Thursday, 18 July 2013

May I have this dance?

Hello to you all! This is a slightly sad post, because it will be the last time I see you all until late in August. However it is bittersweet as while I will miss you all terribly I will also be having a wonderful relaxing holiday.

Sadly, I haven't received any SotM nominations for our final lucky lady. Hopefully some will be in my inbox when I return ( and once we have that woman posted we can vote for the inaugural winner. I will reiterate that the winner will be featured in a story written by yours truly visiting The Spank Shop to collect her reward.

Kimberley, Gabrielle and I will leave you with a plethora of images featuring one of our favourite moments in any truly memorable spanking: the dance.

Hugs, kisses and spanks until late August.
Andrea, Gabrielle and Kimberley.
XXX     XXX            XXX

P.S: be good,and if you can't be good, be careful!

Tuesday, 16 July 2013

'Game, Set and Match!'

The time to close up the shop while we're enjoying well earned vacation is drawing near, but I still have time for a post from Seegee. I'm assuming Wimbledon is what inspired this tennis themed story. Please enjoy.

A busy local club, not unlike the one where Shane Dennison learned his game.

Amanda 'Mandy' Charlston in her playing days.

A picture of the overleg lock technique when applying the hairbrush to an errant pair of cheeks.

“Game, Set and Match, Mr Dennison!” the chair umpire announced.

The packed crowd broke into wild cheering and the tall young man in the middle of the blue plexipave court fell to his knees, dropped his racquet and stayed there for a few moments, his chest heaving with emotional sobs. At length his opponent went to his conqueror and put a gentle hand on a polo shirted shoulder. The blonde rose and embraced the other player before turning to the crowd, tears of joy still shining in his brilliant blue eyes, and raised a hand in victory.

One member of that crowd, a slim blonde lady in her mid thirties watched the scene with a smile on her face and remembered the first time she had seen tears shining in those sky coloured eyes.


“Code violation Mr Dennison. Point deducted,” the chair umpire said emotionlessly.

The blonde boy stared at the older man seated in the elevated chair. “What?” he screamed. “Are you blind? The frigging ball was out!”

“Do you want to forfeit the match?” the umpire asked calmly.

“No,” the boy spat.

“Then settle down and play tennis. Love forty.”


Shane Dennison’s coach watched in horror as her star fourteen-year old player imploded on court. She was at a total loss to know what to say or do. Shane was a lovely boy and he never normally swore or lost it with umpires or lines people, but something had gone seriously wrong with this match. A dubious foot fault had set him off, after that he had served faults, missed easy put aways and volleys and totally forgot their carefully worked out game plan. It all led to an on court meltdown and the ugly confrontation with the umpire.


Amanda ‘Mandy’ Charlston was silent on the drive from the tournament back to their local club. Shane sat next to her and fumed.

“What exactly was that about, Shane?” the blonde demanded once they were in the deserted clubrooms.

“I dunno, Mandy. The foot fault wasn’t there,” the boy mumbled, still holding back tears.

“That’s Miss Charlston, young man!” the green-eyed girl snapped, her eyes flashing. “You don’t normally do this and we’ve spoken about your foot faults before.”

“I don’t care,” Shane muttered, the tears starting again. “Tennis sucks. They can all get stuffed!”

Mandy rolled her eyes and sighed. She supposed she’d thrown a few tantrums in her own teenage playing days, but this was one of the worst she could remember personally witnessing. Maybe it was his age. Fourteen could be a difficult time for boys. “Shane, you don’t mean that, so stop talking nonsense. Maybe I should spank you and make you stand in a corner of the court. If you want to behave like a six year old you can be treated like one.”

The pretty tennis coach regretted the words as soon as she had uttered them and the young man turned shocked eyes on her.

“Come on, let’s get you home. We can discuss this tomorrow. I’ll have a tape to review at my place.”


Mandy hit the pause button on her DVD player then rewound and forwarded the play in slow motion. She sipped her iced tea and sighed. “I have told him again and again not to play that drop shot. It’s the lowest percentage play in tennis. Looks great when it comes off, but it so often doesn’t.”

Amanda Charlston had been a star junior tennis player. Her tennis obsessed mother had put a racquet in her hands when she was three years old and she’d never looked back. Her mother was her first coach, then it was a former professional at the local club, followed by a teacher at a school she’d won a scholarship to on the strength of her tennis game.

Mandy wasn’t under any illusions even as a child that she needed something special to succeed on the professional tour. For that reason she had gone against her mother’s wishes in applying for and winning an athletic scholarship to a prestigious US college and trading tennis for an education. She studied coaching and graduated with a fall back plan if the professional tennis thing didn’t work out.

Initially it did not look like Mandy needed her academic qualifications, she hit a purple patch and was very quickly on the verge of breaking into the world’s top hundred. She even managed to qualify and win a first round at Wimbledon.

Soon after that high point she had fallen awkwardly at a satellite tournament in the US and wrecked her knee. She sought a number of opinions and they were all the same. Her knee could be repaired and she would be able to lead a normal life after a period of rehabilitation, but none of them could guarantee her that the injury would not recur and they may not be able to repair the damage as successfully if it did. Mandy could do everything but play sport at a professional level.

She reassessed her options and had a lot of time to think while she recovered from her knee reconstruction. She decided to retire from the tour and become a coach. She landed a job at a club not far from home and they had a number of promising juniors. She soon had quite a stable of youngsters. The standout was a tall gangly cheeky eight year-old by the name of Shane Dennison.

Shane was a natural. There was nothing standing in the way of him becoming a top player. The boy was agile and quick, he was smart and if his parents were anything to judge by he was going to keep growing and height was an advantage on the tour. He wouldn’t match it with the likes of some of the monsters that did come around from time to time, but he would finish growing at well over six feet and coupled with his natural athleticism it would make him a handful on court.

He was a nice kid, and the recent meltdown simply wasn’t in character for him. Mandy hoped they could get to the root of it at the match review tomorrow.


“You see that?” Mandy asked her guest as they watched the tape of the previous days match and sipped glasses of icy cold milk. “You were still thinking about that foot fault. He lobbed the ball over your head on the next point and from then on your game just fell apart.”

Shane nibbled on a biscuit and did not say anything initially. His eyes were on the screen, but Mandy could see his mind was miles away. “Did you mean what you said yesterday?”

“I’m sure I said a lot of things yesterday, Shane,” Mandy prompted. “Could you be a little more specific?”

The boy took a deep breath, focused his blue eyes on Mandy’s face and said, “Would you really spank me and stand me in the corner?”

Mandy blinked in shock, she vaguely recalled saying something like that to her student yesterday, but she had said it in the heat of the moment and she was stunned that he had actually remembered it.

“Oh honey,” she said gently. “I was angry. I didn’t mean it. I’d never spank a student for not winning a game, even if it was an important one.”

“Oh okay,” Shane said in a soft voice, and he sounded upset.

Mandy frowned, but tried to divert her attention and Shane’s back to the recording of the game.

They’d reviewed a couple of more plays and Mandy reiterated,  “I will run you ragged next time you play that drop shot, young man. My mother threatened to tie my right hand to my body and make me play with my left if I continued to use the drop shot.”

“If you didn’t mean it, why did you say it?” Shane asked.

“What?” Mandy asked, exasperation creeping into her voice as she pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“The spanking,” the boy clarified.

Mandy closed her eyes and massaged her forehead with her forefinger and thumb. Fourteen-year old boys! She shut the DVD machine down and looked at the young tennis player. “Okay, you’ve obviously got a bee in your bonnet about something and we’re not going to get much done until we get down to it. Talk to me Shane.”

“What happened when you messed up?”

“On the court? As a kid?”

Shane nodded.

Mandy shrugged. “I got shuttle runs, I’ve done that to you and the squad before, you don’t like it from memory. I had to play the same shot over and over until I got it right. It was all tennis related, Shane, it never got taken home and no before you ask I wasn’t spanked.”

“Not even once?” the boy pressed.

“Once. My grandmother did it. At least that’s what I was told. I don’t remember it. I was very young. It wasn’t for tennis, either, it was because I was being a pain. Mum got really mad at her, apparently, and it didn’t happen again. Why this sudden interest?”

“I think I need one,” Shane answered.

“A spanking?”

The boy nodded firmly.

“They’re not fun. They hurt. If you think it’s going to be better than shuttle runs I can tell you right now it won’t be.”

“How do you know? You don’t remember the one you got.”

Mandy rolled her eyes. He did actually have a point. She was operating on second hand knowledge. There was a girl she’d met when she was on the circuit who said that her coach, who was also her mother, did spank her for on court slip- ups. They hurt like hell apparently. It didn’t make the girl a better player, and the last Mandy had heard of the girl she and her mother no longer even spoke.

“Shane, I’m not exactly sure why you have this sudden obsession with spanking. I said a silly thing. Your attitude isn’t great today, either. Why don’t we try this again tomorrow after a hit?”


When Shane had gone home Mandy’s thoughts returned to the conversation. She knew Shane and his parents, as well as his younger sister. He was a little different from most of her students. His parents enjoyed their tennis and that was how she had first spotted him, he was having a hit with his father and even as an eight year old was giving the older man a tough time. Interestingly his sister showed no interest or aptitude for tennis and no one in the family had a problem with that. She preferred swimming apparently. Her own mother would have hit the roof if Mandy had said she didn’t want to play tennis anymore.

Shane spent a lot of time at the club and trained hard. His parents were encouraging and supportive when it came to his tennis, but they couldn’t be described as over the top or emotional about it. They were dream parents to coach the offspring of really. Mandy had wished all the parents of the kids she coached were like the Dennisons on more than one occasion. They also insisted he ensure that his studies and activities outside of tennis received equal attention. To the best of her knowledge they didn’t spank the boy either.


“Do you want to do it?” Mandy’s friend Charmaine asked her as they shared a bowl of microwave popcorn while watching TV that evening.

“Of course I don’t!” Mandy replied hotly, throwing at handful of popcorn at the other girl. “What do you think I am? A pervert?”

“I’ve seen him down at the club, he’s got a cute butt.”

“Ewwww! Charmaine! He’s fourteen years old!”

“Guys hit their sexual peak at seventeen,” the brunette pointed out.

“You’re terrible,” Mandy told her.

“Being serious, though,” the other girl said. “That may be it. People do like spanking. It’s a big kink.”

“I am not about to fuel my fourteen year old student’s sexual kink.”

“It’s not just a sexual thing with some people.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said his parents don’t spank. He may feel like his behaviour really let you down and he doesn’t know how else to make it better. A spanking could clear the air and may even improve him as a player and a person. It doesn’t have to involve sex.”

Mandy frowned. “I don’t know, Charmaine.”

“Give it some thought, Mandy. It could be a good thing for both of you long term.”


To Mandy’s relief the spanking issue didn’t surface again for a fortnight. Shane went back to being the keen and talented individual she had always known and loved. That was until there was an in house competition between he and some of the other juniors at the club.

It was a fun thing that she and the club’s other coach liked to do from time to time. They each had their own squads and they felt the competition was good for the kids. It was also a way of testing their coaching skills in a close to tournament competition type situation.

The matches could be quite hotly contested, and tempers did get frayed from time to time, especially with the kids in their early to mid teens. She and Harry; the other coach, were always there to make sure things never escalated out of hand and they weren’t afraid to make someone forfeit a game if they didn’t settle down when told to do so.


Shane’s opponent chose to needle him about the recent tournament loss and it got to the boy. After having a contentious line call go against him Shane snarled at the other boy and then served his next ball directly at his opponent’s head. Shane was acknowledged as one of the hardest serves at the club, even Harry found his better serves hard to handle. The other boy wasn’t ready for it and it struck him flush on the nose, breaking it.

As Harry escorted the young man off the court using a towel to try and stem the steady flow of blood from the smashed nose Mandy stood in front of Shane. The boy’s racquet dangled from his hand and his face had an insolent ‘What did I do?’ look on it. Mandy was furious, her chest heaved and spots of colour stood out on her cheeks, her normally cool green eyes were blazing as she stared at her student.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“An accident,” Shane offered.

“Like fun it was! You got upset with him, and I agree he was out of line bringing up what happened two weeks ago, but you’re going to get that and you have to learn how to deal with it. You do not serve balls into people!”

Shane shrugged. “He could have moved.”

“Not the way you serve, he couldn’t. The tourmament’s over. Get inside!” she punctuated it with a firm swat to the seat of the boy’s shorts, and then ushered the rest of the kids into the club house, so she could wrap things up early. Harry had already taken the stricken boy to casualty to get his nose reset.

The kids were understandably a little shaken and disappointed, but they accepted that the tournament couldn’t continue with one player en route to the hospital and only one coach to handle all of them. Most of them headed home and others called parents to pick them up.

Shane was pulling his phone out of a pocket out of his tennis bag to contact his mother when Mandy’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Not you,” she said calmly. “When the others have gone home you and I are going to have a little chat at my place, you understand?”

The look Shane gave his coach was part query, part challenge, but at length he nodded, put his phone in his pocket and sauntered over to a bench where he perched and chatted to a teammate who was waiting for his older sister to arrive and ferry him home.


Mandy watched the car pull out of the parking lot, satisfied herself that the clubhouse and the courts were empty, then started to lock up. “Come on,” she said to Shane, picking up her bag and heading to her car.

“Am I in trouble?” Shane asked, with the first sign that he was really starting to feel some genuine remorse for his on court actions.

“I’m still trying to decide,” Mandy answered through pursed lips, swinging the wheel to turn into her driveway.

The cell phone in the girl’s shorts pocket went off as she was unlocking her front door. Despite the situation Shane’s lips quirked up at her ring tone of Pat Benatar’s ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’. Mandy fumbled the phone out of her pocket and pointed Shane in the direction of her couch with a short command of, “Go sit.”

“This is Mandy,” she said into the phone. “Hey Harry. He’ll be okay? Great. Yeah, it’s good his parents see it as an accident. I’ll deal with Shane. See you tomorrow.”

“Is Aaron going to be okay?” Shane asked from the couch, he sat nervously on the edge of it, his tennis bag in front of his feet.

“Yes,” Mandy answered. “They stopped the bleeding and have reset his nose. Apparently he’s got two very impressive black eyes out of it.”

“Sorry,” Shane mumbled.

“I’ll make very sure you say that to Aaron next time you see him, young man,” Mandy promised sternly as she sat down next to Shane.

“What are you going to do about it?” Shane asked her, his blue eyes searching her face for a clue.

“You’re lucky that Aaron and his parents have accepted it was an accident, even though you and I and Harry know it wasn’t. They could have sued the club, you know. If that had happened then I think you’d probably have been forced to leave the club and you know that scholarship you were thinking about with that school, the one with the great training facilities and the excellent courts?”

Shane nodded.

“Yeah, well you could kiss that goodbye.”

“That’s not going to happen, though?”

“Fortunately, no, but Shane I can’t just let this slide. Combined with your blow up at the tournament it’s going to get noticed. You’ll get a reputation and believe me it is not one you want and will make everything a lot more difficult for you. It also reflects on me as your coach. What do you think I should do?”

“I dunno,” Shane said in a small voice, head down, eyes studying the tops of his trainers.

Mandy exhaled a long ragged breath, she couldn’t believe that both her heart rate and pulse were elevated. She couldn’t see her face, but she knew by the heat that she felt in her cheeks that they were flushed.

“I could suspend you, but that would be rather counter productive and I’d have to tell your parents why…”

“No don’t!” Shane blurted out, his eyes wide.

“Why not?” Mandy asked calmly.

“They’ll stop me playing,” he explained. “They’re already worried that I spend too much time playing tennis and not enough studying or hanging out with kids that aren’t at the club.”

Mandy nodded. That was to be expected with well rounded parents like Shane’s. She made a mental note to speak with them about Shane’s talent, and also reassure them that she would personally make sure his studies and social activities outside of the game didn’t suffer because of his sport.

“So no parents,” Mandy said half to herself, then turned her attention back to the boy. “You really disappointed me Shane, you know that?”

“Yes,” Shane said to the floor.

“Hey!” Mandy barked. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, young man.”

“Yes, Mandy,” Shane said, raising his eyes.

“I think we better stick to Miss Charlston or ma’am for the forseeable future, Mister,” the girl said sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy nodded.

“A couple of weeks ago you came up with an option for punishment. Were you serious about it?”

Clouds scudded across the boy’s clear blue eyes. “Man…I mean Miss Charlston?”

“You don’t remember?” Mandy pressed. “You suggested that I smack your bottom for on court misbehavior.”

Shane took a deep breath and his face blushed hotly.

“What do you think of a spanking now?” Mandy asked.

“I…ummm…you said you wouldn’t do that,” a clearly nervous Shane countered.

“You hadn’t deliberately injured a team mate then.”

“Will we be okay if you do that?” he asked.

Mandy’s face and voice softened. “Oh honey, of course we will. We’re always okay.” She held her arms out and hugged the young man tightly. “ I don’t want to hear any of that,” she said to him, punctuating it with a firm smack to the seat of his shorts.

Shane disengaged himself from the embrace and stammered, “W…when do we ddo it, ma’am?”

Mandy frowned. She really hadn’t known she was even going to do this until a few moments ago. Shane seemed to want…no need it and now she’d made up her mind. She had to follow through and she had to strike while the iron was hot, that meant Shane would be over her knee this afternoon.
“I believe in doing things while they’re still fresh in the mind, so do you have anywhere you have to be immediately?”

Shane swallowed hard and he answered in a choked voice, “No, Miss Charlston.”

‘Very well,” Mandy said firmly, hoping her expression matched her face. Mandy was genuinely very nervous, she rubbed her hands on the legs of her shorts, hoping that it would remove the sweat she was sure she could feel on them. The girl had never given a spanking, she’d never even seen one administered. The phrase old fashioned over the knee spanking kept springing to mind, so she guessed that was what she had to do. She pointed to her lap and ordered, “Get over my knee.”

Shane nodded, took a deep breath and lay over Mandy’s thighs. Mandy looked down at the tall, slender teen stretched out face down over her lap and tried to remember if she’d locked the door. The last thing she wanted now was someone to enter unexpectedly. She doubted anyone would, although Charmaine had a habit of dropping by without calling and she would just breeze into the house.

Mandy looked down at the tight backside encased by the equally tight white shorts and licked her lips. Charmaine was right, the boy really did have a very nice rear end, it must be all the sport that did it. It had been Mandy’s experience that tennis players had some of the most attractive bums in the world. Shane wriggled and the girl shook her head and remembered why he was there and what for.

She raised her hand and brought it down hard with a loud crack across the white shorts. Shane grunted as he felt the sting, but there was no other reaction and Mandy was surprised by the effect the blow had on her hand. Shane did have a firm bottom, she was sure it had to have hurt him, because it stung her hand a little. She followed that first smack with a volley of similar blows and Shane gasped and started to wriggle, his legs kicked a little involuntarily.

Was this enough? Mandy thought. Her hand stung, but did Shane’s bum? How many slaps constituted a spanking. Everything she had read or heard about them mentioned red bottoms and tear stained faces. Shane had grunted and gasped, he had squirmed a little, but she hadn’t heard an ouch yet. Maybe it was the shorts. Maybe they needed to come down. How could she see how red his backside was getting with them on?

“Get up, Shane,” Mandy said.

The boy rose obediently. He stood in front of her and he rubbed his just smacked bottom, but she could see from his face that she hadn’t really made much of an impact.

“Is that it?” he asked and his voice was rather disappointed, he also sounded a little contemptuous of Mandy’s skill as a disciplinarian.

It was the derisive tone that burned Mandy. She was a high achiever, she succeeded in everything that she did. If she was going to spank Shane she was going to do damn good job and that was not the case at present.

“No,” she said in a strong voice. “That is not it young man? I also didn’t hear you call me ma’am or Miss Charlston.” Her hand shot out and slapped a tanned thigh. Shane yelped and Mandy watched the handprint fill with red, a small smile of satisfaction on her face.

“Sorry Miss Charlston,” Shane said in a more respectful voice.

“Take your shorts off,” Mandy commanded. She could hardly believe that she had actually said that, her head felt light.

Shane stared at her, disbelief written across his young face.

“Go on,” Mandy urged. “You heard me. Take them off.”

Shane frowned, but did as he was told. His face flushed as he stood up, his shorts in an untidy white pile on the ground next to his sneakered feet. Mandy sighed. Boys!

“Pick them up, fold them and put them on the chair, please Shane. While you’re at it you can take your shoes off, too. You’re not going to need them for a while.”

With a hard swallow Shane undid his laces and took off his shoes, using his toes in their sports socks to push them under the couch. He picked up his shorts and folded them neatly before placing them on the chair that Mandy had indicated.

“Back over you get,” the girl ordered, jade eyes flicking back to her lap.

As Shane lay over Mandy’s tanned and toned thighs he thought to himself that he had asked for this. Although he found Mandy very attractive, he didn’t know of anyone who didn’t, this wasn’t a sexual thing. He regarded Mandy as a little like an older sister or a youngish aunt, she treated him that way most of the time, and that was why he wanted the spanking. He had developed a bit of a problem controlling his temper, his parents said it was his age, books about growing up attributed it to something called hormones, he hated what his temper made him do and he knew it reflected badly on Mandy when he lost it on court, so maybe if she gave him a sore bottom it would help him control it.

Mandy looked down at Shane’s boxer short covered bottom and regarded it. The boxers seemed looser than his tennis shorts, but they were quite thin and covered less ground. She could see patches of soft pink around the edges of the shorts, where the effect of her earlier spanks had spread. She could even feel a little warmth through the short’s insubstantial covering. She placed a palm on his buttocks, lifted it off and brought it down hard.



“Felt that one didn’t we?” Mandy asked.

“Yes, ma’am!” Shane had time to gasp before Mandy’s hand slapped down again.

Now this was more like it, Mandy thought. This was what a spanking was meant to be. Shane was squirming and trying to avoid her slaps. The faint pink flush around the bottoms of his boxers was spreading down his legs and deepening to a roseate glow. She could feel heat rising up through the thin material of the underwear. She was also gaining quite a feeling of power and deep satisfaction. Her face was flushed, she was perspiring lightly and her shortness of breath was not entirely caused by the exertion of the punishment.

Mandy stopped and monitored Shane. He was gulping in air and grunting with each slap. His body jerked and wriggled every time Mandy’s hard palm impacted his firm adolescent cheeks. The oowws and ouches came with every stinging blow now and his ankles had started to cross and uncross as the spanking continued and the temperature rose.

There was one thing that concerned Mandy. Shane had not said he was sorry for any of the things that had led to this situation and there were no tears. Again Mandy was no expert, but from what she knew spankings were meant to make the recipient cry. Shane didn’t sound close to that, so she must be doing something wrong.

The girl who had been spanked by her mother on the tour had said her mother used a hairbrush on her backside when she was spanked. Mandy had expressed horror at the time, but one of the other girls in the dressing room confessed that when she was growing up and she needed her bottom warmed it was always her mother’s hairbrush that did the job and it was on her bare bottom, too.

Mandy wondered if that was where she needed to take this. Shane clearly needed reining in and it seemed he was responding to the spanking, but she needed to hear genuine remorse for what he had done and she wanted tears. Her thoughts went to the bamboo hairbrush she had in her bedroom. It was a heavy rectangular object, with a nice long handle and a broad back that would easily span one of Shane Dennison’s undeniably pretty little cheeks. But bare bottom? Could she do that? Should she do it? Did it cross a line?

Biting her bottom lip in concentration Mandy unleashed a stinging volley right where Shane sat. He yelled and his legs kicked, but she still felt there was something lacking. “Up you get,” she said to the boy.

Shane awkwardly got to his feet and stood in front of her. His eyes were dry, but she did notice that his hands were quite busy rubbing what she was sure were a pretty hot pair of tomatoes under those thin shorts.

“Have I been spanked now, Miss Charlston?”

“What do you think, Shane?” Mandy asked, sitting back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“My bottom is sore and hot, ma’am,” the boy said.

“That wasn’t my question, sweetheart.”

Shane looked at his pretty tennis coach and he was thinking hard. “Aaron shouldn’t have said what he did about the game the other week.”

“Oh Shane,” Mandy sighed. “You broke his nose for that darling. I think you do need a little more thinking time over my lap, young man.”

Shane took a deep breath and prepared to lay himself back over Mandy’s lap. The girl held up a finger and said, “Not quite so fast. You just stand there and do not move a muscle. I’ll be back.” She stood gracefully and left the room.

Shane stood in the small living room, trying to rub away some of the fire that Mandy had lit on his rear end and wondered what was coming. What he had said was true, his backside was hot and it did sting, but there was something missing. He didn’t really feel sorry about Aaron’s nose. To be completely honest Mandy’s spanking was a bit of a disappointment, it felt nothing like the stories on the websites he shouldn’t have been looking at said it did. It hurt a bit, but she hadn’t done it on the bare bottom and there wasn’t that burning sting the stories spoke about, nor did it make him feel like he or Mandy were getting anything out of it.

Mandy returned, she had a bath towel in one hand and there was a rectangular hairbrush in the other. One the stories Shane read spoke about those, it was known as a paddle brush. Seeing it Shane could see why, it looked like a small paddle with bristles on one side.

The girl tossed the towel to Shane. He removed his hands from his burning backside and caught it awkwardly.

“Put that around you and then take off your boxers,” Mandy said.

“Man…Miss Charlston?” Shane said, his tone filled with wonder.

“I think you heard me, dear,” Mandy said, her foot tapping impatiently.

Shane wrapped the towel around his waist and fastened it in place, then dropped his boxers under it. He stepped out of them and picked them up, folding them before placing them on his shorts. While the boy had been doing that Mandy had sat down again, she used the head of the hairbrush to point to her lap and indicated where she wanted the young tennis player.

Once Shane was once again centred in her lap Mandy looked down on the towel covered behind and undid the towel. She drew in breath as the adolescent bottom was unveiled. It had a lovely rosy glow and it was actually warm to the touch. Mandy lifted and squeezed each cheek gently, just marveling at the feel of them.

A stirring under the towel that pressed insistently into Mandy’s smooth tanned thigh brought a frown to the girl’s face. She hadn’t meant to do that. Playtime was over. It was time for the spanking to recommence.

The brush was very different to the hand. She had to compensate for the fact that it had a handle and that it was less yielding than her hand, but she felt she could get a good connection with it, a nice loud crack with each stinging smack and a loud yell in answer.

Mandy peppered the boy’s madly wriggling hindquarters with sharp blows from her hairbrush. They went from rose to a deep rich glowing cherry red. She worked the bottom over methodically, going from the crowns to the upper thighs. The tops of the legs were tenderer than the rest and they reddened up quickly. In fact Shane’s struggles were so vigorous that Mandy found it necessary to lock one of her legs over Shane’s to prevent him from falling off her lap.  Shane was a fit healthy adolescent boy, but Mandy exercised every day, her body was fully mature and grown and she had never gotten out of the habit of regular gym workout since her professional playing days.

The girl continued to spank steadily and then as Shane’s backside reached furnace like temperatures the floodgates broke and she heard him sob. A smile broke out on her face. This was what she had wanted.

“I’m soreeee, Mandeee!” Shane wailed.

Mandy didn’t bother to reprimand him for forgetting the ma’am or the Miss Charlston, she had gotten him to where she wanted now.

“Why are you sorry, young man?” she asked without missing a beat of the spanking, brushing his sit spot firmly.

‘Because I broke Aaron’s nose!” Shane blubbered.

“Are you sorry for losing your temper?”

“Yes! Yes! Yesssss! I’m sorreeeee!”

Mandy felt that Shane was genuine and his bottom must have been absolutely on fire. She brought the spanking to a climax with a few more sizzling swipes from the brush across his crowns. She lifted the sobbing boy off her lap, and then wrapping the towel around him again gathered him into her lap. She noticed that the erection she had felt through the towel earlier had disappeared, although he was still half hard. She held the boy’s trembling body to her and let him blubber into her shoulder, while she rubbed his back soothingly and stroked his hair.

When she felt he was cried out, she let him up, clucked over the state of his face. Not only had he cried, but his nose had run and he had also drooled. Mandy cleaned him up, and walked him to a corner of the room. She had arranged his hands on his head, taken off the towel, placed it on a nearby table, so he could reach it without exposing himself, warned him to stay there and then poured herself a glass of lemonade from a pitcher in the fridge.

Mandy sipped her lemonade and said to Shane, “You can turn around now, sweetie.”

Shane put the towel around himself, and gave Mandy a look that was filled with affection. “You can get dressed again, then sit with me and have some lemonade.”

Shane’s winces were not lost on Mandy as he replaced his boxer shorts and the tight shorts. She knew he must be on fire underneath them. She put a big soft pillow on the couch cushion next to her and Shane eased himself carefully onto it. He gulped at the first glass of lemonade Mandy poured him and she gave him a second one.

“Thank you Miss Charlston,” Shane said seriously.

“You needed that, didn’t you?”

Shane nodded.

“Do you think you’ll need it again?”

Shane frowned into his glass. “If I start getting all angry on the court again can you do it, please?”

“You want me to spank you again?”

“Uh huh,” Shane sipped his drink. “I think it helps.”


Shane was as good as his word and every three to six months he seemed to need a refresher course over Mandy’s lap. It worked though and his tennis game went from strength to strength. Mandy built up a small squad of young players who benefited from this rather unusual training method over the years.

Just before the Australian season had started, the one that had culminated in the young man’s first major, he had appeared at Mandy’s door. He had a present for her. It was a very high quality oak hairbrush. Mandy had christened it over Shane’s bottom that very afternoon, and now he was celebrating the high point of his career. He was also considered one of the most even tempered players in the top echelon.

Mandy smiled to herself as she left her seat to go join the victory party, she patted her handbag to make sure that her new hairbrush was with her. She didn’t expect to need it, but one never knew.

Sunday, 7 July 2013

'The Spank Shop 36 - Ryan'

Has it really been nearly two months since Seegee graced us with a new instalment of the Spank Shop? My goodness. Well, this one called Ryan, covers a rather unsavoury incident in the annals of Clarkstown. Be warned, it is quite long and a little more severe than other recent episodes. For the brave of heart read on.

An example of what caused all the fuss.

Who would have thought the humble clothesline held such allure?

The eager audience watch on.

Not every paddling has or needs an audience, but Ryan's certainly did.

Kimberley Kennedy accepted payment from Clarkstown’s Spank Shop’s most recent satisfied customer and watched the still sniffling teenage boy mince his way out of the shop, his hand tightly held by his mother. The adolescent receptionist smiled to herself and then sent a nervous young lady into her mother’s parlour, where Gabrielle Kennedy no doubt had a blistering spanking waiting for the unfortunate girl.

The blonde girl entered the details of the recent punishment into her meticulously kept spreadsheets and kept one ear listening to the muffled sounds of smacking and howling coming from the room Gabrielle occupied and similar noises emanating from the shop’s owner ‘Aunty’ Andrea Mahoney, and had the other on the conversation that three of the ladies in the shop’s waiting room were engaged in.

All three were known to Kimberley. Her family were long time residents of Clarkstown, and very little happened in the community that she and her mother did not know about.

The recently married Millicent Campbell was here to see Andrea. Kimberley did the books so she knew that the young bride was going to have her bottom smacked by the experienced and accomplished disciplinarian, but she didn’t press for details, as it wasn’t the first time she had taken a trip over Andrea’s knees for being too inquisitive. Desiree Price was the mother of the boy over Andrea’s lap at present, and twenty-two year old Misty Kendall was having her situpon warmed by Gabrielle while her mother Fiona waited to escort her no doubt distraught daughter home again.

“More tea ladies?” Kimberley asked brightly.

“No thank you, Kimberley,” Millicent said in a weak voice, she was obviously rather nervous about her upcoming appointment with Andrea.

“I will, Kimmy,” Fiona said brightly, holding her empty cup up.

“As Tony’s likely to be a while,” Desiree murmured. “I’d like a freshen up too, dear.”

Kimberley nodded, and as she got up to fill the orders asked the women, “Can you please keep an eye on the two in the corners and if they try anything let me know and I’ll reheat them.”

When Kimberley returned with fresh hot tea for Fiona and Desiree the three ladies were talking in hushed voices. “They were taken right off the line, Desiree?” Fiona asked the buxom brunette.

Desiree poured herself a cup of tea and nodded.

“Mine, too,” Millicent said glumly. “Not every pair, but two of them definitely went missing.”

“That’s extraordinary,” Fiona marveled, sipping her tea gently.

Kimberley sighed as she returned to her desk. She knew what the three women were discussing. Not a lot happened in sleepy Clarkstown ordinarily, but of late a curious phenomenon had taken place. Underwear, ladies underwear to be precise, had been disappearing from clotheslines all over the town. Even from the line of the wealthy and aristocratic Veronica Dixon-Thompson, who lived on a fenced property out of town itself. No one knew how it had happened, although it was suspected that someone not something was doing it. Andrea believed that it was more than likely the work of a gang of local kids, trying to get a reaction. She’d promised to blister the seats of whoever they were when they were discovered, even though her line had not yet been hit. Kimberley’s mother Gabrielle thought it was what she referred to as a ‘snow dropper’ someone who got a kick out of filching lingerie. Kimberley shook her head and wondered what sort of person got a thrill out of that.

The older sister of the boy in one corner came to collect him and paid Kimberley. She excused herself and asked Desiree to watch her son and the girl still in the corners while she went to put some rubbish in the bins outside.

Kimberley wrinkled her nose as she closed the large plastic garbage bin and then heard a noise in the garden. The blonde frowned and decided to investigate. She had some aprons on the line, it would be just like some disgruntled youngster to invade the yard and dirty them up again to spite her. She’d roast their behind if that was the case. Then again it could a bird and much as may Kimberley want to she couldn’t exactly paddle their tails.

The girl’s eyes opened wide as she entered the back yard and saw the actual cause of the disturbance. A tall, skinny, scruffy young man dressed in rather threadbare and hard worn clothes was unpinning some of Andrea’s panties from the line. He turned as Kimberley gasped. He gulped and ran his ill-gotten gains crumpled in a grubby hand.

“Stop!” Kimberley shouted. “Stop thief!” then she gave chase.

The ‘snow dropper’ as Gabrielle Kennedy would have no doubt referred to him had height on Kimberley. The girl was, by her own admission, petite, but she was fit and had been a cheerleader in high school, so the thief found her harder to shake than he would have first thought.

He bolted out of the alley that ran between the yard and Andrea’s garage and hit the street, then legged it down the pavement. Kimberley shot out of the narrow opening, looked both directions, then saw her target and went after him.

The thief chanced a look behind him as the crazy little blonde was gaining. He didn’t see the woman with short blonde hair coming from the opposite direction.

“Tania!” Kimberley yelled at the newcomer.

Constable Tania Wheeler, a member of the Clarkstown Police Department looked up at the sound of her friend’s voice.

“He’s a thief, Tania,” Kimberley insisted, pointing to the fleeing man. “Stop him!”

Tania assessed the scene professionally. The so-called thief was taller than her, but she had police training and knew how to take down people larger than her. She stuck out a hand and grabbed the boy’s arm, she used his own momentum to swing him around and then pushed him into a wall, with his arm wrenched up behind his back. The boy struggled and swore. “Leggo, you stupid bitch!”

That sort of talk wasn’t going to endear him to Tania Wheeler and as a breathless Kimberley caught up to her asked, “Aside from needing a cleaner mouth, why exactly have I apprehended this creature, Kimberley?”

“He’s the panty thief,” Kimberley explained, spots of colour standing out on her cheeks.

“Really?” one of Tania’s eyebrows rose at the accusation.

“Look in his hand,” Kimberley said, glaring at the young man who Tania had pinned to the wall.

“Open the hand,” Tania ordered.

“Get fucked!” the boy answered.

Tania sighed and wrenched the arm further up the back. The young man gasped and opened his hand, revealing some filmy undergarments.

“Oh my God!” Tania exclaimed. “Are those…?”

“Aunty Andrea’s yes,” Kimberley confirmed, snatching the panties out of the thief’s hand.

“We better get him and you back to the shop and see how Andrea wants to handle this, Kim,” Tania decided.


“Kimberley Susan!” a stern faced Andrea greeted her receptionist when she walked back in the shop’s front door with Tania and the panty thief in tow. “What exactly is the meaning of this, young lady? You leave the shop to put some rubbish out back and you’re gone for ages, leaving clients to watch the corners. I had to interrupt a session to answer the phone.”

All the colour drained from Kimberley’s face. An angry Andrea was not something anyone wanted to face at the best of times and the girl could feel a familiar tingle rising in her bottom. The fact that her mother was also standing in the room with a leather paddle held in her hand, only exacerbated the about to be spanked feelings washing through the adolescent receptionist.

Tania stepped forward, yanking her prisoner with her, his hands were now cuffed behind his back. “I can explain this, Andie,” she said. “Kim found my foul mouthed ‘friend’ here, removing underwear from your line. She chased him and I happened to be out patrolling on foot.”

“You took my panties!” a furious Millicent Campbell accused.

“Mine too,” Desiree Price coolly backed up the young married girl, her teacup still in hand.

“And now mine,” Andrea said as she accepted the items of underwear from Kimberley.

“Does anyone want to press charges?” Tania asked.

“I do,” Millicent confirmed.

Desiree nodded gently.

“Most definitely,” Andrea agreed. She fixed the uncomfortable young man with her jade eyes. “You also caused young Kimberley a good deal of stress, young man. The police may not be able to charge you for that, but if things work out the way I hope they will then I think we’ll meet again and you’ll pay for that as well.”

The thief tried to hide behind Tania. The chestnut haired woman with the green eyes scared him. There was just something about her stance, her expression and her voice that told him she could cause him a great deal of discomfort. The name on the shingle outside the shop had not been lost on him either. The red bottomed, sobbing blonde girl in a corner of the room and the paddle in the hand of the stunning blonde milf told him exactly what the name outside meant.


Although the crime was met with a bit of good-natured joking down at the police station, by the mostly male officers they all agreed that stealing was a serious offence, and Tania’s ‘collar’ deserved to have the book thrown at him. As one remarked anyone stilly enough to cross Andrea deserved whatever he got.

“Name?” Tania asked the surly boy in the chair across from him.


“Look,” Tania sighed. “You’re not a local, I know everyone from here. You look like a repeat offender to me. I’m guessing you’re around twenty and have probably done time in juvie. You can tell me your name or I’ll check online records and get it that way. I’d advise cooperating, it will make things easier on everyone.”

The boy looked at the feisty little policewoman and said in a soft voice, “Ryan. Ryan Smith.”

“Thank you, Ryan. I’m Tania. Constable Tania Wheeler. If you promise me that you’re not going to bolt I’ll take the handcuffs off too.”


“So what’s his name?” Andrea asked Tania over the phone later that day when she had processed the thief.

“Ryan Smith. He’s got an interesting history.”

“Really? Do you mind if I link Kimmy in? She’s got a bit of a vested interest here.”

“Not at all.”

“Hi Tania!” Kimberley’s cheerful voice came on the line.

“Kimberley we’ve spoken about this before, young lady. This is police work,” Andrea scolded her assistant.

“Okay, sorry, ma’am. Hello Constable Wheeler.”

“That’s cool, honey. As I was saying to Andrea his name is Ryan Smith and I was able to get a fair bit of information on him. He was a foster kid, even he doesn’t know who his parents were. The Smith is a random name and I’m not even sure who gave him the name Ryan, but that’s how he’s legally registered. He bounced from foster home to foster home and from institution to institution…”

“That’s a little sad,” Andrea said softly.

“It still doesn’t mean he can just take stuff off people’s clotheslines!” Kimberley said hotly.

“No, it does not excuse his crimes,” Andrea agreed.

“Once he was sixteen and no longer able to be cared for by the state he became a drifter. This isn’t the first time he’s run foul of the law. There are a few shoplifting charges, drunk and disorderly, this is the first time I could find the ladies underwear connection, although one of the shoplifting charges contained a package of panties.”

“Do you think it’s a sexual fetish?” Andrea asked.

“Ummmm…I’m not sure,” Tania answered, blushing hotly. “I’m having him assessed by Dr Sutcliffe at the moment. She can probably answer that. What I want to know is if I can get him in to be seen by Judge Thornley today do you want me to? I’ve spoken to some of the other victims and they’re happy to have this dealt with quickly and will abide by whatever Sandra agrees.”

“Even Veronica?”

“Especially Veronica,” Tania laughed. “She actually asked me why I didn’t just get you to handle him then and there. I had to tell her that we needed to follow some sort of legal process.”

Andrea chuckled richly. “Yes, that certainly does sound like Veronica.”

“You know Sandra may send him to you for punishment?”

“Oh yes please!” Kimberley interjected, and Tania could just see the little blonde licking her lips with the prospect.

“Kimberley, enough!” Andrea reproved the girl. “I was rather hoping that would be the case. It’s something we’ll need to discuss with everyone concerned once Sandra makes her judgement.”


“Well, this is different,” Sandra Thornley said as she surveyed the ladies arranged in her office, and the rather nervous and woebegone looking young man seated in a chair on the other side of her desk and sipped her coffee. “Then again this is a very unusual situation and I can’t remember presiding over something like it before. Ryan would you like to tell everyone exactly what you have done to get yourself here?”

Ryan’s expression said that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, but he already knew he was in a bad situation and he was streetwise enough to know that a refusal would make it even worse. “I…ummmm…stole some stuff from the ladies,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” Sandra’s hard voice said.

“I took….uhhhh….undies,” Ryan tried again.

“It’s a little better,” Sandra sighed, although the blazing blue eyes of her pretty young court assistant Melanie, said that she didn’t think so. Sandra wasn’t totally surprised by the reaction the girl had been one of Ryan’s victims, after all.

“Why exactly did you target underwear?” Sandra pressed. “They couldn’t have been worth that much and they were used as well.”

The boy’s face went bright red and he started to stammer incoherently.

One of the ladies in the office, an attractive woman with waves of soft brown hair and maternal looking eyes of the same colour said, “I may be able to help out here, Judge Thornley.”

“We don’t have to be quite that formal in my chambers, Rosalie. Sandra is fine.”

“Thank you, Sandra,” the psychologist said, and her voice took on a lecturing tone as she became aware that all the attention in the room was on her. “I’ve only had the one session with Ryan, but it would appear that maternal abandonment is at the root of the compulsion.”

“Are you saying we should let him off, because his mother left him, Rosalie?” Desiree Price asked.

“Oh no, not at all,” Rosalie assured the ladies in the room as a rising tide of discontent rippled through them. “I’m simply trying to explain what drove him to do it. He knows right from wrong and he knew he shouldn’t have done it. I’m not the first therapist he’s seen.”

“I can’t afford it,” Ryan muttered.

“Now, Ryan,” Rosalie clucked. “You know it’s not a question of payment. You’ve been offered therapy in the past, but you didn’t want to stay in the one place.”

“What do you suggest, Dr Sutcliffe?” Andrea asked, one of her long, silk stockinged legs swinging casually.

“Well, I think we need to offer Ryan a home here in Clarkstown and  I will continue to treat him…”

“That’s long term,” Andrea interrupted. “I mean how are we to deal with the stealing incident?”

“Who’s going to offer him a job, anyway?” Millicent Campbell asked. “He’s got no skills and I doubt much education. My husband runs a business, but I don’t think he could trust this person.”

“Millie,” Andrea said in what was a warning tone.

The curly haired girl went immediately quiet and her hands flew to her bottom, which still hurt from her earlier encounter with Andrea, which had also dealt with her temper.

“Millie’s right, though Aunty Andrea,” Kimberley spoke up. “It’s a trust thing.”

“I may be able to offer a solution,” said an aristocratic voice at the back of the room.

All eyes turned to the raven haired, immaculately dressed and styled woman who had spoken. Veronica Dixon-Thompson. “I have an extensive garden on my estate. It’s not easy to keep up. I have a gardener, but he’s no longer a young man and he’s been asking for an assistant or an apprentice. My gardener lives locally, but I have a cottage on the grounds that is liveable.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Veronica?” Tania asked, casting doubtful glances at Ryan.

“I’m far from helpless, Tania. I also have a butler, prior to taking up employment with me he was in the army. I’m told he was rather handy with his fists, taking out the regiment’s boxing title on more than one occasion. What do you say, young man?”

Ryan looked Veronica up and down. “You’re offering me a place?” he asked.

“Yes, with certain conditions. You’ll get food and board, and I will ensure that you are paid a wage at award rates for an apprentice gardener or groundsman. In return you will treat me, and the rest of my staff with respect and politeness. Your boss will be Mr Higgins, my gardener, you will be required to do as he tells you and I don’t want to hear about complaints. You will comply with whatever sentence Judge Thornley hands down.”

Ryan licked his lips. “Yeah, I guess that’s okay.”

“Ryan,” Judge Thornley spoke again. “I think we can show a little more gratitude than that. Miss Dixon-Thompson has given you a great opportunity here, and after you stole from her too.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said to the beautiful brunette.

“Ryan, just so we get off to the right start I think you had better start calling me ma’am or Miss Dixon-Thompson. We’ll see how it goes and maybe we can let you use Veronica.”

“Does anybody have anything else to say before I pronounce sentence?” Sandra asked.

“I got sworn at a lot when I apprehended him,” Tania added.

“I’ll bear that in mind, Tania,” Sandra said with a smile. “Now Ryan, are you ready to hear my judgment?”

Ryan licked cracked dry lips nervously and nodded.

“Very well,” Sandra said, her voice becoming professional. “For the crimes of stealing, given that they were small items of little value, I don’t think we can incarcerate you and especially considering that Veronica has offered you employment, we don’t want to delay that. You are to report to the Spank Shop at a time to be decided after some consultation with the affected parties. The punishment will be decided on by Miss Andrea and her girls as well as others involved. You will also continue your therapy with Dr Sutcliffe until she decides it is no longer required. I won’t levy any community service, but in lieu of that you will report to the Spank Shop at regular intervals until Andrea thinks you’ve sufficiently learned your lesson.”

Ryan’s face had gone white in shock, but he nodded slowly.


“So when and how should we do this, ladies?” Andrea asked Kimberley and Gabrielle as they sat taking tea in reception in the Spank Shop.

“Do you have anything free, Kimmy?” Gabrielle asked her daughter as the girl frowned down at her appointment book.

“I don’t think we can do this during the day like a normal appointment,” the girl said seriously.

“I agree,” Andrea said firmly.

“What did you have in mind?” Gabrielle asked the teenager.

“That time we had Cameron Worth here we did it after hours,” Kimberley recalled. “There’s also going to be a lot of people watching this. We won’t fit them all in one of the parlours.”

“I was thinking after hours, too,” Andrea said. “As long as neither of you have any objections.”

“None from me,” Gabrielle replied.

Kimberley shook her head.

“I do love you two as employees,” Andrea beamed. “Now as Kimberley mentioned the parlours probably aren’t suitable for the crowd we’re going to have.”

“Who exactly is attending?” Gabrielle queried, sipping tea.

“Let me see,” Andrea murmured, ticking them off on her fingers. “There’s Tania as the arresting officer, Sandra as the sentencing judge, Melanie as she was a victim, Rosalie as his therapist, Veronica as employer, then there’s Millicent and Desiree because he stole from them, too. And I found out that some Sharon Johnson had some of her underthings stolen as well as some of the young nurses, so Tiffany has offered to attend in their stead.”

Kimberley added the names up in her head as Andrea counted them off. “That’s nine people watching and when you add us three in and Ryan, that’s quite a crowd ma’am.”

“It is, dear, and I think I’ve even limited numbers a little.”

“Do you remember your birthday, Aunty?” Kimberley asked with a small smile.

‘Yes, I do, young lady,” Andrea admitted, a gentle flush entering her cheeks.

“We had loads that day and we did it in here.”

Gabrielle laughed and clapped. “Kimmy that’s a brilliant idea! As we’re doing this after hours we can rearrange things and have everyone in here and still plenty of room to tan Ryan’s behind.”

Andrea nodded. “Now that’s settled. What exactly did you two have in mind for him?”

“You don’t have a punishment worked out, ma’am?” Kimberley asked.

“Oh yes, I have my own ideas. I’d like to see how that tallies up with what you two were thinking.”

“Well, he’d have to get a hand warm up,” Kimberley began her brow furrowed and her top teeth worrying her lower lip. “Can I give that please, Aunty?”

“Of course sweetheart,” Andrea gave her permission with a sunny smile. “I’m very glad you spoke up and took the initiative.”

Gabrielle voiced her opinion. “I’d say the hairbrush…”

“I’ll do that,” Andrea said firmly.

“A good paddling with a small paddle and a switching would not go astray.” Gabrielle added.

“Excellent!” Andrea said. “I have some refinements of my own that concern The Igniter and the cane.”

At the mention of the stingy strap even Kimberley gasped.

“I bet he won’t be stealing any more panties after this,” the girl said as she put her appointment book away and got ready to close up for the day.

When Tania escorted a much neater and cleaner visibly nervous Ryan to the Spank Shop there was an eager audience sipping tea and waiting for their guest of honour.

“Oh he looks so much nicer now that you’ve bathed him and shaved all that silly stubble off!” Sandra exclaimed as the boy was ushered in.

“Do a turn and let us have a look at you, Ryan,” Veronica commanded imperiously from her seat.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said with a deep blush and did as she told him.

“How has he been since he moved into your estate?” Andrea asked her fellow tennis club member.

“Oh fine,” Veronica said in her cultured voice. “I think he’s a little shell shocked to be honest. I’ll give him a day or two to recover from the ordeal you no doubt have in store for him, Andie. Then put him to work. Mr Higgins is dying for him to start.”

“You can stop turning now, Ryan,” Andrea said. “You’re making me dizzy, darling.”

The comment earned a giggle from many of the assembled ladies.

“Now, sweetheart, Miss Kimberley is going to take you to the change room and get you ready.”

Kimberley held out a hand and said with a gentle smile, “C’mon let’s get that botty of yours all ready to be smacked.”

With his eyes wide Ryan took the offered hand and was taken to a change room.

Inside the room the boy didn’t seem to know what was expected. Kimberley took charge. “Firstly, you can go through to the bathroom and make water.”

Ryan looked at her, no understanding in his muddy brown eyes.

“Oh for goodness sake! Make water, go potty, pee! Scoot!” the girl planted a firm smack on the rear of the shell-shocked young man’s jeans and he scurried into the bathroom.

“I can’t hear anything, Ryan,” Kimberley called after a moment or two.

“I haven’t got anything,” Ryan answered.

“That should be I haven’t got anything, Miss Kimberley,” the girl said, her voice stern. “Forget it again and we can start the bottom warming early. It’s up to you Ryan, but I can promise you that if you have the opportunity to visit the bathroom and then have an accident over anyone’s lap you will be one very sorry young man.”

Kimberley continued to bustle about the room, getting what she wanted ready for Ryan and then smiled to herself as she heard the unmistakable sound of a steady stream of pent up urine hitting the porcelain of the toilet bowl.

“That feels better, doesn’t it?” Kimberley smiled at Ryan when he emerged from the bathroom.

Ryan frowned at the girl, not sure how to answer, then said, “Uhhh…yeah, it does, miss.”

“I’d prefer Miss Kimberley,” she said. “That will do for a start, though. Now take off your clothes.”

“Mumuhmy clothes, ma’am?” Ryan asked.

“Well, we can’t very well spank you with them on, can we, silly?” Kimberley asked with a grin. “Come on get them off, every stitch.”

Ryan stared at the girl.

Kimberley sighed. “You’ve gone all shy,” she said.

Ryan nodded wordlessly.

“You better get over it, because you will be going over a few knees with a bare bottom and every lady out there is going to see it, Ryan. I’m a pussy cat compared to Aunty Andrea and Mum if you don’t do as you’re told.”

Ryan looked at the pretty blonde standing there. Her lips pursed, arms folded over her chest, one toe tapping impatiently on the floor. His shoulders slumped and he began to remove his clothing. Kimberley’s expression softened and she smiled as Ryan disrobed.

In a moment or two Ryan stood nude in front of Kimberley, his hands in front of his privates. “You’re just going to leave them there?” the girl asked.


“Your clothes, Ryan,” Kimberley clarified, pointing at the small pile of clothes on the floor.


Kimberley shook her head despairingly. “Pick them up, fold them and put them on the bed. I’ll make sure you get them back before you leave.”

Ryan looked from the clothes to Kimberley and didn’t seem to know what do.

“Well?” Kimberley demanded.

“I…ummmm….I….” the boy’s eyes kept flicking to the hands he had clapped over his genitals.

‘Yes, you are going to have to take your hands away and I am going to see. Please don’t flatter yourself. I’m a discipline consultant at a spank shop, it’s not like you’re the only young man I see in the altogether.”

Tears of shame pricking his eyes, Ryan moved his hands and picked up the clothes. Kimberley noticed with an amused twitch of her lips that he held the garments in front of himself as he folded them and once they were on the bed his clapped both hands back over his front again. Considering why he was here his modesty was interesting.

Kimberley pointed at the white panties that were on the bed. “Put them on,” she commanded.

Ryan blinked. “But they’re ladies panties, ma’am.”

“Very perceptive. We thought seeing as you like them so much you were willing to steal pairs you may appreciate having some of your own.”

With a gulp Ryan reached out and picked up the item of underwear. It was white and relatively old fashioned. They were what were known as sensible underwear.

“Go on,” Kimberley urged.

Awkwardly Ryan put the panties on. They were a little tight and not at all comfortable, but they did cover him up a bit, even if it was highly embarrassing.

“They’re a touch tight, aren’t they?” Kimberley asked.

Ryan nodded miserably.

“I knew we should have got the next size up,” the girl mused to herself. “Well it’s done now. Let’s get you out there. You’ve got an adoring public.” Kimberley sent the boy ahead of her with a ringing smack to the seat of the fresh panties.

As Ryan stepped out in front of the assembled ladies to laughs and comments he wished that Kimberley had purchased a larger pair. The ones he was wearing not only pressed against his equipment, confining it tightly and were almost painful. They also rode up his crack uncomfortably.

“You seem a little fidgety, Ryan,” Andrea observed.

Ryan blushed even deeper.

“Ladies panties not as comfy as you thought?” the chestnut haired woman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No ma’am.”

“Well, you won’t be wearing them for all that long.”

“I used to hate the unveiling,” Desiree drawled. “Always the worst part.”

“Not the burning bottom that came soon after, Desiree?” Sharon Johnson asked with interest.

“That hurt, but I remembered being bare butt in front of everyone for longer.”

“Before we get started on Ryan’s bottom I have another little addition that Sandra and Tania asked me to perform. You know about it Kim, can you please fetch me what we’ll need, dear?”

“Right away, ma’am,” the girl said efficiently. “Does anyone want more tea?”

Having received negative replies Kimberley disappeared from the room.

“Ma’am?” a thoroughly humiliated Ryan asked softly.

“Yes, dear?”

“Ummmm… there another way we can handle this, Miss?”

“Another way?”

Ryan gestured at the eager audience.

“You do realize that your actions have affected everyone here, Ryan?”

The boy nodded softly.

“Then no, I am afraid they have to be present.”

“Do I have to be spanked?”

“What else would you suggest?”

“I…ummm…I don’t….” Ryan faltered.

Andrea turned to Judge Thornley. “Sandra, what happens if Ryan refuses his assigned punishment?”

The dark haired judge sighed theatrically. “It’s a terrible bother. I’ll have to redo the paperwork…”

“You mean I’ll have to redo it,” Melanie interjected.

“Yes, so it will be inconveniencing both of us. I’ll have to see if there’s a spot in a local correction centre for Ryan. We’re cracking down on theft at present, so the sentence will need to be quite stiff.”

“I’d have to rescind my offer of employment, too,” Veronica said, sipping her tea. “Mr Higgins needs someone now, not whenever Ryan’s sentence will be up.”

“Do you still want to handle things differently, Ryan?” Andrea asked.

“No, ma’am,” the boy said, looking at his toes.

“I think part of the problem is that you don’t seem to regard the offence as particularly serious, do you?”

“That’s quite common with crimes of Ryan’s nature,” Rosalie Sutcliffe said, immediately studying the contents of her cup as Andrea’s green eyes flashed.

“They were only panties…” Ryan started.

Andrea raised one slim forefinger to quell the rising tide of protest. “Yes, Ryan they were ONLY panties, but that’s not the point. It’s not the value of the item. It is the action itself. You violated these ladies privacy, first by entering their properties and then by taking something that is quite private to them. I doubt you’ve ever been burgled, young man. It is an unsettling experience. I don’t think you understand how your victims felt. You thought this was a victimless crime and it is not.”

Ryan’s face lost colour and he nodded slowly.

Kimberley reentered the room bearing a bowl of water, a towel , a glass, a jug of water and a fresh bar of soap.

“Gabrielle could you and Tania please come here and hold Ryan,” Andrea asked, as the boy’s eyes widened at seeing what the little blonde was carrying.  “Kim, can you please lather up a cloth for me. I want it nice and soapy.”

With a broad smile Kimberley nodded and began to do as Andrea had requested.

Andrea addressed her audience. “Some of you may be wondering why I’m doing this. Apparently Ryan was quite mouthy with Tania when she apprehended him. One of the words used started with an f and another is a vulgar term for a female dog. Tania did not appreciate being spoken to that way at all.”

There were gasps of shock and disapproval from the assembled audience.
“Now I realize this is something that generally happens to young children when they say things they shouldn’t, Ryan, but I think even you would have to agree that your behaviour wasn’t particularly mature and in my Spank Shop when a grown man or lady behaves like a child, they are treated like one and that includes a hearty meal of soap and water. How’s that cloth coming, Kim?”

“Oh it’s lathered up beautifully, ma’am,” the girl replied enthusiastically.

Ryan watched proceedings with growing horror. He had never had his mouth washed out. One foster parent dosed him with caster oil. That had been a singularly unpleasant experience. He had met kids in care who had been on the receiving end of the soap and water treatment. The stories made it sound like something to be avoided.

Andrea had a pair of rubber gloves on and she accepted a dripping, soapy washcloth from Kimberley. She approached Ryan with it, he swayed away from her. “Tania,” Andrea said calmly. “Could you please ensure that Ryan doesn’t move away?”

“With pleasure,” the little blonde police officer said with a smile and took an iron grip on the boy’s arm.

Ryan had achieved a healthy respect for the small blonde during their previous encounter. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

“Open up,” Andrea ordered.

Ryan kept his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Gabrielle,” Andrea said to the Kennedy matriarch.

The serene blonde took a firm hold of the back of Ryan’s neck and her other hand pressed down painfully on a pressure point under his jaw. Ryan gasped and his mouth opened. Andrea plunged the washcloth in there.

Andrea rubbed the soapy cloth thoroughly all over the insides of Ryan’s mouth. She washed his teeth and gums and even his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. “Swearing isn’t smart, Ryan,” Andrea scolded. “It isn’t even very funny. It is vulgar and all it does is reflect poorly on those that use the language. If you want to be taken seriously, young man, I would suggest you clean that foul mouth of yours. Hopefully this will remind you to do that in the future.”

Andrea kept it up until the boy was gagging and his eyes were watering. She removed the cloth and tossed it into a bowl of water. Kimberley poured a glass of water and held it up to Ryan. “Rinse,” she said.

Ryan gulped the water, swished it around his mouth and spat it into the bowl the girl held out. This was repeated twice more before Kimberley agreed that he had sufficiently rid his mouth of the soapy residue and probably wasn’t going to swallow much of it or make himself sick.

“Open up again Ryan,” Andrea commanded.

Ryan took a deep breath and opened his mouth obediently. Andrea inserted the slick bar of white soap in and ordered, “Close again, but don’t bite down.”

Tears trickling down his cheeks Ryan closed his mouth around the horrible tasting bar of soap. “Gabrielle,” Andrea addressed her part time employee. “Could you please put Ryan in the corner, while we get the rest of his punishment ready?”

“Come with me please, sweetheart,” Gabrielle said, taking Ryan by the elbow and leading him to a corner. “Now let’s get those hands on your head, darling.” The attractive matron arranged Ryan’s hands on top of his head.

Kimberley inquired as to everyone’s refreshment needs while Andrea and Gabrielle disappeared into Andrea’s parlour, or ‘spanking room’ as many of her clients referred to it, and came out later carrying things in their hands. Gabrielle’s hand was wrapped around a solid wooden paddle that was about a foot in length and had a number of holes drilled at intervals down the blade. Pretty nurse Tiffany, who had recently been introduced to the Spencer paddle at one of her Friday morning discipline sessions, blanched when she saw it. “Oh that must really sting,” Veronica commented.

“I’ve been told that the application of baby oil before applying it increases that feeling, too,” Sharon Johnson said to the dark haired woman.

Unfortunately for Ryan, Gabrielle was carrying a bottle of baby oil in her other hand.

Andrea had three items in her hands. One was an oval hairbrush, made of a dark, heavy wood called ebony. The brush was Andrea’s favourite and was referred to as Mrs Ebony. Very few people who met Mrs Ebony wanted to continue their acquaintance. The other items were a mid length strap, the length of leather was black, wide and quite thick. Even Kimberley shuddered on seeing it. The Igniter as the strap had been christened turned client’s bowls to water and lit long lasting fires on the backsides of recipients. The other object was long and thin with a crook handle; that was Andrea’s rattan school cane. Veronica, who had felt it in the past, couldn’t stop her buttocks from clenching as it came into view.

Desiree frowned. “I’m not sure my panties are quite worth what you’ve got planned for the poor boy.”

“Poor boy, my eye!” Millicent said scornfully. “He made us scared to hang out washing out. I haven’t used the clothes line since he took my knickers.”

“Millie does have a point, Desiree,” Sharon backed the curly haired girl.
“Fear is part of what Ryan’s actions have instilled in people,” Rosalie commented, blowing on her tea to cool it. “He needs to be properly disciplined. I think we can trust Andrea and her ladies to be firm, but fair.”

“Thank you Rosalie,” Andrea said with a blush as she and Gabrielle put their ‘weapons’ down on a table.

Andrea took a seat, as did Gabrielle and all eyes turned to Kimberley. The girl blushed. She went to Ryan’s corner and ordered him to remove his hands from his head. She held out a hand enveloped by a towel and said, “Spit it out.”

Gratefully Ryan spat the bar of soap into the towel. Kimberley dropped it into the bowl of water and then used the towel to wipe Ryan’s mouth, soapy drool had gathered at the corner of it and dripped onto his chin.

“They always look so miserable after a good mouth soaping.” Gabrielle commented, sipping her tea.

Kimberley maneuvered the boy into the centre of the room and sat down on a sturdy chair that had been placed there. “You’ve never been spanked before have you, Ryan?” the girl asked.

Wordlessly Ryan shook his head, blinking back tears.

“How old are you?” Kimberley asked.

“Twenty, ma’am.”

“My goodness!” Kimberley exclaimed, her blue eyes genuinely surprised. “Twenty years old and never been spanked, well we’re definitely going to remedy that today, young man. By the time you leave here you’ll have just about the most well spanked bottom in town.”

“Oh it won’t be just about, Kimberley,” Andrea added to noises and nods of approval from the assembled ladies.

“Let’s get you over Aunty Kimberley’s lap,” the girl encouraged her charge. “I need to spank you up good and hot for Mum and Aunty Andrea.”

As Ryan fell over her knee Kimberley crossed her legs. Ryan, while slender, was actually quite tall. By crossing her legs the girl had elevated his bottom so that it was the highest part of his body and it also tightened the buttocks, which the girl knew from bitter experience made the spanks sting that much more. Being as tall as he was and with Kimberley being below average height Ryan was at least able to support himself over her lap as he could place both the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet flat on the floor. Some people may have seen the size mismatch as a disadvantage, but for Kimberley she felt that if Ryan could support himself she could concentrate on making certain the spanking really stung, rather than expending additional energy trying to balance him on her lap.

Ryan twitched as he felt the girl’s small palm glide across the insubstantial material of the tight and embarrassing panties she had put him in. “Twitching and you’re not even bare. My, you will be fun,” Kimberley murmured.


“Ouch!” Ryan squealed, he felt every bit of the blow through the one layer he had on and Kimberley’s hand may have been small, but it was hard.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Kimberley scolded, commencing the spanking for real, raining stinging slaps down all over the white panties. “You’re not even bare yet.”

Gabrielle looked at the ladies around the room all watching her daughter deliver a highly competent bottom scorching and sat back in her chair with a proud smile on her face.

Ryan was yelling and his legs waved around. “If you’re like this now Ryan I think we may all need earplugs when Mum puts the paddle to you,” Kimberley said, raising her voice to be heard above his loud protests.

The legs kicked wildly. “For goodness sake!” Kimberley snapped, landing a particularly searing volley on the boy’s upper thighs. “Stop flailing around like that. I’ve spanked children half your age who don’t carry on like this, and it’s all over a childish smackbottom on panties! You should be ashamed of yourself.” During the entire scolding Kimberley did not miss a beat and continued to administer loud hard smacks, she could see redness around the edges of the underwear and feel heat rising from them. He was nicely primed now. Time to get him bare.

Ryan’s tear filled eyes widened as he felt Kimberley’s fingers hook into the waist band of his last barrier of protection. “No, please,” he begged.

“Lift up,” Kimberley commanded curtly.

“Please, miss, please don’t,” Ryan pleaded.

“A spanking is not a spanking unless it is given on the bare bottom,” Kimberley said, repeating a mantra she had heard many times from her mother, usually as she was begging to have her own panties remain up when she was draped over the maternal lap for chastisement. “If I have to ask one of the ladies here to lift you up and hold you while I take your panties down I will do so, but I will be very cross with you and I don’t think you want that.”

With a defeated whimper Ryan lifted his hips and sobbed as Kimberley slid them down over his bright pink buttocks, she lowered them to his knee hollows and then secured them there with a deft twist. That should cut down on the kicking for the bare bottom component of the hand warm up.

The room filled with the sound of a determined palm cracking down hard on a madly wriggling set of rapidly reddening cheeks and the ever increasingly desperate yells of the recipient as a pretty little blonde girl lit spot fires all over the bounding flaming hindquarters over her lap.

“That’s one hard behind,” Kimberley said to herself as she admired the rosy red cheeks in her lap and felt the waves of heat rising from it. She shook her hand to get some feeling back into it. It didn’t hurt as much as she knew Ryan’s rear end did, but it was near run thing.

“Up you get,” Kimberley said, putting her arms around his waist and lifting him to his feet. She saw him about to rub and immediately grabbed his wrists and held his arms to his side. “No rubbing, unless you’re given permission,” she cautioned before taking her hands away.

“Is it over, Miss Kimberley?” Ryan blubbered.

“Do you want some more?” the girl teased with a smile. “I can put you back over.”

“Nooooo,” Ryan said backing away from her.

There was laughter from the onlookers.

Ryan took a deep unsteady breath and wiped his eyes.

“Back into your corner, dear,” Andrea said. “Hands on head, please.”

Ryan stumbled to the corner, his progress impeded by the panties tangled around his ankles, and did as he was told. He had heard from the occasional kid he’d met in various places that some spanking parents and carers liked their just spanked child to stand in a corner with their bottoms on display. It was a reminder apparently. He assumed this was what Andrea was doing and at least that Kimberley girl had stopped burning his bottom.

Kimberley switched places with her mother and poured herself a cup of tea. Gabrielle placed the bottle of baby oil within easy reach and put a hand towel down with it. She set the paddle with the holes drilled in it down by her feet.

“Ryan,” the blonde woman said clearly. “You may take your hands from your head, turn around and come to me dear.”

With a shuddering breath Ryan did as Gabrielle had asked him. He was actually quite relieved to take his hands off his head. His arms had begun to tire. The intense burning of his bottom had eased a little to a dull aching throb. He desperately wanted to rub his sore backside, but also knew that if he did so without permission one of the ladies present would make him regret it.

Ryan turned and looked at Gabrielle seated in the chair, a small smile on her face, and to his shame he felt his member come to attention slowly. There was no doubting that Kimberley was cute and closer to his age, but Ryan had a thing for older women, especially ones as attractive and composed as Gabrielle. She scared him a little, but she also aroused him a lot. The same was true of the brunette, the lady who ran the shop: Andrea.

As the panties Kimberley had made the boy wear were around his ankles the evidence of Ryan’s arousal was clearly evident to all the ladies in attendance. The reactions to the sight varied. Kimberley sighed, Tiffany giggled, Melanie smiled and Millicent gasped. Both Desiree and Veronica wore clearly interested expressions. Tania grinned and Rosalie did her best to ignore it. Sandra and Sharon shared a look and murmured, “Boys!” Andrea sipped her drink and watched how Gabrielle handled the situation.

For her part the mature blonde in the chair in the middle of the room, gave no indication that she had actually noticed any change in the boy, the smile remained on her lips and her sparkling blue eyes were trained on the approaching boy’s face, the cheeks of which seemed to grow hotter and redder with every shuffling step.

Ryan stopped at Gabrielle’s side. “I think we can dispense with the panties, sweetheart,” Gabrielle said softly. “All they’re doing now is making it hard for you to walk. Step out of them.”

Ryan kicked them off, trying to make sure that they didn’t trip him up.

“Pick them up, please sweetie,” Gabrielle said mildly. “Kimmy can you take them and make sure that they’re washed, dear?”

The girl nodded as she stood and accepted the item of underwear from Ryan’s fingers.

Gabrielle patted her lap. “Come on, darling,” she urged. “You get comfy over Aunty Gabrielle’s lap.”

Ryan eyed the sober skirt Gabrielle wore doubtfully. The ordeal over Kimberley’s lap had erased the memories of what she had said at the start. He’d already been spanked, surely he wasn’t going to get anything else? However he had accepted the sentence the judge had handed down, so he had to get over Gabrielle’s lap. He lay himself over it.

“Good boy,” Gabrielle purred, stroking the still warm and glowing cakes settled in her maternal lap. She reached out and picked up the baby oil, she squeezed some of it into her palm and began to apply it to Ryan’s upturned tail. She made sure she had a nice even coat of it over the boy’s rump, giving it the appearance of a sealed coat of lacquer, a nice red varnish.

For his part Ryan had found the oiling not at all unpleasant. Gabrielle had sure, strong fingers and the ministrations of her hands as she covered his still simmering rear end with the cool oil felt nice. He had never been massaged, but he imagined that’s what it felt like. As he lay there, eyes closed and savouring the feeling his member grew ever harder and larger and pressed insistently into Gabrielle’s firm thigh.

Gabrielle felt the pressure from Ryan’s manhood and smiled to herself. That will soon go away, my boy. I think I can guarantee that my fine young underwear pilferer. She picked up the towel and wiped the excess oil from her hands and fingers, she dropped it by the leg of the chair and picked up the paddle.

Kimberley, Tiffany and Melanie had all been on the receiving end of that paddle and the three girls gulped as Gabrielle lifted it and poised it over Ryan’s twitching cheeks. A flat paddle stung, but the ones with the holes, known as Spencer paddles were worse. The holes let out air and allowed the paddle to have much firmer contact with its target. The thin film of oil increased the sting again. Neither Melanie or Tiffany had received an oiled paddling, Kimberley had, and the memory of it was still keen. She almost felt sorry for Ryan.

Ryan had no idea what was coming and he had just been enjoying what he felt was an earned respite and relief after having accepted the punishment he had been assigned.


The paddle contacted the boy’s bottom and he howled and jerked. Gabrielle’s mouth firmed and she tightened her grip around the slender waist. She also felt the erection shrivel up with a good deal of satisfaction.

The blonde lady applied the paddle firmly and chose her spot carefully. She spaced the strokes out, allowing each one to settle in and burn before landing the next one. As the paddle struck droplets of oil flew up in the air and as it lifted away you could see the abused flesh flare crimson. Ryan’s legs kicked wildly, he roared incoherently and tried to roll from side to side. Gabrielle shook her head, and wondered why they did this, it never did any good.  It certainly never made her end a good old fashioned bottom burning any earlier than she intended to. Once she judged that the oil had all been dried and the buttocks in her lap were bubbling like a pool of molten lava she decided that the boy had been sufficiently paddled. She hadn’t spared his sit spots or upper thighs either and they radiated the same shimmering scarlet heat as the rest of Ryan’s back end when Gabrielle set the paddle down by her chair again.

She let Ryan lay limply over her lap and sob. Gabrielle even rubbed his very sore bottom for him. She felt the tenseness leave his limbs and he began to relax a little as the realization that his paddling had finished settled on him. “Do you think you can stand up, sweetie?” Gabrielle asked gently.

There was a blubbered, “Yyes muhma’am.”

“You may rub a little, darling,” Gabrielle told Ryan once he stood in front of her, tears still trickling down his cheeks. To everyone’s amusement he completely ignored his naked state. “Oh dear we have a made a mess of our face, haven’t we?” Gabrielle clucked maternally. “Kneel down in front of Aunty Gabrielle, darling.”

Reluctantly Ryan moved his hands from his sizzling rear end and knelt down. There was a hiss of indrawn breath from the boy as his smoked hams contacted his calves and he quickly rose and knelt straight. Gabrielle grinned, then used a wad of tissues to dry Ryan’s tears and wipe his nose and chin. “Much better,” she purred. “Now you and I are going to take a little walk.” Gabrielle took Ryan’s hand and pulled him to a standing position as she rose from her chair. If Ryan had been thinking clearly he may have looked at the woman’s other hand, which held a sharp clasp knife.

There were quizzical looks between the ladies in the room as Gabrielle led an unresisting Ryan past them and into Andrea’s parlour. Andrea smiled at her guests, stood up herself and motioned for them to follow her.

Everyone assembled on the back porch and grinned as they caught sight of Ryan’s glowing red buttocks and thighs in the garden, watching helplessly as Gabrielle expertly cut two branches from one of the trees in Andrea’s well- tended back yard.

The switches in one hand and Ryan’s in her other, Gabrielle led the boy back to the porch. “Starting the gardening lessons a little early, are we, Gabrielle?” Veronica asked as she and Ryan mounted the steps of the porch. The Kennedy matron answered with a rich and ominous chuckle.

Once everyone was back inside and seated Gabrielle motioned Ryan into the chair that she had occupied. He winced as he sat and his weight settled onto his abused back end.

“Now, Ryan,” Gabrielle began. “I want you to watch this. I doubt that one visit here will be sufficient and next time one of us may want you to prepare your own switch.”

Ryan blanched, but sat still and watched wide eyed as Gabrielle used the small knife in her hand to cut away the leaves and buds from the whippy lengths of wood. She swished them experimentally through the air and whistled through her teeth at the sound they made. Ryan flinched at the sight and sound.

“Come on,” Gabrielle said in a businesslike tone. “Up you get. Bend over the back of the chair, bottom out, nice and high for Aunty Gabrielle and her switch.”

As Ryan started to fold himself over the back the chair he was begging, “No please. Please, Aunty Gabrielle. Please, no.”

“Oh Ryan,” Gabrielle sighed. “A big boy like you begging off from a little swishing. Maybe you should have thought about that before you started taking things from ladies clotheslines. What do you think ladies, does Ryan need a good striping?”

“Yes!” Millicent Campbell answered firmly, her eyes shining.

“I think it’s fair,” Sharon Johnson agreed.

“I think it’s a little much,” Desiree said. “However he does need to learn a lesson.”

“He’s earned it.” Veronica commented.

Everyone else nodded and pretty young court assistant Melanie seemed every bit as eager as Millicent to see the boy switched.

“Well, it seems the general consensus, young man is that Aunty Gabrielle use one of these nice whippy little switches to place some stingy red stripes on your legs and bottom. Straighten those legs and make Aunty proud, Ryan.”

Kimberley took a deep breath and a quick sip of tea. She doubted anyone else there had been switched by her mother. It wasn’t something that happened a lot to Kimberley herself, mainly because it didn’t have to be done very often to get Gabrielle’s point across. It had been one of Gabrielle’s mother’s favoured methods of punishment and the woman had learned her lessons well. She was the shop’s acknowledged expert when it came to switching. Kimberley sympathized with Ryan, and he still had Aunty Andrea’s ‘tender’ ministrations to look forward to.

Gabrielle looked at the two switches she had cut laying side by side and her hand hovered over them as she tried to decide which one to use. She settled on the slightly longer of the two.

“Brace those legs!” she barked, taking up position behind the boy and raising the switch.

It sang through the air and slashed across the back of Ryan’s knee hollows. The boy howled and his legs buckled as he collapsed over the back of the chair.

Gabrielle gave him a moment to compose himself and then ordered, “Back up. Straight legs. Bottom out.”

Breathing heavily Ryan managed to as he was told.

Gabrielle landed the second stripe halfway up Ryan’s thighs, just under the redness that had been produced by Kimberley’s palm and the small Spencer paddle. Ryan screamed and his knuckles whitened on the edge of the chair.

“Good boy,” Gabrielle complimented him, as she laid on her third stroke at the base of Ryan’s backside, right where he sat.

That elicited a roar of pure anguish and he rose slightly.

“These ones are going to really hurt, Ryan,” Gabrielle told the boy seriously, and his racing mind said to itself  ‘Really hurt?’ “I’m not sure you’ll hold position and that will be unfortunate, because I will have to give you more if that happens, darling. Tania, you’re a strong little thing. Do you think you could maybe hold Ryan’s hands and see that he doesn’t stand up?”

The small policewoman stood and said with a smile, “I think I can do that, ma’am.” She crossed to Ryan and looked into his brimming eyes. “Give me your hands, sweetheart. I’ll hold you in place, okay? That way Aunty Gabrielle won’t have to give you any extras.”

Ryan held out his hands and placed them in Tania’s palms. The little blonde smiled at him encouragingly. “Just look at me and concentrate on that okay?”

Ryan nodded and then bellowed as Gabrielle let fly with her switch again and put this one low down on his scorched tail. Tania kept her smile and murmured words of encouragement even as the boy squeezed her hands painfully.

Gabrielle brought the switch down four more times and Ryan did his best to keep his eyes on Tania’s smiling face. The policewoman tried to keep his spirits up telling him that he was doing well and taking it like a man. It hurt her hands when the switch landed and his grip tightened, plus he bellowed each time. Tania was glad it wasn’t her under the switch. As far as one of Gabrielle’s switchings went it was rather mild at less than ten strokes, but she kept in mind that the boy had already been soundly spanked and paddled and he still had to get the brush and whatever else Andrea had in mind, she hadn’t brought The Igniter and a cane from her parlour for the fun of it.

Gabrielle set the switch down and nodded at Tania. The girl let the boy’s hands go. He understood that meant his switching was over and immediately rose, hands clapped to his burning bottom, rubbing desperately, tears streaming down his face.

“You’re allowing him to rub?” Millicent demanded.

Andrea set her teacup in the saucer with a click and fixed the girl with her jade eyes. “Have you ever been switched, Millicent?”

The girl dropped her blazing eyes and murmured, “No ma’am.”

“It hurts, young lady, it is a very painful experience. Aunty Gabrielle has two switches there. One of them is unused, would you like her to march you into a parlour and demonstrate exactly how much it does sting?”

“No, Aunty Andrea!” the girl said fervently, her curly hair whipping her face as she shook her head vigorously.

“Then, I would request that you don’t offer any more suggestions on how we have chosen to discipline Ryan.”
Millicent kept her eyes on the floor and answered respectfully, “Yes, Aunty.”

Sharon Johnson and Desiree Price watched the exchange with interest. Both had dealt with the girl as a high school student and she had been difficult then, it was rather nice seeing her brought down a peg or two. The two ladies wished that Andrea had been in business when Millicent was at school, she may have made a few visits to the shop if it had been in operation. They also filed the information that it looked like the recently married girl made the occasional visit to the shop away.

“Ryan,” Andrea spoke into the silence. “Put your hands on your head and come to me please.”

With obvious effort Ryan stopped dancing and rubbing his seared rear and went to Andrea, hands clapped on top of his sweat sodden brown hair. Andrea put hands on his hips and turned him so that she could see his bottom. “Let’s have a look at the damage.”

Ryan blushed as he became acutely aware that the sternly beautiful woman with the chestnut hair was examining his backside. He felt his manhood swell again and desperately tried to will it down by thinking about how much that switch had hurt. He was partially successful, every time Andrea gently felt or traced the welts that the switch had left on his buttocks and thighs it sprouted again.

Andrea gave the boy’s rear end a playful slap, which despite not being very hard still caused him to gasp and ordered. “Stand in the middle of the room and do a twirl, so we can all see you, darling and admire Aunty Gabrielle’s work.”

Ryan kept his hands on his head and turned around slowly, when he saw beautiful mature female faces like those belonging to Veronica Dixon-Thompson, Desiree Price, the sympathetic therapist Rosalie Sutcliffe, Sharon Johnson, the woman who had sentenced him to this Judge Sandra Thornley, his recent tormentor Gabrielle Kennedy and even the formidable Aunty Andrea herself, he couldn’t help but feel aroused.

“It’s not going away,” Sandra Thornley observed.

“They never do,” Kimberley said with a resigned sigh, indicating this was far from her first similar experience.

“I don’t mind,” Andrea told her guests, some of whom like Tiffany were clearly scandalized. “They can’t help it and it can be rather flattering. However I don’t want a lapful of boy milk and if he’s thinking about that he won’t be concentrating on what Mrs Ebony is doing to his cute little caboose, which is where I want him attention focused. Ryan, can you please go to the bathroom, dear and take care of that?” she indicated his engorged penis.

“Take care of it, ma’am?” he croaked.

“Yes, get rid of the erection,” Andrea elaborated.

“But that means I’d have to…”

“I KNOW what you’d have to do, dear, we all do. You don’t have to tell us, just go and do it, please. You have five minutes and I will be timing it. If you’re not empty by then we’ll just have to do something about it ourselves. Tiffany have you ever had to use the cold spoon method?”

The nurse’s cheeks went bright red. “Ummmm…not me personally, Aunty, but we’ve all seen it done and know how.”

“I’m told that can be highly embarrassing and rather deflating to whoever it’s used on.”

“I think so, ma’am.”

“It’s up to you Ryan, it can be a rap with a cold spoon or something you may enjoy a little more.”

The boy immediately fled to the bathroom, the ladies laughter still ringing in his ears.

“Gabrielle can you please keep an eye on the clock?” Andrea asked her assistant. “Kim, I need you in the parlour to help me get the horse out here.”

Some eyebrows were raised at the mention of a horse. “Horse?” Veronica asked.

“Oh it’s not a real horse!” Tiffany giggled.

“She’s going to use the thing Cameron made for her?” Tania asked.

“Yes, the caning horse,” Gabrielle confirmed.

“She did bring a cane out,” Sharon pointed out. “I haven’t seen one of those since my school days. This is proving to be a rather educational afternoon.”

“Three minutes, Ryan,” Gabrielle called out calmly, after glancing at the clock on the wall.

Andrea and Kimberley reemerged from the parlour, maneuvering a wooden platform between them. Tania and Tiffany immediately left their seats to help the two ladies put the platform in between a break in the chairs that the audience was seated on. The platform had a padded top and straps on top of it and at ankle height. It had a number of handholds that could be grasped when someone was bent over it and secured in place by the straps.

“That’s rather impressive work,” Sharon remarked, sipping her tea. “Cameron Worth made it?” she asked.

“Yes, he did, the darling boy,” Andrea told her friend, taking up the seat in the middle of the room.

“He’s a better carpenter than he was a student,” Sharon said with an impish smile.

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” Gabrielle called. “Are you done?”

There was a gasp from the bathroom and Ryan said urgently, “Yes ma’am!”

“Wash your hands please, Ryan and come back out here, then,” Andrea instructed crisply.

Ryan shuffled out, holding his hands over his privates and the flaming red cheeks on his face matching the ones on his hindquarters.

“I bet that’s a relief,” Andrea said with a smile, looking up at the boy.

“Yes, thank you Miss Mahoney.”

“Oh, we’re all friends here now, darling. You can call me Aunty.”

Ryan blushed again and mumbled, “Yes, Aunty.”

“Over my lap,” Andrea instructed, pointing at her thighs.

“Oh please Aunty,” Ryan wheedled, tears starting to leak from his eyes. “Not more spanking.”

“I won’t ask again,” Andrea said firmly. “You will place yourself over my lap and you will do it now, or I will ask Aunty Kimberley and Aunty Gabrielle to do it for me and become very cross with you. Do you want Aunty cross at you?”

Ryan gulped. “No, Aunty Andrea.”

“Then be a good boy and get yourself over my lap…now.”

Ryan lay over Andrea’s lap and wriggled to get himself into position. “Comfy?” Andrea asked.

‘Yes, Aunty.”

“Well, we’ll soon make it nice and hot for you. Ryan, when you begged me not to spank you I wondered if you ever asked any of the ladies here or the ladies in other places if they wanted you to sneak into their yards and steal their underwear?”


“Seeing as you never offered them that courtesy you don’t get to ask for no more spanking until I say you are sufficiently spanked, is that understood, young man?”

“Yes Aunty,” Ryan started to cry. He raised his head and his attention was taken by the wooden platform that was situated across from him. ‘What’s that, Aunty?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“The wooden thing?”

“Never you mind about that, sweetness,” Andrea said with a smile playing across her generous lips. “You’ll find out soon enough what it is and what it’s for.”

Andrea reached over the boy’s body and she could still feel residual warmth coming from his bottom. Kimberley and Gabrielle had certainly done a thorough job with their roles in this court ordered punishment.

A shudder went through nearly every woman in the room as Andrea’s hand curled around the handle of her famed and feared hairbrush; Mrs Ebony. Even the occupants of the room who hadn’t actually been over Andrea’s lap knew about the hairbrush. Kimberley, Tiffany, Melanie, Millicent and Tania had all felt the brushes weight on their bare bottoms.

Gabrielle had seen it in action plenty of times and her two oldest daughters always spoke about it in hushed and respectful tones, this was despite the fact that Kimberley had her own signature hairbrush, which she had named Mademoiselle Cherrywood.

Desiree’s children told their mother tearful tales about it when they were sent to Andrea for a tanning. The woman thought that the next time either of hers attended the Spank Shop, rather than go shopping, have her hair done at the salon next door or take tea in reception, she may accept Andrea’s standing offer to actually witness the chastisement.

Sharon had seen the brush used and occasionally wondered what it would actually feel like, she’d never said anything to Andrea, but she did have a pleasant little fantasy involving the elegant disciplinarian and that black brush.

Seeing the brush made Sandra think that her teenage nephew was starting to act a little bit too big for his britches and could probably use a refresher in manners over Andrea’s lap, she considered arranging for him to attend next time she sent Melanie for an attitude adjustment.

Rosalie had a hairbrush that she used on her own offspring, but it wasn’t a particularly good one, as she had seen Andrea use Mrs Ebony to reduce a fully grown man like her patient Malcolm Deveson into a blubbering, snot nosed penitent little boy she wondered if maybe she should look at investing in something like Mrs Ebony for her own maternal chastisements.

Although Veronica hadn’t much appreciated Andrea slippering her at the time she did feel a slight tingle on seeing her pick up that brush and wondered if she could also book a discreet appointment with Mrs Ebony.

Andrea dragged the brush’s cool hard flat back teasingly across Ryan’s still shimmering crimson buttocks and watched the trails of pimpled gooseflesh it left in it’s wake. “This is turning into quite an educational afternoon for you, isn’t it, Ryan?” Andrea asked.

“Yes Aunty,” Ryan whimpered.

“It’s been full of new experiences,” Andrea continued, interspersing her words with gentle pats of the brush on the boy’s twitching globes. “You’d never been over anyone’s knee for a spanking on your bare bottom, and now you’re experiencing your third female lap. You had never felt so much as a hand spanking and just this afternoon you’ve been hand spanked, paddled with a Spencer paddle no less, and had to go out and cut a switch for you use on your naughty little behind. Now you’re going to get your first ever hairbrush spanking and I can promise you my fine little thief that it is not something you will forget in a hurry.”

Ryan closed his eyes tight and tried to prepare for the onslaught, unconsciously he clenched his cheeks. Andrea looked down and her brow furrowed. She used her free hand to tickle and tease the base of Ryan’s buttocks and the globes relaxed and loosened. Andrea sighed in satisfaction and the brush rose in the air.


Not a second after the back of the brush had impacted with a nice meaty sound on Ryan Smith’s blazing right hemisphere the boy tensed over Andrea’s lap and howled. The roar of extreme displeasure brought a smile to every lady in the room. Before the sound of the first yell had left the air the brush cracked down over the left cheek and Ryan bellowed again.  The first two blows delivered to her satisfaction Andrea settled herself into a steady rhythm. Ryan writhed and squirmed, he kicked and wriggled, he shouted and cried, he begged and pleaded, but nothing he did or said prevented Mrs Ebony’s relentless fiery onslaught.

As the ladies in the room watched the punishment some were transported. In the case of Kimberley and Tiffany they remembered their own sojourns over Andrea’s lap, their tender bottoms under that very same hairbrush. Rosalie pictured Malcolm’s mature firm rear end reddening as Andrea ministered to him.  Sharon recalled doing something similar to a rebellious male student early in her teaching days when educators had still been allowed to administer corporal punishment to their charges when they saw fit. Veronica licked her lips as she had a little daydream in which she and Ryan changed places. Millicent Campbell’s bottom twitched in sympathy as she recalled putting on a similar performance not that long ago.

“Well, I think you’re cooked, sweetheart,” Andrea said with satisfaction, admiring the effects of her brushwork on the canvas of Ryan’s bottom. She set the brush aside, used a lace handkerchief to dab at the sheen of perspiration on her forehead and then rested her hand gently on the sizzling cakes nestled in her lap. “Ohhhh, they’re very hot,” she breathed. “We almost don’t need a fire in the room, even though it is a little chilly out. We could just stand you in the fireplace and we’d be toasty in no time at all, sweetie.”

Ryan’s response was to cry bitterly. Andrea helped the boy to his feet and enfolded him in a maternal embrace, he blubbered into her shoulder while she held him and gently rubbed his fire hydrant red buttocks.

“Gabrielle, Kim,” she asked the Kennedy mother and daughter. “Could you please move the chair out of the way and put the horse in its place?”

Knowing what Andrea had planned the ladies gave her a smile and did as she had requested without comment.

Andrea, Gabrielle and Kimberley aside, only Sharon had ever seen a caning horse used in the past. Even Sharon only had a nodding acquaintance with them and she’d only glimpsed one of her old headmistresses putting an unfortunate student on the device, prior to striping his backside with her cane. Veronica’s father had told her horror stories of them at his old boarding school, but they’d fallen out of use by the time he attended, his stories came from his own father. Sandra had seen pictures of them in old books detailing bygone judicial punishments, but she had never thought she would be sentencing anyone to a time on one.

Once the piece of furniture was in position Andrea helped Ryan up to it. “You remember you asked what this was, Ryan?” she asked him.

He nodded with a sob.

“You’re about to find out, darling. Now bend over for Aunty, please. That’s a good boy, lay your tummy on the top. Your feet can still touch the floor? Excellent.”

Ryan wriggled a bit on the padded top of the bench and tried to get his breathing under control. His rear end hurt abominably. He had thought that paddle of Gabrielle’s was about the worst thing ever, Andrea’s hairbrush had it beaten hands down. He’d hoped that would be it, but he now knew that wasn’t the case and this weird bench seemed to be a new horror.

Andrea knelt down, spread Ryan’s legs and fastened the straps around his ankles. “Can you try and kick for me, sweetness?” she asked sweetly.

Ryan tried to kick his legs and found that the straps around his ankles wouldn’t let him move them very far.

“Oh good, they’re secure, but not too tight. Now bend right over and grab the bar. Good boy. You can let go if you like, but I’d personally advise to keep holding on.”

Satisfied that Ryan was sufficiently secured, Andrea smiled at her audience. “Now we come to the audience participation part of the performance.”

Gabrielle and Kimberley exchanged smiles, and the ladies all looked at each other in surprise.

“While Gabrielle, Kimberley and I are professional disciplinarians, or as Kim likes to call us and herself; discipline consultants, we weren’t the ones wronged here.”

“He took panties off your line, Aunty,” Melanie pointed out.

“True, but Kimberley and Tania caught him, Melanie, but thank you for remembering that, sweetheart. Ryan stole from you and some of Tiffany’s friends, and Sharon, Desiree and Millicent, even Veronica. He was very rude to Tania when she apprehended him and he caused Sandra some work she never should have had to do. You all deserve a measure of revenge.”

Mouths dropped open around the room, none of the ladies had ever thought they’d get this opportunity.

“Kim, could you please oil Ryan’s bottom, darling?”

“Delighted,” Kimberley said with a broad smile picking up the bottle of baby oil and approaching the scarlet bottom fastened down over the caning horse.

“Most of you know about The Igniter,” Andrea said picking up the feared strap and raising it. A shudder went through some of the women that had actually felt it. “It’s a good size strap. It stings enough when applied to an unoiled bottom, than feeling is increased when you oil the bottom before administering it. That’s what you are going to do to Ryan. Each of you will be permitted to administer two strokes. I would advise delivering them with a vertical swing, that way you’ll get a cheek with each swat. We can reoil him if it looks like the coat is being burned off and he’s not getting the full stinging benefit. I had thought we’d do this in order of age. Oldest first and youngest last. Is everyone good with that?”

The shocked audience nodded slowly.

“I didn’t mention you Rosalie,” Andrea said to the therapist. “Do you want a turn?”

“No, Andrea,” the lady demurred. “I think it’s better I’m here as an onbserver.”

“She can have my go, Aunty,” Tiffany said.

“You don’t want to strap him, Tiffany?”

“Well, yes I do,” the girl said softly. “He deserves it for what I did, but I just don’t think I can.”

Andrea hid a smile. Tiffany was a lovely child, but very gentle. “Well, darling, see how you feel when it’s your turn. If you can’t maybe Dr Sutcliffe will step in as a proxy, are you okay with that, Rosalie?

“I think I could deal with that, yes,” the therapist agreed with an encouraging smile at Tiffany and thinking that maybe the girl could use her assistance in a professional capacity.

“He’s done, ma’am!” Kimberley announced, stepping back to admire Ryan’s glistening scarlet buttocks.

“Good job, darling,” Andrea complimented her young assistant. “Who’s going to open proceedings?”

Sharon got to her feet. “Unless I’m very much mistaken I think I may be the ‘old lady’ of the group here.”

“Oh Sharon, nonsense,” Andrea said, handing the school principal The Igniter. “You may have the edge on the rest of us, but you are in no way an old lady.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sharon said, which got a giggle from the others.

Andrea, Gabrielle and Kimberley took up positions around the room so that they could view the punishment and offer advice and assistance if it was required.

Gabrielle remarked as Sharon took up position that she seemed to know what she was doing. “Yes,” the woman said as she lined Ryan’s rear up. “Before they banned it I was the school discipline mistress at one of my early positions. This isn’t the first bottom I’ve set alight with a strap.”

As she raised The Igniter for it’s opening swat of the afternoon Sharon appreciated how the platform Ryan was secured to had been designed to be used with his legs well apart, which separated his cheeks nicely and ensured that the strap or cane, maybe even a large paddle would get maximum coverage of the buttock area. She had decided to apply the length of leather in her hand using a vertical strike as Andrea had suggested, as that would ensure that she gave a stripe of fire to each glowing globe.

Ryan only felt the impact dimly at first, but even then it cracked loudly throughout the room and drove his thighs forward into the bench. He threw back his head and howled as his left cheek ignited feeling like Sharon had just kindled a particularly fierce fire on it.

“Now ladies,” Andrea said as Sharon wound up for her second swat. “I hope you were all paying attention, because that’s the best way to deliver The Igniter in a situation like this. The horse gives us a full target of each of Ryan’s cheeks to aim at. A vertically administered stroke will localize the pain and that always stings that little bit more.” The elegant disciplinarian had to raise her voice to be heard above the crack of the strap and Ryan’s answering bellow.

While Ryan regained his breath and loosened his grip on the handholds Sharon handed the strap to Sandra with a whispered, “Good luck.”

Sandra nodded, she had no experience of using a strap, but she was a quick study and she could see the theory behind it. Although her strokes weren’t as hard or as expertly administered as Sharon’s had been Ryan’s reactions were every bit as loud and animated. Gabrielle even remarked that it was just as well for young offenders that judges were no longer allowed to administer corporal punishment personally. “Yes, I’d probably have a nick name like Thrashing Thornley if that were the case,” Sandra joked as she gave the strap to Veronica.

The wealthy woman took a different tack and she actually swung the leather upwards, which connected with the under hang of Ryan’s buttocks, which was an area that not one of the four strokes already received had contacted before, so it got extra loud screams and lifted the boy onto his toes.

“That was novel, Veronica,” Andrea commented. “Just be careful that your aim isn’t off, you wouldn’t want to hit the poor boy between the legs accidentally.”

Veronica nodded and let Desiree take The Igniter from her. The mother and teacher looked at the item rather distastefully and sighed. She really didn’t want to do this. In her opinion the boy had been sufficiently punished, but she did respect Andrea’s judgment and Sandra as a judge didn’t seem to think it was excessive, nor did Rosalie as a medical professional. In deference to her feelings about the whole thing she gave her allotted two swats quickly and horizontally which she felt wouldn’t cause the same sort of discomfort as the other kind. Ryan squirmed and yelled as the dark skinned beauty hit him, but it was clear that her two weren’t as solid.

“We need to reoil him, ma’am,” Kimberley announced as Tania took the strap from Desiree.

While the pretty blonde teenager was slathering more oil onto the boy’s abused buttocks, Desiree took a seat next to Tiffany and asked, “Can he take much more?”

The girl cast an appraising look over the backside on display and said, “The bottom is really made for this, ma’am. You can take a lot, really. The skin isn’t broken and I’m sure Aunty will make sure it isn’t.”

“It must hurt, though,” Desiree pressed.

“Oh yes,” Tiffany agree. “A lot. I doubt he’ll sit down tonight. He’ll be bruised tomorrow and his bottom will probably be swollen, but he did something really really wrong, ma’am.”

The nurse’s words did help Desiree a little, but she still wore an uncertain frown as she refilled her teacup and Ryan’s roars hit the air when Tania cracked the strap soundly across his out thrust derriere.

“You only get two, Millie,” Andrea warned the eager eyed girl as she stepped up.

“Yes Aunty,” she said obediently and then slashed the strap down.

Ryan let out a hoarse sobbing yell.

“That’s for coming into my yard!” Millicent said. She slammed her second stroke into the opposite buttock and before Ryan’s roar of protest had died on the air said, “That was for ruining my favourite pair of knickers!”

Melanie was still giggling at Millicent’s comment when she took The Igniter from the incensed girl’s hand. The pretty court assistant copied Veronica’s technique and if anything she placed them even better. Ryan’s legs buckled at the end of her double. Had he not been supported by the bench under his stomach and the straps around his ankles he probably would have fallen.

Tiffany looked at The Igniter in her hand with a worried frown, she held the strap like it was a live snake. She looked from it to the blazing backside over the horse, and then she started to cry. “I can’t do it, Aunty,” she wept.  “I just can’t.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Andrea reassured the sobbing girl, taking her in a gentle embrace and giving the strap to Rosalie. As Andrea led Tiffany to the bathroom to let her have a cry and clean her face up she could hear Ryan responding to Rosalie’s strap strokes and then Gabrielle organizing everyone and offering further refreshment if anyone felt the need.

When Andrea brought Tiffany back into reception everyone else had taken a seat and Ryan lay sobbing limply over the horse. Gabrielle had placed the cane over the small of the boy’s back.

“Thank you,” Andrea said to her friend and part time employee as she saw Tiffany back into her seat and Desiree gave her a motherly hug.

“I don’t very often do this,” Andrea informed both her audience and the unfortunate young man draped over the caning horse. “However this is a special situation and I think it called for harsh measures. Some of you may think it’s too harsh, but I want word about this to circulate around town and dissuade anyone else from doing something similar.” Heads nodded in agreement.

“Having felt that cane, Andrea,” Veronica admitted with a blush. “I think I can say that at least one person won’t ever reoffend.”

“Kimberley,” Andrea said to her assistant. “Can you please face Ryan, count for me and help him through this, please?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied, and trotted around to the other side of the horse. She knelt down so that Ryan could look directly into her eyes and said, “Ryan honey, just look at me okay. I know I’m probably all blurry because you’re crying. Aunty canes very hard and it will hurt a lot, but if you just look at me and listen to my count we’ll get you through this, okay?”

Ryan couldn’t speak, but his brief nod told Kimberley that he had heard and understood her.


The first stroke of the cane bit into Ryan’s bottom and he screamed, throwing his back and droplets of sweat flying into the air from his longish hair.

“One!” Kimberley announced.

The cane sang through the air again and found its target. Ryan bellowed. “That’s two, darling,” Kimberley said encouragingly. “We’re getting there.”

“Three!” Kimberley called to be heard over Ryan’s roars. “Good boy!”

The marks flared as Andrea laid on the next stroke.

“Four! You’re doing really well.”

Andrea delivered her fifth and sixth stroke in quick succession and Kimberley barely had time to count them both. “I think he’s done,” Andrea said, dropping the cane on the table. “Can you take him to the change room please Kim, get his face cleaned up and him dressed again.”

Kimberley unstrapped Ryan and led him to the room, half supporting his weight on her small frame.

“I don’t envy him trying to put undies and jeans on over that backside,” Melanie said.

“At least his aren’t very tight,” Tiffany said.

“I made that mistake once,” Tania remarked, then rubbed her rear end and said. “Ouch!”

“Can I have one of those pink cushions for Ryan?” Veronica asked.

“Of course,” Andrea agreed. “If you don’t want it immediately I can get Kimberley to personalize it and Ryan can pick it up on his next visit.”

“Okay, I’ll send the money with him.”

“Next visit?” Desiree asked.

“Oh yes,” Rosalie said. “Ryan’s a repeat offender. It’s ingrained behaviour. Without reinforcement he’ll fall back into a pattern of behaviour.”

“I’ll be surprised if he ever sits down again,” Desiree sniffed.

Gabrielle laughed, “Dessie, he will. Backsides recover quicker than you’d think. They were made to be spanked. I doubt he’d ever need another session like this, but he will be here regularly until everyone is satisfied he’s reformed.”

Roaalie nodded. “He’ll see me once a week and I’d think that for a couple of months every second visit will include some overlap therapy from Andrea or one of her very capable assistants.”

“He’ll be pampered tonight,” Veronica said with a smile as Kimberley lead a limping and dressed Ryan back out into reception. “My maids quite like him. We’ll make sure he has a nice hot bath, a big pillow to sit on at dinner and he’ll sleep on his tummy in the big house for a few nights until he can take up his duties with Mr Higgins and move into the cottage.” The woman put an arm around the blushing boy and led him out of the shop, speaking softy to him and telling him how he had entered a new phase of his life.