared cherry wood hairbrush.
From Girl Spanks Girl. Kimberley's bottom glows over her Aunty's lap.
From CF Shots. Andrea makes Kimberley rethink her recent behaviour.
Kimberley Kennedy watched Wendy Haverforth’s departing back and could not help a little smirk at how the girl minced when she walked. Unless the eighteen year old was mistaken there were two very sore hot bottom cheeks rubbing unpleasantly together under Miss Haverforth’s skirt.
The smile evaporated when she heard the stern voice of her employer Andrea Mahoney, who the girl regularly called Aunty Andrea, say, “Kim, may I see you in my parlour please? Grace Nielsen showed me something very interesting.”
It wasn’t so much what Andrea had said, it was the tone and the mention of Grace Neilsen. Ms Neilsen was a new client. Kimberley had babysat her delinquent son; Trent, not all that long ago and she had made a rather foolish decision at the end of that engagement. Andrea’s mention of the woman, who had been over the chestnut haired disciplinarian’s lap earlier that afternoon, could mean that Kimberley’s chickens were coming home to roost.
“Ummmm…its nearly five ma’am,” Kimberley said, flustered and fussing with her immaculate mane of honey blonde hair as she did so, which she was prone to do when nervous. “Mum’s gone home, do you want me to close a little early?”
Andrea’s green eyes looked Kimberley up and down as she tried to decide what to say. She settled on. “Yes, Kimmy,” making the teenager blush as she used the childish diminutive of her name. “I think closing for the day would be a good idea. I’d also like a cup of coffee, do you think you could arrange that when you come in?”
“Yes, Miss Andrea,” the girl replied respectfully as she shut down her computer, and put her work things away in their desk drawers.
As Kimberley made coffee for her employer her mind worked overtime. She and Andrea regularly had performance reviews, although they were generally quite informal. The two would take tea in Andrea’s parlour after work and chat about things. Sometimes it was afternoon tea with cakes outside in reception, which Kimberley’s mother; Gabrielle, also attended in her capacity as the Spank Shop’s part time employee. This however did not sound like that. There had been an edge in Aunty’s voice this time. It was an edge that she generally honed by smacking someone’s bottom.
As a junior employee of Clarkstown’s Spank Shop…in fact Kimberley didn’t know why she or anyone else called it Clarkstown’s Spank Shop, she was almost entirely certain it was one of a kind, although she did fantasise about opening a franchise elsewhere one day, Kimberley had a rather unique job description. Like most young office workers she made coffee, organized appointments and did bookwork, however unlike many of them, Kimberley also dispensed spankings.
The girl did not spank as often as Andrea or Gabrielle, but then they were both older and more experienced and that was largely their job descriptions. Kimberley’s official title was receptionist, although she preferred office administrator of even executive assistant, and she often signed email correspondence on behalf of Andrea that way. Just recently she had been permitted to stretch her spanking wings a little and administer discipline to a twenty-two year old by the name of Misty Kendall. According to the girl’s mother, and Misty herself, she had done an extremely impressive job. Buoyed by her first official adult spanking, prior to that she had largely dealt with younger clients, Kimberley had started to refer to herself as a Discipline Consultant and even had some business cards printed out. She had given one to Grace Neilsen not all that long ago. Just a few days ago she had begun to regret the action, and uppermost in her mind was what would Aunty’s reaction be when she found out about it?
Kimberley carried the steaming mug through to Andrea and set it gently on the table beside the woman’s chair. “Thanks, Kim,” Andrea said, picking up the mug, blowing on it gently to cool it and then taking an experimental sip. “Lovely,” she sighed, offering, “Take a seat please Kimmy.”
Kimberley sat gingerly on the edge of one of the room’s two couches and looked around herself. The Igniter was sitting on the arm of the other couch. Aunty must have used that on Wendy. The only thing that produced screams that were louder than the wicked strap Andrea had christened The Igniter, was the cane, and that was still sitting on the caning horse in a dark corner. Kimberley shuddered as she looked at the short thick strap and remembered her own encounter with it.
The eighteen-year old’s attention was drawn by the single item on the coffee table, it was a business card, a plain white business card with simple black lettering on it.
“You’re no doubt wondering why you’re here Kimberley Susan,” Andrea said in her soft cultured drawl.
Kimberley suppressed a wince. Andrea had called her Kimberley Susan. That was not a good sign. She generally only did that when the girl was in trouble.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kimberley whispered, feeling more and more on edge with every passing second.
“Do you see the card on the table?” Andrea asked, sipping her coffee.
“Pick it up please.”
Kimberley leaned forward and picked up the card in shaking fingers. She looked at it and swallowed hard. It was the same one she had presented Grace Neilsen with.
“It’s one of ours,” Kimberley said in as innocent a tone as she could, and tried to will the uncomfortable tingling in her hindquarters to go away.
“Is it?” Andrea asked, putting mild surprise in her voice.
“It’s got our name and number on it, ma’am,” Kimberley said in a faltering voice.
“I did note that, Kimberley Susan. It was what was on the bottom under my name and the shop’s number that interested me. I don’t recall seeing that before. Could you read it out please, young lady?”
Kimberley took a deep breath and stammered out, “Kkimberley Kkennedy.”
“Go on,” Andrea encouraged her.
“It’s got a telephone number.”
“That’s your cell phone number is it not, Kim?”
“Yes ma’am,” the girl admitted, her cheeks catching fire.
“Read the rest,” Andrea ordered.
Kimberley hung her head and whispered, “Discipline Consultant.”
“I didn’t quite hear that, my girl.”
Kimberley repeated the title louder, and Andrea exclaimed “Yes, that was it!”
Kimberley blinked rapidly to try and hold back tears.
“I don’t recall giving you a promotion, young woman,” Andrea continued, sipping her coffee. “Your title is receptionist. I will also accept office administrator and even assistant. You are not a discipline consultant. I don’t even know what that is!”
The tears started to spill from Kimberley’s sky blue eyes.
“Oh, I’d keep those if I were you, Kimberley Susan,” Andrea said sternly. “You’re definitely going to need them later. Is the card you gave to Ms Nielsen the only one?”
“No, ma’am,” Kimberley breathed.
“How many, Kim?” Andrea sighed.
“I think…I…a hundred.”
Andrea’s eyebrows climbed into her hair. “A hundred! What on earth possessed you, Kimberley Susan?”
“I…uuuhhh…I…ddon’t know, ma’am,” the girl cried.
“Have you given them all out?”
“No, Miss Andrea. Only about twenty.”
Andrea set her mug down on the table with a firm click and looked very carefully at her young assistant. “Look at me, Kimberley Susan,” she ordered in a level voice.
Kimberley tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her and met Andrea’s gaze.
“Who, aside from Ms Neilsen did you give these cards to?”
“Mrs Kendall and Roger’s mother. I gave them to the Waynwright twins, but I don’t know if they ever reached Mrs Waynwright. Mrs Harper got one, after all she has triplets, and…”
Andrea rested her forehead in one hand and waved at the girl to stop. “Yes, Kim. I get the picture. You are going to call every single person you gave one of those cards to and apologise. You will also ask them to return the card and I will personally ensure that the remaining ones are destroyed. Do you understand me, young lady?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kimberley nodded. She was dreading have to make those phone calls and apologies.
“I do have to ask why, Kimberley?”
The girl thought about the question and tried to recall her thought processes. “It was after I spanked Misty. Mrs Kendall said I did such a good job and Mum was so proud of me and I spank Roger every time now, so I just thought…”
“Precisely what you did not do was think,” Andrea cut the girl off sharply. “Kimberley, I understand that you have ambitions, and I think it’s wonderful, sweetheart, but you need to understand that you are only eighteen years old. You have a lot of living to do and a lot of experience to have. This unfortunately is one of them.”
“Yes, Aunty,” Kimberley replied demurely, dropping her eyes to the hands clasped in her lap.
“That’s one thing dealt with,” Andrea said firmly, picking up her mug again and taking another sip.
“One thing?” Kimberley asked, her brow furrowing.
“There’s also how you treated Wendy.”
“She was sent here for a spanking, ma’am!” Kimberley protested.
“I am aware of that, Kimberley. I administered it. You weren’t just stern with her, Kim. You were downright rude. There’s a line and you crossed it. She’s not the first client I’ve seen you bully like that, either.”
The girl’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Oh close your mouth, Kimberley Susan!” Andrea snapped. “The flies will get in.”
Kimberley’s mouth snapped shut and her cheeks coloured with the childish rebuke.
“It’s not easy for someone like Wendy to have to report to me for her first ever spanking at the age of twenty two. Being treated like a five year old and snapped at by someone four years younger than her doesn’t make it any easier. People do come here to be spanked, Kimberley. They do not have to put up with abuse, though. Not all of our clients are sent here, either. Many of them come here of their own volition. It is going to stop, do you hear me, young lady?”
Kimberley swallowed hard and said softly, “Yes, ma’am.”
Andrea’s eyes softened a little. The girl was genuinely upset, and although they were not related she did regard Kimberley as a little sister or even a favourite niece. “What is it, Kim?” she asked gently. “You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all week.”
Kimberley’s tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and she started to answer, “I felt really guilty about the cards, Aunty. Evan’s been working so hard in his new job that we hardly see each other and when we do he’s always tired and doesn’t want to go anywhere. We’ve been busy here and I get all stressed…” her voice faltered and she started to cry. Kimberley sat on the couch, with her face in her hands and sobbed.
“Oh darling,” Andrea said, she rose from her chair, sat beside the girl, put an arm around her shaking shoulders and drew her to her bosom. “That’s it, sweetness. Cry it all out on Aunty’s shoulder.”
When she judged Kimberley had finished crying, she let the girl up and held her at arm’s length. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed and her make up had run. “Feel better?” Andrea asked.
Kimberley nodded her golden head.
“A good cry can do wonders,” Andrea said.
Kimberley gulped and nodded again.
“However we still have matters to deal with, sweetheart, don’t we?”
“You go to the bathroom and clean up, change into your apron and come back out here.”
Kimberley felt her stomach drop. “The apron, ma’am? It’s so embarrassing!”
Andrea nodded. “That is part of the reason I make people wear them, Kimberley. You didn’t seem too concerned for Wendy’s intense humiliation earlier today.”
“You can count yourself lucky, my girl, that I don’t make you call Wendy and beg her forgiveness for how you behaved towards her.”
Kimberley’s cheeks flared bright red and she could feel how hot they were. Her eyes opened wide in shock. “Please no, Aunty! I couldn’t do that.”
“You could and you would if I told you to, Kimberley Susan. Fortunately for that pride of yours I think we can handle the matter in house.”
Kimberley knew what was going to happen. She was going to be spanked good and hard over Andrea’s lap. While she knew it would hurt and probably also be highly embarrassing, part of her welcomed it. She had been burdened by guilt over the business cards and she had also been irritable and grumpy for a number of reasons. Her mother had always been of the opinion that a good spanking cleared the air and left both spanker and spankee feeling refreshed and cleansed. The girl had seen it happen with her younger sister; Chelsea. The sixteen year-old would start getting annoyed by little things and snap at people, and before long Gabrielle Kennedy found a reason to spank her daughter and after Chelsea’s bottom had cooled down she was as nice as pie. The same thing had happened with Kimberley during her earlier teens and now that she was eighteen and a legal adult it didn’t anymore and she kind of missed it.
The girl looked into the mirror at her ruined face and her red puffy eyes and grimaced. She sighed and set about scrubbing her face free of make up. She also pulled her crowning glory; the masses of obsessively cared for blonde hair, back from her face and tied it in a ponytail. No sense in making a mess of it, and she knew from experience that she would do just that. No one got off Aunty Andrea’s lap without a teary face and a snotty nose, she would probably drool too, it was hard not to once Andrea built a head of steam up over one’s bottom.
The blonde ponytail swung from side to side as Kimberley shook her head in dismay at the apron she had to wear. Nearly every time Andrea spanked her she had to put on this stupid apron. The girl pouted. The spanking aprons had been Andrea’s idea and they were a brilliant one. They were initially something to preserve modesty when people of opposite genders were being spanked together. The idea had expanded since then and they were probably used for ninety percent of the spankings administered at the Spank Shop. There was an entire wardrobe full of them in various sizes to accommodate the differences in both age and physical sizes of the clients.
The aprons were Kimberley’s domain these days. It was often her job to match a client with an apron, it was something she enjoyed and comments from Andrea, Gabrielle and the parents of clients said that she did it very successfully. Of all the aprons they had in the closet where they were kept two were special. They were only ever worn by two people. One was a white apron with a large red cross on it, similar to a nurse’s uniform. That one got used every Friday morning when a pretty young nurse by the name of Tiffany presented herself for her weekly spanking over Andrea’s lap.
The second apron was used with less regularity. It belonged to Kimberley. It was a plain white apron, but it had embroidered on it in cursive red script the words: ‘Kimberley’s very own spanking apron’. One of the receptionist’s hobbies was embroidery. Andrea had made her do the stitching on the apron. It made her feel about six years old every time she looked it and put it on. As she slipped the garment on over her body she reflected that was probably Andrea’s intention.
Andrea sat back and a smile spread across her generous lips as a bare-footed Kimberley padded into the room, dressed in her special apron. “Kimberley’s very own spanking apron,” Andrea read as the girl stood in front of her and blushed. It was a full body blush. Andrea could see the flush in Kimberley’s neck disappearing down below the apron.
“You look so sweet Kimberley Susan, almost good enough to eat.”
The blush intensified and the girl shifted from foot to foot.
“Do you need to go potty, little one?” Andrea asked her.
Kimberley shook her head and murmured, “No ma’am. I went before.”
“Then why are you jiggling?”
“I don’t know, Aunty. Just nervous I guess.”
“Oh what is there to be nervous about sweetheart? My lap and your bottom are old friends. We’ll soon get you reacquainted with your other good friends Mrs Palm and her five daughters.”
Kimberley closed her eyes and shivered. She could almost hear Andrea’s hard, experienced palm cracking down over her pert tender buttocks and feel the warmth and sting of the slaps.
“Turn around,” Andrea ordered gently, “and I’ll just do you up, sweetness.”
Kimberley sighed as she felt Andrea’s long nimble fingers fastening the apron strings in the back of the garment. “Beautiful,” Andrea announced happily, giving the girl’s bottom a firm swat, which made her jump. “Turn around and face me again, Kimberley Susan.”
Andrea looked the girl up and down. She was truly an adorable child. If she weren’t quite so short she would have made a top-notch fashion model. Even Andrea’s friend Joelle, who worked in the fashion industry had remarked on the girl’s physical attractiveness and said sadly in her own native French, ‘Mais elle est si courte.’ The hairdressing salon next door to the shop had used the girl as a model, due to her lustrous blonde locks.
“You know what to do know, darling,” Andrea prompted.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kimberley replied. She took a deep breath and said, “I know I was very naughty by handing out cards with false and misleading information and I was rude to Wendy and other clients. I am very sorry, Miss Andrea. Could you please spank me good and hard?”
“That’s a very pretty little speech, Kimberley Susan. I would be only too happy to oblige with two of the hottest reddest little cheeks that I can possibly produce. Lay yourself over Aunty’s lap and we’ll get started, sweetheart.”
Kimberley looked down at the impeccably dressed lap in the middle of the couch and gracefully draped herself over it. She even positioned herself so that her bottom was in the middle of Andrea’s lap and moved her own legs up onto the couch.
As Andrea prepared herself to deliver a memorable bottom blistering to her young receptionist, she contrasted how Kimberley; a veteran of many a spanking, and her most recent client; Wendy Haverforth, a novice when it came to having her bottom smacked, had dealt with this. Wendy had required Andrea’s help to get into position and had no idea of what was expected. Kimberley, despite a few tears, that Andrea suspected were more nerves and her being upset that she had disappointed her employer and friend, had gotten over the lap without any additional assistance and had even put herself in perfect position as she waited for her spanking to commence.
The girl really did have a pretty backside. It was firm and round and pert. At present it was also a perfect alabaster white. Her legs showed evidence of a fading tan, and contrasted quite becomingly with the porcelain skin of her pretty little rear end.
Andrea’s hand glided across the smooth tender skin of Kimberley’s perfectly presented posterior and she watched the girl shiver and tremble a little, because she knew what was coming. Andrea squeezed each buttock gently and then gave them a fond slap, which made Kimberley twitch.
Kimberley tried to relax after those light swats. The girl had been in this position often enough to know that signaled the beginning of the spanking. As Andrea’s firm and experienced hand began to light little spot fires all over her bottom, Kimberley did her best to endure it stoically. She deserved this, she had earned it and some part of her even welcomed it, although if she knew Andrea it was going to get a whole lot worse for her backside in the very near future. The hand spanking was purely a warm up to get her bum ready and put Andrea in the mood to really blister her heinie good and proper.
Andrea smacked hard and slow, being careful to cover the entire surface of Kimberley’s rapidly pinkening rump. Kimberley squirmed a little, but took the chastisement with a minimum of fuss, occasionally grunting or gasping at a particularly stinging slap, and letting out a few ‘oohhhs’ or ‘ouches’, but it was in stark contrast to the last two occupants of Andrea’s lap in Wendy and the mature Grace Neilsen who had made quite a fuss over what Andrea termed ‘a childish smackbottom’.
The bottom had taken on a lovely rosy hue and Andrea could feel the heat beginning to rise up from it. It was time to move onto the thighs and see if that could open up Miss Kimberley’s lungs.
Kimberley rubbed her legs together and tried to concentrate on the not entirely unpleasurable warmth that Andrea’s palm had put into her bottom, rather than the sting when she landed a more forceful blow or attacked a previously unwarmed area. That was when her thighs got done.
“Owwww! Owwwww! Owwww! That hurts, Aunteeee!” Kimberley squealed and kicked her legs to alleviate the fiery sting.
“That is the idea, young lady,” Andrea informed the girl over her lap. “This is a spanking, not a massage.”
“I, OUCH, know, EEEK, that, OOOOWWWW, ma’am!” Kimberley screeched her reply as Andrea let loose a volley on her sit spots.
“Open your legs, please Kimberley Susan.”
Kimberley took a deep breath and tried to get herself ready for what was coming. She should have known Andrea would do her inside thighs. She prided herself on a job well done, and she believed that included a set of thoroughly scalded inner thighs. They were so tender and not often seen and so therefore not everyone thought to slap them.
Obediently Kimberley’s legs opened wide so Andrea could get to her creamy inner thighs. Andrea smiled. Between Gabrielle: Kimberley’s formidable mother, and herself, they had trained the girl well. Not a word of protest, just a simple doing as she was instructed. Very few of Andrea’s clients, even the most regular ones, did so well.
Kimberley threw her head back, howled and kicked her legs wildly as Andrea roasted her inside thighs. “Oh God that hurtssss, ma’am!” she bellowed.
“Good,” Andrea said, raising her voice to be heard over the ringing slaps and the girl’s yells. “Maybe you will think before you get ideas about falsely representing yourself and being rude to clients.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kimberley sobbed as her left leg had another sizzling set of slaps unleashed on it.
“Nicely pink,” Andrea said to herself happily, examining the girl’s thighs. “Some fresh tears too, always good to see.”
Andrea picked a tissue from a nearby holder and used it to dab at her perspiring forehead and wipe her upper chest and neck. Although Kimberley was quite biddable and took her hidings with considerably more grace and less fuss than others, she was still a fit young woman and it took some physical effort on Andrea’s part to administer a proper spanking.
“You may get up now, Kimberley,” Andrea told the quietly crying blonde over her lap.
“Thank you ma’am,” Kimberley murmured and maneuvered herself upright. Her hands flew to her bottom, and were just stopped from rubbing by Andrea’s words.
“Uh uh, has Aunty given permission?”
“Then get those hands away from that simmering little botty of yours or you may have to take another trip over Aunty’s lap right now for some more cooking. You don’t want that, do you, Kimberley Susan?”
“No, Aunty Andrea.”
“No, you do not.”
Kimberley grit her teeth and closed her hands into fists. She desperately wanted to rub her hot bottom and try to damp down some of the flames that were raging through it.
“Kim, you may rub as you walk yourself to the corner,” Andrea permitted. “Once there, remove your hands from your bottom and place them on your head.”
Kimberley nodded and Andrea smiled as she watched the girl mince her way to the corner of the room. She got glimpses of the rosy red cheeks through the girl’s fingers as she vainly tried to put out the fires Andrea’s hand had expertly lit and stoked.
“Is your nose on the wall, Kimberley?” Andrea asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” was the slightly muffled reply from the corner.
“Let’s ensure it remains that way, shall we?”
Kimberley saw Andrea’s hand dangling a scarlet ribbon with a bell hanging off the end of it. She suppressed a groan. She had really liked the idea of the ribbon when Andrea first suggested it. It was an excellent way of ensuring that someone being displayed in the corner kept their nose on the wall. A coin worked as well, but you had to have one on hand and they could get all snotty, too. The ribbon could be easily replaced. When the idea had been adopted Kimberley had never dreamt that it would be used on her. With a sigh she let Andrea put the ribbon on the wall and pressed her nose to it.
“Don’t let it drop, sweetheart,” Andrea warned as she relaxed on the couch, with a birds eye view of her assistant’s freshly roasted cheeks.
After what seemed like forever Kimberley heard Andrea’s voice say, “You may come out of the corner, darling.”
Kimberley removed her nose, which was becoming numb from trying to make sure the belled ribbon didn’t drop, from the wall and caught the bell in her hand. She carried it over to Andrea, seated with one leg crossed over the other, on the couch. The chestnut haired disciplinarian accepted the scarlet piece of material with a mild. “Thank you dear. How does your situpon feel now?”
“A little cooler, ma’am,” Kimberley answered politely.
“We’ll have get it nice and hot again, won’t we?” Andrea inquired rhetorically.
Kimberley suppressed a groan, she knew that it wouldn’t be over with a simple hand spanking, but she had hoped that she would get lucky.
“Can you go out into reception, sweetheart,” Andrea began.
“Reception?” Kimberley asked, her eyes showing her surprise.
Andrea frowned. “I do not remember asking for your input, Kimberley Susan. Yes, I said reception. You will remove your hairbrush from your drawer and bring it in here.”
Kimberley’s blue eyes snapped open. Aunty Andrea wanted her to bring her cherry wood hairbrush into the parlour. There could only be one reason for that. She wanted to spank the girl with it. Andrea wanted to spank Kimberley with her own hairbrush! Kimberley started to cry and begged, “Please Aunty, not my brush. Can’t you just use your ebony brush or the Spencer paddle or the lexan or anything, but not my own brush!”
“Oh for goodness sake, Kimberley!” Andrea snapped, her jade eyes flashing. “You’re behaving like a six year old! Begging is not a very attractive trait. Yes, I am going to give you a hairbrush spanking and I am going to use your brush, maybe that will teach you not to take your position in this shop for granted or to put on airs and graces, young lady. Go and get the brush, immediately!”
A sobbing Kimberley was given a hearty smack on her still tender, pink bottom to send her on her way.
Kimberley’s hands shook as she opened the drawer. She gazed down on her cherry wood hairbrush and a single tear fell from her eye and splashed across the brushes polished back. She had never actually been spanked with the brush. She had tested it out on her hand and it stung. She knew from the reactions of those that she used it on over her knee that it didn’t just sting hands, it stung bottoms, too.
The three Spank Shop spankers (she still counted herself as one, despite the unpleasantness with the ill advised business card) had their own ‘signature’ brushes.
Andrea’s was the famed and feared ebony, Gabrielle had her trusty old heirloom mahogany brush and Kimberley had her cherry wood.
She had purchased the brush because she liked the look and the weight. It felt right in her hand, almost like an extension of the limb. Then there was the name: cherry wood. It painted visions of brightly glowing cherry red bottoms. The salesperson, who was all too aware of what purpose Kimberley intended for the brush had cheerfully remarked that it would soon be hated by children all over town. In fact that lady’s daughter had been one of the brushes very first recipients and tearfully reported to her beaming mother that it was a very good hairbrush.
Now it was going to be used on her bottom. Kimberley could feel the familiar tingle in her backside as she carefully carried the brush back into the parlour.
Andrea took the brush from the girl’s shaking hands and turned it over it in her own long slender fingers. It was an excellent item. Kimberley had chosen well.
In time Gabrielle may choose to pass her own mahogany brush to one of her daughters as her mother had with her. Andrea believed Kim would hang onto the cherry wood model, she seemed to have bonded with it. Her younger sister Chelsea may be the recipient of Mrs Mahogany as Gabrielle sometimes referred to her ‘weapon of choice’. Andrea weighed the brush, it had a nice weight to it and the patina of the wood was also pleasant on the eye. This one would hurt when applied to an errant behind, something Miss Kennedy was about to discover.
Andrea patted her lap. “Come, little Miss Discipline Consultant, over you get.”
Kimberley winced at hearing the pretentious title she had awarded herself being used in such a sarcastic manner. There were times when she really was a silly little girl who needed her bottom soundly spanked.
The adolescent stretched her petite form over the willowy disciplinarian’s lap and wriggled until she felt she had her bottom where Andrea wanted it.
“Hang on tight, little girl,” Andrea advised. “Aunty is really going to make this sting.”
Andrea was true to her word. Even as the veteran of many a session over the laps of Gabrielle and Andrea, Kimberley had to admit this brushing was one of the most memorable she could ever recall experiencing.
The back of the highly varnished brush first visited fire all over Kimberley’s frantically pumping rear, paying special attention to the crowns which were glowing hotly and radiating waves of heat by the time Andrea decided that her employee’s sit spots needed a going over. All of Kimberley’s earlier resolve vanished as Andrea peppered the lower curves of her buttocks with the brush. The girl kicked her legs wildly, rolled her bottom from side to side, crossed and uncrossed her ankles madly, and wailed out her displeasure in incoherent pleas of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’ll never do it again’, as both her eyes and nose ran unchecked.
That display was nothing to when Andrea gave Kimberley’s upper thighs the same treatment. Andrea had to tighten the arm around the girl’s waist to hold her over the lap as she methodically roasted one tender thigh and then the other. Kimberley was close to hysterical when a panting Andrea decided that she had learned her lesson and set the brush aside.
Kimberley lay limply over Andrea’s lap and blubbered. Andrea used some tissues to wipe herself off. Kimberley was quite a strong girl for her size and holding her down while administering a blistering was a real workout. No wonder Gabrielle had never had to join a gym to keep herself in trim. Spanking Kimberley and her sisters and brother she got all the physical exercise anyone would ever need.
Andrea gave Kimberley’s angrily glowing seat a brisk rub and the girl hiccupped, “Thank you, Aunty Andrea.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
Andrea fondled the adolescent hot and very sore cheeks to soothe them a little, and give Kimberley time to recover her composure a little. “May I have a tissue please, Aunty?” Kimberley asked.
Andrea handed some down to her and heard the girl cleaning up her face after blowing her nose noisily.
“Is that better, darling?” Andrea asked solicitously.
“Do you think you can get up now, dear?”
Kimberley nodded and managed to get herself upright. She stood in front of her employer and her hands hovered over her scorched situpon. “Oh go on,” Andrea gave her permission.
“Oh thank God!” Kimberley breathed as her hands began to vigorously massaging her aching rear, she didn’t care that she looked a spectacle as she hopped around the room desperately trying to rub away some of the heat and sting that Andrea had installed into her bottom.
“When you have quite finished Kimberley Susan, we’re not done her yet, young lady.”
Kimberley’s face fell and she turned to Andrea, her hands still over her burning backside. “We’re not ma’am?”
“Oh no, little miss, we are not. You know where my Board of Education is, don’t you? The one Sharon and the kids from Clarkstown High gave me for my birthday?”
Kimberley’s eyes went automatically to the imposing wooden cupboard on one wall of Andrea’s parlour. Her ‘war chest’, or as some referred to it ‘chamber of horrors’. Most of the highly efficient professional disciplinarians ‘tools of the trade’ resided within that cupboard, behind its polished wooden doors.
“It’s in the cupboard, ma’am,” Kimberley said in a quavering voice.
“Please fetch it for me.”
“Oh please ma’am. Please don’t. I’ll be good. I promise. Please don’t paddle me,” Kimberley begged, starting to cry again.
Andrea sat back in her seat and sighed, “We have had this conversation once about the hairbrush, Kimberley. I do not wish to have it again. I will not have you beg! Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kimberley said, bowing her head.
“Now retrieve the Board of Education from the cupboard and bring it here or you can go and cut a switch outside.”
Kimberley gasped and hastened to the ‘war chest’. Cutting switches with clients was a task that was often delegated to Kimberley. She had a knack for finding the whippiest green switches that Andrea had growing in her impressive garden. She was also very good at preparing them. Andrea was even prepared to concede that Gabrielle Kennedy had more skill with the switch than she herself did. Gabrielle admitted that it was a common punishment for her growing up. She didn’t switch her offspring as often as she herself was, but she did use them at times. Kimberley loathed the switch. Even more humiliating was having to go and cut and prepare your own switch, knowing that it would soon be striping your bent over rear end with lines of pure fire.
Kimberley opened the cupboard and peered into its dim depths. She could see canes and straps, wooden spoons, rulers, slippers and paddles. Lots of paddles. From small ones made of lexan and wood, some solid, some with holes, to larger ones made out of leather. At the back were the sorority paddle and the Board of Education. There was another Board of Education somewhere in the shop. Kimberley had the feeling her mother had been using it earlier in the day. This particular one had been signed by students of Clarkstown High, varnished and then presented as a present to Andrea at her last birthday. A few of the students who had put their names on it had felt it since and possibly regretted their choice of gift.
The eighteen-year-old didn’t have a great experience with paddles of this sort. She had certainly been paddled before and after starting work at the Spank Shop, but not often with a Board of Education style paddle. Paddling had been long outlawed at her school by the time she attended and while Principal Sharon Cartwright may have wanted to put her students under the paddle she was not allowed to legally. As a consequence Kimberley had not encountered an old- fashioned school paddle until she commenced employment at the Spank Shop and Andrea managed to acquire one. She had paddled Kimberley with it, but it was just to give her an idea of what it felt like. It had only been six swats on a fully clothed rear and only one of them had been anything like full force. It just left her with a nice glow.
On the other hand Kimberley had heard the reactions of recipients to a genuine paddling and she’d seen their bottoms afterwards. She had not been spanked and brushed the time Andrea had ‘play paddled’ her either. She had the feeling that this encounter was going to leave her with far more than a ‘nice glow’.
As Kimberley removed the paddle carefully from the cupboard she felt it’s weight, and wondered at exactly how much swats from it were going to hurt. She handed it to Andrea, who took it with a smile and thanks, and tested the weight herself. “You’ve never actually felt one of these swung in anger, have you, Kimmy?”
“No, ma’am,” the girl said with a blush. “They weren’t allowed to use them when I got to school.”
“Ahhh more is the pity,” Andrea said standing up, paddle in hand. “Then again maybe we’d do less business if they were. Assume the position, please, Kimberley Susan.”
Kimberley looked at the strips of tape Andrea had fixed to the floor in front of her desk and with a frown realized that she couldn’t actually stand on them and still touch the desk. She would need to be an inch or two taller. She sighed, shuffled forward, bent from the waist and rested her elbows on Andrea’s big wooden desk.
“Lovely,” Andrea breathed. “Nice form Kimberley, straighten your legs out a little sweetie. Bottom up nice and high, good girl.”
As Kimberley stood there, her glowing red bottom pushed up in the air she was grateful that the shop was closed and therefore no one else could see her, but she also remembered that she had often walked in on an in progress paddling and treated herself to a good eyeful of some other poor unfortunate in this exact same position. She was rethinking that right now.
Kimberley’s eyes snapped open wide and she gasped. Oh that thing really hurt and on top of a soundly spanked and hairbrushed bottom it was something quite special. “One, thank you ma’am!” she got out from between gritted teeth.
“Excellent, Kimberley!” Andrea congratulated her. “You counted and thanked me without being asked. Good girl!”
The bare feet did a little involuntarily dance and after a loud ‘Owwww!’ Kimberley said loudly, “Two, thank you ma’am!”
Andrea waited for Kimberley to put herself back into position before she lined up the bright scarlet posterior and swung the paddle again.
“Oh God!” Kimberley howled and almost broke position, then counted. “Three, thank you, ma’am!”
The girl did a little butt wave to try and ease her aching hindquarters and cool the furnace that Andrea was stoking up again with the paddle.
“Owwwww! Aunteeee! Fuhfour, thank you ma’am!”
The tears squeezed out from Kimberley’s tightly closed eyelids and she sniffled before sobbing, “Fuhfive, ththank you, muhmiss!”
Andrea smiled. She was getting the reaction she wanted now.
That stroke was full armed and lifted Kimberley onto the tops of her toes.
“I’m sorreee Aunteeee! Suhsix, thank you!”
“Are we going to tell people we’re something we’re not, young lady?”
“Noooooo, ma’am! Suhsuhseven, thank you!”
Kimberley briefly collapsed over the desk, her face awash with tears, saliva and snot, she remembered where she was and levered herself upright, resting all her weight on her elbows and forearms and wondering if her bottom was ever going to stop burning.
That one was the hardest yet. Kimberley screamed, and Andrea asked, “Are we going to be rude to our clients, miss?”
“Nununooo Aunty!” Kimberley blubbered and then remembered to count in a shaking voice, “Eight, thank you, Aunty!”
Andrea laid the paddle on the desk where Kimberley could see it through tear blurred eyes, and said, “You’re cooked, sweetheart. I’ll give you a moment or two to yourself, and you can join me on the couch for some comfort and refreshment when you’re ready.”
Comfort was laying over Andrea’s towel covered lap while she gently cooled the girl’s bottom with water and cotton balls, then patted it dry and soothed it with lotion, washed it with water and then removed the excess grease, dried it and sprinkled talc all over it. “You look like sugar dusted strawberries, darling,” Andrea told her young employee. “If I had some cream and a spoon I think I could just about eat you up.”
Kimberley giggled through her tears.
Refreshment was a mug of steaming hot cocoa with marshmallows drunk while she snuggled in Andrea’s lap and talked. “You know I don’t really like having to take you to task like that, Kimmy, sweetness?”
“Yes, ma’am. I do,” Kimberley answered, sipping her cocoa.
“I had thought you may have learned your lesson about pretending to be what you’re not after the Longwood Twins incident.”
Kimberley winced as Andrea recalled that afternoon. The shop’s proprietress had gone away for the weekend and Kimberley had represented herself as the shop’s owner and spanked Vivian Longwood’s twin offspring. Andrea had been furious when she uncovered the deception and Kimberley had endured a hot and uncomfortable afternoon.
“I’m sorry ma’am.”
“I do hope we won’t see another incident like this, Kim. If there is it’s going to need to be the cane or dismissal.”
Kimberley started to cry again as she faced Andrea. “Oh no, Aunty! I won’t do it again, I promise!”
“All right, Kimmy,” Andrea reassured the teenager. “We won’t speak of it again. How do you feel now?”
“Sore,” Kimberley answered with a wry grin and rub of her pert paddled posterior. “And clean inside. I think I needed the spanking.”
“Sometimes we do, darling. Kimmy, if you ever feel like that again, sweetheart. Just come to me. I will be only too happy to give you a good, old fashioned, bare bottom spanking over a loving lap.”
Kimberley broke out into a beaming smile and kissed Andrea’s cheek. “I love you, Aunty Andrea.”