Before I announce January's SotY nomination I must confess to being more than a little disappointed. I decided to continue with the SotY because people seemed to like the fun of it last year and the story I penned about Miley Cyrus and her mother accepting the award.
I did have misgivings. It never achieved the sort of support I had hoped for or the participation levels I wanted. In an effort to stimulate some sort of response if it continued I changed things up a little. January is a month to nominate a deserving woman as was the case with the award originally.
Next month will be a male nominee and March may be a spanker, I haven't decided if that will be a male or a female or open to both genders.
I received a grand total of TWO nominations and one of those was from last year when I hadn't decided about the award's future. I eventually cast the deciding vote and the honour this month goes to Australian Open semi finalist Eugenie Bouchard.
For those of you who are scratching your heads asking Who? This is a picture of the 19 year old Miss Bouchard, celebrating a winning shot with a heart felt fist pump. She's a rising star of the tennis world and it won't be long before she's contesting and winning Grand Slam finals.
Now why would such a talented and attractive young lady find herself in this Rogues Gallery? Well, after a win during the Australian Open she was asked who she fancied in the entertainment or sports world and her answer was disappointingly Justin Bieber. Now this was admittedly before the 'Biebs' most recent indiscretion, but follower Barbara and I decided that what Eugenie needed to dissuade her from making a significantly bad life decision was a good hard hand spanking over Aunty's lap, followed by a lengthy chat with Mrs Ebony and maybe even a paddling or a strapping if we still haven't shown her the error of her ways.
The object of Miss Bouchard's affection. Really Genie? Is it because you're both Canadian?
Genie's devoted, mostly male supporters; the so called Genie Army. They must have been even more disappointed than Barbara and I were when Genie announced who she carried a torch for.
She made a friend on her recent visit to Australia. Stick to cuddling wombats Genie. They're far nicer than the Bieb.
So next month February is male nomination month. Hopefully that will get a few people making nominations.
Just a note, if you want to nominate you can comment on a post, this one or any other one after it during the month of February. You can also email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Also remember that February is a shortened month, so vote early.
Wednesday, 29 January 2014
Monday, 27 January 2014
Seegee has been a busy boy, while I've been looking for nominees for this month's SotY (surely there must be some!) and completed a new standalone story. Please enjoy what happens to two naughty teens who try to act older than they really are and are discovered by an unimpressed mother.
From My Spanking Roommate. Ferris is upended over the lap of her best friend's mother.
From Spanked Call Girls. 'Jennykins' gets her behind toasted.
From Spanking Dollars. Ferris is not enjoying this one bit.
From My Spanking Roommate. Ferris is upended over the lap of her best friend's mother.
From Spanked Call Girls. 'Jennykins' gets her behind toasted.
From Spanking Dollars. Ferris is not enjoying this one bit.
Ferris looked at her best friend Jenny Sandilands, her bottom teeth worrying her upper lip and asked, “Are we really in for it?”
The dark haired fifteen year old sighed, rolled her eyes and said, “I think so. The only other time I’ve seen Mum that steamed was the night with Daniel and his Dad’s car.”
“Oh yeah,” Ferris replied, her blue eyes distant, remembering the results of that little escapade which had been the very first spanking of her life, administered over her stepmother’s lap to her bare bottom with hand and hairbrush.
“You got spanked for that, didn’t you?” Jenny asked.
Ferris nodded. “Yeah.”
“I got the strap from Daddy, that was after Mum spanked me,” Jenny said. “So glad Dad’s out of town on business.”
“But your Mum is still going to spank you,’ Ferris pointed out.
“Yeah, and it’s going to suck,” Jenny sighed. “It’s better than Dad’s belt. You haven’t had the belt, have you?”
Ferris felt her tender adolescent buttocks contract at the mention of the belt. Jenny was right, she hadn’t yet been strapped, although it wasn’t out of the question, since the night with the back of Rebecca Hammond’s hairbrush nothing was. She’d only been spanked once since that, for breaking curfew. Her father had also been present, but it had been a hand spanking from Rebecca, it had still hurt however.
“If it had just been the movie,” Jenny reflected, “we might have been okay, but the booze on top of that…”
“We didn’t even get to drink much,” Ferris said with a sigh, thinking of the one mouthful of Tequila she had managed before the girls had been busted by Brenda Sandilands.
The girls stopped talking as the bedroom door opened and Brenda Sandilands stood in it. “I’ve called your Mum, Ferris love,” she told the girl. “You two can stay in here until Mrs Hammond and I have discussed how we’re going to handle this.”
Ferris swallowed hard and said in a soft voice, “Yes Mrs Sandilands.”
“Oh we’re so in for it!” Jenny moaned as the door closed with a click behind the back of Brenda Sandilands.
“If it had just been the adult movie I’d have been tempted to suggest that you just paint their bottoms a nice hot pink,” Rebecca Hammond said, sipping her coffee and setting the cup down on Brenda Sandilands kitchen table.
“Oh believe me, Rebecca,” Brenda said, filling her own cup. “I would have done exactly that. In fact I think I pulled a similar stunt when I was their age and that’s what happened when I got found out, but the alcohol adds a whole new dimension to it.”
“Yes, it does,” Rebecca agreed. “I never tried that until I was legally allowed to drink. My parents reaction did not bear thinking about.”
Despite the situation Brenda laughed. “I was the same. My older brother came home drunk one night when he was sixteen. My parents let him sober up before punishing him, but seeing what happened to him dissuaded me from trying it out.”
“The strap?” Rebecca hazarded a guess.
“After a hand and hairbrush spanking,” Brenda confirmed. “He was grounded for two weeks as well. I think he was just about ready to sit down comfortably by the time the grounding ended.”
Rebecca winced. “I’m a little reluctant to go that far with Ferris, although she definitely does need a hot bottom for this.”
“Oh, I totally agree, Rebecca,” Brenda said firmly. “Barry would be all for whaling on her with his belt…”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“After I’ve disciplined Jenny, yes, but he’ll have cooled down by the time he gets home and if Jenny tells a convincing enough tale of woe he won’t take the strap to her.”
“Oh good,” Rebecca said. “I like Jenny and much as I hate to admit this I think the booze was probably Ferris’ idea.”
“That may be the case,” Brenda admitted, “but Jenny didn’t have to go along with it and she’s said that the movie was her contribution to this whole thing.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows came together in a frown. “Have they even said why they wanted to see that film?”
Brenda sighed. “It’s largely the same old story, Rebecca. The best way to get a teenager to do something is to tell them they’re not allowed to. That and apparently all the ‘cool girls’ at school have seen this one. What Jenny and Ferris don’t say is that all the cool girls are old enough that while they’re not quite legal age they are close enough that it really doesn’t make much difference.”
“What sort of alcohol was it?” Rebecca asked.
Brenda reached out to the kitchen bench and set the bottle of tequila with its lurid picture of a charging bull on the label and a distinctive red sombrero shaped cap atop it.
Rebecca’s eyebrows rose. “Tequila? Not some pretty looking liqueur like Midori?”
Brenda shook her head. “They paid a college kid to buy it for them. I don’t think he was too keen on buying a ‘girly drink’.”
Rebecca laughed and lifted her coffee cup. “If it wasn’t hypocritical I’d suggest we lace our coffee with it!”
“Why did we have to buy booze?” Jenny moaned again.
“Oh for Gods sake Jenny!” Ferris snapped. “Wasn’t it you who said Simone Hainsforth told you drinking and smoking was cool?”
“Yeah, but I bet Simone Hainsforth’s parents don’t spank her butt!”
“Oh God, do you think they do?” Ferris whispered.
Jenny couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the elegant composed seventeen-year old bottoms up over a parental lap having her pretty white bottom spanked to a scorching lobster red. “They probably don’t. At least now we can sit up the back of the school bus with them.”
“Provided we can even sit down by the time our Mums are done with us,” Ferris reminded her friend, knowing that her stepmother was out there and not at all looking forward to having to face her.
“Jennifer! Ferris!” Brenda’s voice said crisply from outside the door. “We’re ready to see you two out here now.”
The girls shuffled out to the living room, their heads down and faced their mothers who were seated on the couch.
“Anything to say for yourselves?” Rebecca asked.
“Not really, Mum,” Ferris murmured.
“No, Mrs Hammond,” Jenny said, looking at the floor.
“You could start with sorry,” Brenda suggested.
“I’m sorry Mum, Mrs Sandilands,” Ferris said softly.
“Sorry Mum, Mrs Hammond,” Jenny added seconds after.
“Ferris, what did I say after the curfew incident?” Rebecca asked her stepdaughter.
“I’m waiting young lady. We don’t have all night.”
‘That if anything else happened this year that I’d get a spanking I wouldn’t soon forget.”
“Yes, I did,” Rebecca agreed. “I hope you’re ready to sleep on your tummy tonight my girl.”
Jenny felt her stomach do flip flops at Rebecca’s words. She hadn’t heard her friend’s stepmother scold before. She was world class. Being told off in front of a friend was even worse, it was so embarrassing. If Mrs Hammond spanked as well as she scolded then Jenny felt almost sorry for Ferris.
“What about you, young lady?” Brenda asked her daughter. “I seem to recall your father promising you a hot date with Mr Belt if there was anything else like this after that incident with the car and the boy who didn’t have a licence.”
“Dad’s not here, Mum,” Jenny was quick to remind her mother.
“No, he’s not, but his belt is,” Brenda said ominously.
Jenny went silent and desperately tried to retain control of her bladder. She’d never thought her mother would use the strap, but it appeared she’d been wrong.
“Mrs Sandilands,” Ferris said.
“Yes dear?” Brenda said, turning her brown eyes on her daughter’s best friend.
“Ummm…if Jenny gets the sststrap…” the girl stammered. “Then I should ttoo. The tequila was my idea.”
“Very well,” Brenda agreed. ”I think I can accommodate you there, darling. Rebecca, are you okay with it?”
“I’ve never done it myself, but if that’s what Jenny would normally get then I trust you, Brenda. I think Hank would expect it too.”
“Are you going to tell Daddy about this?” Ferris asked in a whisper.
“Of course I am, Ferris. If he weren’t with Max at the jamboree he’d be here. He may even want to take the belt to you himself.”
“Yes Mummy,” the girl replied, dropping her head again and wiping away a tear.
“The two of you go to Jenny’s room and get into your jammies, then come back out here and we’ll get the bottom scorchings underway,” Brenda commanded sternly.
“The strap!” Jenny wailed as she took off her clothes and retrieved her pajamas from under her pillow.
“What’s it like?” Ferris asked with genuine interest and to give herself something else to think about aside from the butterflies that were flying around madly in her stomach.
“I need to pee,” Jenny told her friend and padded into her ensuite.
“Jenny, the strap?” Ferris reminded the other girl as she put on the boxer shorts she intended to use as sleepwear for the sleepover at Jenny’s house.
“You know what the brush feels like?” Jenny asked Ferris.
“Well, it’s not like that,” Jenny said.
Ferris rolled her eyes, Jenny could be a real ditz at times. “I know that, but what is it like?”
“I can’t really explain it,” Jenny said emerging from the bathroom. “Do you want to pee?”
Ferris nodded. “I better,” and she went past Jenny into the bathroom.
“Yeah, you don’t want to have an accident over the lap,” Jenny said.
“You’ve done that?”
“Once,” Jenny admitted, her face going bright red. “Its super embarrassing and messy. Mummy always makes sure I go to the bathroom before a spanking now.”
“So how is the strap different?” Ferris asked, flushing the toilet.
“It just kind of is, Ferris. It’s not fun,” she raised up on her tiptoes and peered over her shoulder at her bare backside. “Goodbye white bottom, hello glowing red cheeks,” she said sadly.
The comment made Ferris giggle.
“It’s not funny!” Jenny insisted, although she too was fighting laughter. “It’s going to hurt…a lot.”
“Has your Mum ever used the belt on you before?” Ferris asked, laying back on Jenny’s bed and watching the other girl put on her long flannel pajamas.
“A couple of times when I was younger, but mostly it’s been Daddy.”
“So, she knows what she’s doing?”
“Yes,” Jenny answered glumly. “Do you think there’s a class Mums and Dads go to learn how to spank?”
“What?” Ferris asked, shaking her head. Only Jenny could come out with a question like that.
“How else do they get so good at it?” the other girl asked.
Ferris shrugged. “Maybe it’s just one of those things you know how to do, like how animals just know how to survive.”
“Maybe,” Jenny agreed. “Come on, we better go face the music. The longer we make Mum wait the angrier she’ll get. She gives more if she has to come and get you for the spanking.”
“You’ve always spanked Jenny, haven’t you?” Rebecca asked as Brenda reentered the living room carrying her large oval oak hairbrush in one hand and the belt her husband used on Jenny’s naughty bottom in the other.
“From the time she was old enough to understand what it meant, yes.” Brenda admitted. “Do you need a hairbrush, Rebecca?” she asked. “I think I may have another one and if not there’s my old sorority paddle.”
“Oh no,” Rebecca said, reaching into her handbag and bringing out an oval hairbrush of her own. “Once you told me what had happened I came prepared.”
“It’s always better when you’ve got something you’re familiar with. You asked about Jenny’s spankings, I understand Ferris got her first ever one fairly recently?”
“That’s true. It was after the girls went on a joyride with that Daniel boy. You mentioned it to Jenny before. That was Ferris’s first time, but much like you I’ve spanked Max from the time I felt he was old enough to know what a spanking was and why I was doing it.”
“I have to tell you that I am so happy you’ve started to spank Ferris, Rebecca,” Brenda said, putting the hairbrush and the belt on the table and sitting down.
“Happy?” Rebecca asked, thinking it an odd choice of words.
“I’m not happy that you have to spank her of course, but you’ve no idea how often Jenny used the ‘but Ferris doesn’t get spanked’ defence with Barry and I. We never told her, but we were starting to worry that maybe we were out of step and no one else spanked their teens anymore.”
“I don’t think everyone does, in fact I’m sure that we’re probably in the minority, Brenda,” Rebecca told the other lady. “However it worked for my parents and me and it seems to work with Ferris. Goodness knows what Hank was doing before, didn’t.”
“I’ve come perilously close to putting Ferris over my knee a number of times,” Brenda said with a blush.
“Why didn’t you?” Rebecca asked, eyeing off Brenda’s brush.
“I knew Hank didn’t and I felt it was crossing a line. I never got the chance to tell you before, Rebecca, but Ferris used me as a bit of a surrogate mother figure.”
“Oh really?” an interested Rebecca Hammond asked.
Brenda nodded. “Sometimes when she was here she’d tell me things she didn’t think she could share with Hank and both girls have cuddled on my lap together plenty of times. They had this argument one day when they were tiny about who I loved the most.”
“How did you handle that?”
“I sat them down and said that I loved them both equally and if they wanted to continue to argue about then I would get my wooden spoon and to prove that I loved them both the same I would whale the tar out of the two of them!”
Rebecca laughed musically thinking about the two toddlers and imagining the wide eyes when Brenda made her pronouncement. Her eyes clouded over briefly as she considered something, and then she asked, “Would you like to spank Ferris, Brenda?”
For a moment Brenda Sandilands seemed shocked and that was displayed in her smoky grey eyes before she said almost shyly, “Yes.”
“Maybe we should swap daughters for tonight,” Rebecca suggested.
Brenda smiled. “I actually think that’s quite a good idea. Seeing as you’re a spanking Mum and Jenny spends so much time with Ferris then she probably should get used to your lap. I can’t see this being the only time the terrible twosome will earn themselves a scalding.”
“Me either,” Rebecca agreed, “and seeing as you’ve wanted to give Ferris a good old fashioned maternal pants down paddling for some time I think you should be given the opportunity.”
“Thank you, Rebecca,” Brenda said graciously. “I hope you don’t think I’m being greedy here, but you said you’ve never used the belt.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s not something that you can really use on girls the ages of our two without any previous experience,” Brenda said. “I learned by seeing my parents leather my brother and then Barry give it to Jenny sometimes.”
“You think it would be better if you strapped the girls,” Rebecca guessed.
“That’s fine,” Rebecca said. “It’s better for everyone concerned if they get punished properly and safely.”
“I’m so glad Hank married you,” Brenda smiled. “You’re exactly what he and Ferris needed for a very long time.”
The girls reappeared in the living room, now wearing their pajamas. They made quite a contrast. Ferris had reached her full height, but that made her tall for her age and while Jenny still some growing to do, she was going to take after her mother and turn out on the short side, she was also a little plumper than the coltish Ferris. Ferris spent a lot out time outdoors playing sport and it showed in her long tanned legs and arms, her face had a sprinkling of freckles and she had shoulder length straight dirty blonde hair. Jenny on the other hand tended to prefer to stay indoors when she could and her skin was milky white as a result. Where Ferris hair was fair Jenny’s was dark and it was long, thick and wavy.
Ferris wore a long men’s t-shirt as sleep wear, this one had a picture of the TARDIS on it as the girl had become a fan of the British sci-fi show Doctor Who ever since David Tennant had appeared as the time travelling Gallifreyan. Rebecca found it amusing that anyone regarded the Doctor as a heart throb, because the men she remembered seeing in the role certainly didn’t fit that bill. Under the t-shirt was a pair of loose plain boxers.
Jenny had a pair of long flannel pajamas on. They were of a design for younger children and the tightness of them, especially around the girl’s developing chest and full buttocks suggested that they were a favourite pair that she would soon outgrow. Rebecca actually found it rather cute that Jenny still had a favourite pair of pajamas. Ferris liked her t-shirt, but didn’t have any attachment to her pajamas, of which she had a few pairs.
“Are you both ready for a good hard spanking?” Brenda asked in a firm voice.
The girls dropped their heads and murmured, “Yes Mum,” and, “Yes Mrs Sandilands,” were heard.
“Do you deserve it?” Brenda continued.
The girls nodded and mumbled that yes they did.
“Well, now that’s been decided we need to inform you of how this will go,” Brenda announced.
The girl’s heads came up, and the surprise was shown in Ferris’ green eyes and Jenny’s blue ones. It was a spanking, you got your bottom bared, went over the lap and got it smacked until it was hot and glowing red and you were bawling. That was how it worked. Jenny noticed the strap laying on the table in between her mother’s hated hairbrush and an unfamiliar brush of a similar design that she assumed belonged to Ferris’ stepmother. Maybe her mother meant the addition of the strap. She was going to get it for sure, would Ferris? Would Rebecca have agreed to that? Jenny knew from bitter experience that while her mother didn’t use the strap as often as her father did, she could still set Jenny’s buns ablaze with it. Would Brenda strap them both or was that going to be Rebecca? Maybe Brenda would belt Jenny and Mrs Hammond would leather Ferris.
“Come to me please, Ferris,” Brenda requested holding out her arms.
Ferris took a deep breath and headed for Rebecca, then realized that it was Brenda who had spoken. She stopped, confused, looked at Brenda and then at Rebecca. The girl’s stepmother smiled at her and nodded. Ferris frowned, but went to her friend’s mother and stood by her knee.
Jenny’s eyes showed her confusion. What was going on? Was her mother going to spank the both of them? That made sense after all they had done what they did while under her care, but why was Mrs Hammond here?
“You’re with me, honey,” Rebecca said softly.
Jenny turned and looked at her mother, who made motions with her fingers than indicated Jenny should go to Rebecca Hammond.
Once the girls were by the ladies sides, Brenda began to explain. “We decided to swap daughters for tonight. Jenny’s well aware that I think it’s good for a girl to experience multiple laps,” the girl winced, remembering days when she had been spanked by aunts and even babysitters. “As Rebecca is your best friend’s Mum it’s probably overdue, Jennykins.” The fifteen year old blushed hotly at her mother’s use of the childish pet name. “Rebecca clearly agrees with me, Ferris, so you’re going over your Aunty Brenda’s lap for the first time ever.”
With a gentle smile Rebecca put her hands on Jenny’s hips and pulled her a little closer. Jenny knew spankings were always bare bottom so she made no moves of resistance as Rebecca began to lower her pajama bottoms.
Ferris closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she felt Brenda Sandilands hook her thumbs into the waistband of the boxer shorts. “Hands out of the way please, Ferris,” Brenda requested and Ferris lifted her hands. “Pop them on top of your head if you don’t know what else to do with them, darling girl.”
That seemed to make sense to Ferris, so she complied. She felt her boxer shorts slide down her legs and puddle around her ankles.
“You may as well step right out of them, sweetie,” Brenda said. “Then I’ll put you over.”
Ferris stepped out of the shorts and stood there shivering while Brenda reached down, picked up the boxers and lay them neatly over the back of the couch.
“Cold?” she asked as she put her arms around the girl and began to guide her over the lap. “Never mind,” she said, lifting the bottom of the Doctor Who t-shirt and arranging it so that Ferris’ firm tight buttocks were totally unprotected. “Aunty Brenda will soon have you warm as toast, darling.”
Ferris knew better than to voice her thoughts, which were along the lines of, ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
As Jenny was settled into Rebecca’s lap and felt the woman’s long slender fingers stroke and fondle her plump cheeks she wondered how she’d compare to her aunts and the occasional babysitter, not to mention her mother. She didn’t consider herself to be weird, but she’d actually wondered what a spanking from Rebecca Hammond would feel like ever since Ferris had told her about her first spanking from her stepmother.
“Mrs Hammomd,” she said quietly.
“You can call me Aunty Becca if it makes you feel more comfortable,” Rebecca invited.
“Okay,” Jenny agreed, trying to fight down the fluttery feeling in her tummy. “Aunty Becca?”
“I didn’t mean to get Ferris in trouble.”
“I know that sweetheart. I’m pretty certain Ferris didn’t mean to get you in trouble either.”
“I still have to be spanked even though I’m sorry, don’t I?” Jenny asked forlornly.
“Yes, Jennifer,” Rebecca answered firmly. “You do. Your Mummy and I love you very much and to make sure that you don’t make some silly choices in the future we’re going to spank yours and Ferris’ little bottoms up good and hot so that every time you sit down for the next few days you’ll have a very tangible reminder of consequences.”
“Consequences?” Jenny asked.
“It means that when you do something bad you get punished. If you go out to see an adult movie when you’re not old enough to watch and drink alcohol before you’re legally allowed then you get a spanking.”
Brenda was admiring the firm, white globes that were nestled comfortably into her lap. Ferris had certainly matured into an attractive girl. “You do know what you did was very silly, Ferris?” she asked as she settled the girl into position.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry,” Ferris said, trying to mentally steel herself for what was coming.
“Ma’am?” Brenda said. “When you were little it was Aunty Brenda. I know you’re sorry, but you still have to be punished for it. You know about a year ago Jenny would have been spanked for this and you wouldn’t have, would you?”
“No, Aunty Brenda. I would have been grounded, but not spanked.”
“Do you think that’s very fair, darling? That Jenny gets a hot bottom and you don’t?”
“Not really, Aunty Brenda.”
“You are learning then, sweetheart. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for here over my lap tonight, so we’re going to have to make this one really count.”
Ferris winced. She didn’t have Jenny’s experience of being put over maternal laps, Rebecca having been her one and only spanker thus far, but Brenda’s words indicated that this was going to hurt…a lot, and from everything her friend had told her over the years her mother was a world class spanker. In fact when they had been in the brownies together Jenny had once said that her mother probably had a firestarter badge, she earned it by lighting fires on her daughter’s bottom! Ferris had laughed that time, but now those childish words seemed oddly prophetic.
Over the pair of bare adolescent rear ends Rebecca Hammond and Brenda Sandilands exchanged looks and the spankings commenced.
Rebecca had never spanked in tandem with someone else and she was finding it an interesting experience.
When Rebecca spanked she usually did so quite rapidly and didn’t give her victim (mostly her son Max and more recently Ferris, there had been a few babysitting clients in her late high school and college years) a lot of time to relax. That was how her mother had spanked and she’d always found it highly effective as both the recipient and the administrator of the chastisement.
Brenda Sandilands had clearly had a different teacher, because she spanked differently. When it came to spanking adolescent girls Rebecca acknowledged that Brenda was her mistress there. Ferris had been spanked exactly twice and she was the only teenager that Rebecca herself had spanked. Brenda had been spanking Jenny since the girl was old enough to understand what a spanking meant and she was now fifteen. The brunette had not said so, but she gave the impression that Jenny wasn’t the only teen that had seen some action over that ample lap.
Brenda spanked slowly and deliberately, she let each and every slap sink in. The buttock flattened out, the white filled in with pink and bloomed before Brenda landed the next blow. Judging by Ferris’ gasps, yelps and gyrations even this early in the spanking it was effective.
Rebecca took note and tried to match the pace of her spanking with Brenda’s. Jenny winced and squirmed a little, especially when that punishing palm hit a particularly sensitive spot.
One thing that both Brenda and Rebecca did was once they had both bottom and upper thighs glowing a nice even pink they began to concentrate volleys of spanks on the one spot until the girls were squealing and in Ferris’ case begging ‘Aunty Brenda’ to spank somewhere else.
Two sound spankings over Rebecca’s lap and under that stern palm, not to mention the back of that blasted hairbrush, weren’t many when compared to Jenny’s experience, but they were more than enough for Ferris to realize that Mrs Sandilands really knew her stuff. She probably didn’t spank as quickly as Rebecca did, and once her stepmother got going, Ferris barely had the chance to draw breath as the temperature rapidly rose downstairs, but she spanked harder and let them sink in. Then once her entire bottom was steaming Brenda brought into play a technique that the girl was familiar with. She concentrated her smacks on the one area until it was unbearable and Ferris was pleading for her to spank another spot. Ferris lay there miserably and kicked and bawled futilely, she still had at least the brush to come too.
Jenny felt every bit as miserable as her wailing friend, although she wasn’t yelling as loudly, crying as hard or wriggling quite so vigorously. She wasn’t aware of any of that and it was only due to the fact that she was a veteran of a lot more rump roastings than the athletic blonde.
Because she’d only spanked Ferris the two times, Jenny had held out some hope that Rebecca may not be as effective a disciplinarian as her own mother. In fact when she bent over the lap in front of her she had been wondering if she could put on a convincing enough show to fool Brenda. She’d even felt a little sorry for Ferris having to contend with her mother, who she rated as an Olympic medal class spanker if they gave out Olympic medals for it.
Jenny was rethinking that. Rebecca Hammond hit hard, very hard, and she knew exactly where to smack. Before long Jenny was roaring and once Rebecca started to do that horrible thing her mother did where she lingered on the one area and stoked the fires there, Jenny was sobbing and blubbering.
Brenda examined the burning buttocks in her lap, flipped her hand to feel the temperature of them and cooed, “Oh nice and hot. I think this little lady is ready make Mrs Brush’s acquaintance. How are you going with Jenny, Rebecca?’
Rebecca stopped spanking and rested her hand on one of Jenny’s shimmering crimson globes. “Oh yes, she’s simmering nicely. Not quite hot enough to boil the kettle on, but the hairbrush should remedy that.”
Brenda smiled at the comment. “What does grandma say about your botty when she spanks you, Jennifer?” she asked her softly crying daughter.
‘That it should be hot enough to melt holes in the snow, Mummy,” Jenny stammered.
Rebecca laughed. “I got the kettle comment from my own mother. She used to say she wanted my bottom hot enough to boil the kettle on for tea. Felt that way sometimes, although Mum never actually tested it out.”
Brenda joined in the laughter. “I was never sent outside to melt holes in the snow, either, but I’m willing to bet there were times my tender little heinie was more than equal to the task.”
The two mothers reached over the girl’s sizzling cakes to pick up their hairbrushes for the second part of the spanking and as Rebecca’s fingers curled around the handle of her hairbrush, Brenda suggested, “Would you like to swap brushes as well?”
Rebecca paused and said, “Yes, that would be interesting, thank you Brenda.”
The ladies exchanged brushes and the red-bottomed teenagers over their laps took advantage of the brief respite to get their breathing under control and clear the tears from their eyes and wipe their noses, which had started to run.
“This is pretty,” Brenda said, looking at the hairbrush in her hand. “What is it?”
“Rosewood,” Rebecca said. “It was my mothers. It’s a heavy hard wood, so ideal for a spanking brush. I’ve never used it for my hair. I have another one for that, this one has only ever spanked bottoms as far as I know.”
“Mine is traditional,” Brenda said as Rebecca tested the brushes heft and then placed it gently on Jenny’s twitching red hemispheres. “Oak.”
“Oh, my grandmother had an oak brush. I was so envious of it when I was a little girl.”
“It wasn’t handed down?” Brenda asked, trying to gauge the feel of Rebecca’s brush.
“It was,” Rebecca sighed. “My aunt got it when my grandmother passed.”
“Did she use it to spank?”
“Yes, my cousins said so, apparently it was also used for hair, though.”
“Oh that one has never seen a head of hair,” Brenda advised. “Only plump glowing little bottoms.”
Over Rebecca’s lap Jenny sighed. She had thought she may experience something other than her mother’s horrid oak hairbrush. Oak was a hard heavy wood and it stung like fury. Of course Rebecca may not be quite the expert her mother was with it.
Ferris bit back her own feelings. She had been curious about the oak hairbrush ever since a day when she and Jenny had sneaked into the Sandilands’ master bedroom and playfully tested out the feared brush. They’d given each other a smack with it, but it had been one swat over clothes and Ferris could barely even feel it anymore. She idly wondered if her stepmother’s rosewood model would feel significantly different in hands other than it’s owners.
“You can set the tempo this time, Rebecca,” Jenny invited, poising the brush above Ferris’ twitching hot pink mounds.
“Thank you, Brenda,” Rebecca said politely, lining up Jenny’s pretty plump cheeks.
Brenda watched as Rebecca cracked the oval back of the oak brush down across her daughter’s left buttock and as she let the sting settle in, while Jenny’s squeal was still dying on the air, it was matched by a loud crack and an answering howl from Ferris.
Brenda’s invitation to let Rebecca set the tempo for the hairbrush spanking was not at all reassuring for Ferris. She had gotten off comparatively easy that first time and Rebecca had only been introducing the girl to the brush and aiming for genuine tears of contrition and trying to bond the two stepdaughter and new mother. Ferris had found out all about a real hairbrushing the second time. Rebecca took her time with the brush, unlike her hand, and she liked to linger on an area, getting it sizzling hot and stinging before moving on.
“Oh my God!” Jenny yelled. “Please, please Aunty Becca can you spank somewhere else?” the tears streamed down the brunette’s cheeks as she begged. “I think my left butt cheek is going to catch fire!”
Rebecca chuckled. “I don’t think that will happen, Jenny dear, but you do have a flair for the dramatic and your left side has been nicely roasted, so I think I can move on now.”
“What about you, Ferris?” Brenda inquired calmly. “You going to burst into flames downstairs?”
“No, Aunty Brenda,” Ferris said through gritted teeth, although tears were rolling down her face.
“You’d like me to keep going there, then?”
“No, ma’am, please don’t,” Ferris pleaded.
Further wails hit the air as Rebecca and Brenda went to work on the teenager’s right buttocks, intent on making the two globes match.
The girls kicked and cried, their noses ran freely and saliva flew from their lips as they drooled and whipped their heads from side to side. The entire surface of their bottoms glowed a rich strawberry red and Rebecca and Brenda could feel the waves of heat shimmering outwards and upwards.
Rebecca pointed the head of the unfamiliar oak hairbrush towards Jenny’s sit spot and waited for Brenda’s nod before she attacked it. Jenny’s yells, which had been loud before, reached new eardrum shattering levels as her left sit spot caught fire. Ferris screamed, pumped her buttocks up and down frantically and kept telling herself not to swear. Jenny had said that swearing, even during a spanking, got you a ‘soap sandwich’ at her house.
“Oh thank God!” Jenny sighed as satisfied with the condition of the left side, spanked the brushes broad back across the right sit spot.
Ferris had similar feelings, but that feeling of immense relief was soon superseded by one of intense pain as Brenda scorched the right sit spot with fresh waves of burning heat while the left one died down to a continual aching throb.
“Thighs,” Rebecca mouthed at Brenda, catching the other ladies eye. Brenda acknowledged her with a brief smile and a nod before applying the rosewood brush to the Ferris’ upper thighs.
Even though she’d known it was coming, there was no way to mentally prepare for the excruciating feel of a the flat back of a hard wooden hairbrush across the creamy white upper and inner thighs. Ferris threw her head back and bellowed as the brush kissed her upper legs. Brenda watched carefully and followed the pattern that Rebecca tattooed across Jenny’s rapidly reddening hams.
Left thigh, inside left, inside right, right, then back, starting with the right thigh and moving across again to the left. Rebecca had to have been counting as she spanked, because when she put the brush down Jenny had been given twenty four smacks on her upper and inner thighs in total, four to each tender area. They had reddened up very quickly and although they didn’t quite match her glowing backside, there was no doubt in either Jenny or Rebecca’s mind that they had been very well spanked.
If anything Ferris judged Brenda to hit even harder than her stepmother. Of course she had more experience, it was a near run thing, though. Jenny experienced this more than Ferris did and the blonde had gained a new level of respect for her friend and her tolerance for pain, although both girls were teary eyed, snotty nosed messes over their maternal laps they simply lay there and bawled while Brenda and Rebecca silently congratulated each other on a job well done.
The girls were allowed to lay limply draped over the stern laps of Brenda Sandilands and Rebecca Hammond for a few minutes while they tried to process that the spanking was over for the moment and sob. The ladies put arms around the girl’s waists and helped them to their feet. Brenda folded Ferris into an embrace and let the girl cry into her shoulder, while she briskly rubbed her steaming bottom, marveling at how hot it was and the smooth springy consistency of the stinging epidermis. It was different to Jenny, who had a less muscular rear end. Rebecca was doing the same to Jenny, whispering softly in her ear and occasionally pausing in the vigorous rubbing of her freshly paddled posterior to stroke the girl’s thick curly black hair and gentle her down a little.
Rebecca and Brenda gently disengaged from the clinging girls and helped them to their feet, they marched them into opposite corners and urged them to put their hands atop their heads and face the wall until they were given permission to turn around.
Jenny was used to corner time and at least her mother wasn’t like her aunt, who made her kids sit on these hard little toddler chairs. It had happened once to her when she’d stayed over and it didn’t give your freshly spanked posterior any relief at all. Along with the sting and the heat there was this constant ache from your bottom contacting the hard seat of the chair. It was also really embarrassing if you weren’t a little kid, because the chairs were clearly made for small children. Your knees were way up and there was no way to relieve the pressure on your rear end. Corner time was always humiliating, but at least this way the heat got out a little.
Ferris had been stood in the corner as punishment before Rebecca appeared on the scene, although her father hadn’t tried it with her since she was around seven years old, preferring instead to withdraw privileges, ground her or send her to her room. However after that first time Rebecca had reinstituted corner time as an addition to being spanked. It was public and so far she was fortunate that her younger stepbrother hadn’t seen it, although Rebecca had explained that turn about was fair play and if Max ever did get to see her glowing bottom in the corner at some stage, she’d probably get to see his at a later date, because she treated him exactly the same.
The blonde had to admit the appreciated the relief as her bottom cooled down, but the way her stepmother and Jenny’s Mum passed comments about the spanking didn’t do anything to dampen down the fires that were burning in her cheeks. She chanced a look across at Jenny, who must have been a veteran of the post spanking conversations, because although her face was flushed that was mostly from the exertion of crying and yelling while Rebecca spanked her, not embarrassment at her mother and Rebecca’s topic of conversation.
“Is there an art to this?” Rebecca asked Brenda, picking up the strap and running it’s long slithery length through her hands.
Brenda nodded and was unable to suppress a brief shudder as she recalled being on the receiving end of the belt while growing up. “It certainly makes them mind. Our Jennykins responds really well to the strap. Barry actually thinks he waited too long to leather her.”
“Oh how old was she when she first felt it?”
“Thirteen,” Brenda answered. “Barry wanted to start at eleven and then again at twelve, but I got him to wait.”
“Why was that?”
Brenda rolled her eyes. “Men! He first got it when he was eleven. I explained to him that girls are a little more delicate and I showed him that our hands and my hairbrush had a more than adequate response.”
Rebecca dropped her eyes and asked in a quiet voice, “Ferris has never had it, are you sure she’ll be okay?”
Brenda nodded. “It will hurt like you wouldn’t believe, but she’s got a tough little patoot and will get through it just fine. The two of them will probably shed a few tears before bed and sleep on their tummies, but I think I can pretty much guarantee they won’t try alcohol again before they’re legally old enough.”
Rebecca hid a smile. ”That is something I very much hope, Brenda.”
Brenda stood up, the strap in her hands. “You can remove your hands and turn around now girls.”
Jenny took a deep shuddering breath, lowered her hands and kept them from touching her still sore hot buttocks by clenching then into fists. She knew from past experience that to rub without being given permission drew painful consequences. She felt a sick slide in her stomach as she saw the long length of slick black leather in her mother’s hands. She closed her eyes and she could hear the strap singing through air, the sharp crack as it connected and then the band of searing heat across her rump a second later as the stroke registered.
Ferris saw the flash in her stepmother’s eyes as her hands crept towards her superheated buttocks as if drawn by magnet and drew them away with an effort as she willed them to remain by her sides, although the fingers twitched reflexively. She too went weak at the knees as she caught sight of the belt in Brenda’s hands. This was her first view of the famed Sandilands ‘strap’. Jenny had spoken about it in hushed tones and it was the worst thing ever according to the plump little brunette.
Ferris had been at Jenny’s house on a few occasions when her friend had earned herself a meeting with the leather as Barry Sandilands referred to it. Jenny’s beltings had been carried out behind closed dears, but Ferris had heard the girl roaring her way through them and her own bottom had contracted in sympathy with every crack of the belt and Jenny’s answering howls. She had seen Jenny’s bottom after and it was quite a sight and sizzling hot to the touch. Up until this very moment some part of her had wanted to be alongside Jenny as Barry laid the leather on, but now she wanted to be as far away as possible, maybe settling her still hot bottom in a bath full of cool water.
“Couch,” Brenda said, gesturing at the empty sofa with one hand.
Jenny nodded and went to the couch, she climbed up on it and knelt, she straightened her legs and her chubby bottom winked out at the room like a stoplight stuck on red.
“Next to her Ferris,” Brenda commanded.
Ferris inhaled, made her way to the couch, wincing as the fires started burning on her bottom and upper thighs again, she knelt on it and lifted up a little.
“Get good and close to Jenny, please sweetheart,” Brenda told her. “If you hold hands this may be a little easier to get through.”
Ferris’ questing hand found Jenny’s fingers and they twined together. They were kneeling so close together that their buttocks almost touched and they could feel the heat radiating from each rosy red bottom. Through wet eyes Jenny gave her best friend and encouraging smile and squeezed her hand gently. Ferris returned the smile and Jenny whispered, “Be brave.”
Ferris grit her teeth and waited for the strap to land. She heard Brenda order, “Bottoms up good and high girls.”
Brenda stood behind her daughter, spread her feet, lifted the hand that she had wrapped the end of the belt around, lined Jenny’s glowing glutes up and brought the strap down.
Jenny howled as her father’s belt, wielded by her mother, swathed a line of heat down her entire left cheek. Jenny was still gasping when Brenda strapped the right side as well. Ferris’ eyes widened and Jenny’s wail was still in the air when she felt an angry stinging sensation all down one buttock. Ferris straightened up and roared. She had not thought anything could sting quite as much as the hairbrush, but she had just been proven wrong. Brenda didn’t give the girl much time to recover before she made the right hemisphere match the left one.
“That’s an interesting technique,” Rebecca remarked calmly.
“It does get their attention,” Brenda said, moving so that she was in the centre of the two girls. She then swung the belt again. It was long enough that one stroke could cover both girl’s bottoms lengthwise. They got four searing strokes like this. Brenda started low on their sit spots and moved upwards until she was satisfied that the entire surface of the four scarlet cheeks had been covered.
The girls sagged against the back of the couch. Their eyes were streaming and their noses were running, they drooled and hiccupped as they tried to regain their breath.
“Rebecca,” Brenda requested of her friend. “Could you come around to stand in front of the girls? They’ve got another round coming and I think seeing you in front of them might help get them through it.”
“Wonderful idea,” Rebecca answered, getting smoothly to her feet and crossing the room, pausing briefly to admire the state of Ferris’ scorched nates and gently running her nails down one cheek, eliciting a gasp and a shiver from the blonde girl.
“Girls,” Rebecca said clearly, pitching her voice loud enough so that she could be heard and understood over their sobs. “Lift your heads, sit up straight. Show us that you’re big girls who can take what you’ve got coming.”
With effort, the two girls did as they were told. Ferris took a heartbeat longer than Jenny, who had probably endured worse than this. Although it hurt abominably Ferris was glad that at least this first time she had her best friend alongside her to share the experience.
Jenny threw her head back and roared her displeasure out at the ceiling as Brenda scythed those long strokes down across each stinging half moon. “Going to naughty films underage isn’t quite so grown up is it now, girls?’ Rebecca asked sternly.
“No, Aunty Becca,” Jenny blubbered.
“Nooo Mummmy!” Ferris howled as Brenda strapped her bottom again.
Behind the girls Brenda held up four fingers, Rebecca nodded and encouraged the two miserable teenagers. “C’mon girls be brave, only four more.”
“It hurts, Mum,” a broken Ferris whimpered.
“It is supposed to young lady,” Rebecca lectured emotionlessly as another bellow was wrung from her stepdaughter by Brenda’s swinging strap.
“Underage girls do not drink,” Rebecca continued as Brenda laid on the next stroke and the girls wailed miserably.
BANG! The strap struck home right in the meatiest part of the girl’s out thrust buttocks and the loud crack even made Rebecca flinch. The girls deserved every stroke that Brenda was laying on, but she was still glad it wasn’t her.
CRACK! The last stroke seemed to be the loudest and the hardest. Brenda had put every bit of strength in her strong right arm into it and the girl’s animated reaction was testament to that. Brenda dropped the strap to the table and Ferris and Jenny collapsed over the couch sobbing inconsolably.
After the girl’s crying had died down a little the two mothers helped them off the couch, dried their tears and cleaned their faces. They put the girls face down over their laps and with aloe and some cool water gently massaged and soothed the blazing rear ends, before a long cuddle and putting them to bed on their tummies to cry themselves to sleep and vow to never drink again.
As Rebecca put her hairbrush back in her bag and got ready to leave, she would return in the morning to pick Ferris up, Brenda said, “I’m not at all ashamed or embarrassed to admit that was quite satisfying.”
Rebecca smiled. “It was harsh, but I think it’s something Ferris has had coming for some time and if maybe Hank had spanked her or allowed you to do it for him it may not have been needed tonight.”
Brenda nodded. “It looks like the girls aren’t the only ones who like to be partners in crime.”
Thursday, 23 January 2014
Spanking isn't just about the act itself. That is the most important part, granted, but there's more to it than that.
The spanking starts well before you bend over the knee or across a table or over a bed, it also continues after you've had your naughty bottom well reddened.
Today I'm going to discuss the immediate aftermath of the scene that provides our banner for this series of articles.
A lot of people, not all mind, but a lot, do like to display the bottom post spanking. There are a whole host of reasons as to why this is done. It gives the freshly spanked boy or girl time to ponder their actions and punishment it earned them. It allows them to settle down a little after what is generally an emotional and dramatic experience. It lets the bottom cool down. There also other reasons.
The accepted form is with the recipient sobbing quietly facing a corner or a wall. I like to ensure that the nose is pressed against the wall and people have their own methods for ensuring this. Some draw a circle on the wall where the naughty one is supposed to press their nose into. I've never really liked this, one you have to draw on your wall and secondly it doesn't allow for differences in height and you don't really know if they're complying. I used to use a coin and make them hold that on the wall with their nose, it makes a sound if dropped, but they put pressure on a nose and you have to have a small enough coin handy. I've taken to using a bell attached to a ribbon. If the ribbon drops, the bell rings, and I know that a reheating is needed, also if the ribbon gets a little messy (snotty noses do run), then it's easily and inexpensively replaced. Kimberley used to complain that handling the snotty coins was 'disgusting'.
I'm going to show a number of different poses and ways that freshly spanked bottoms can be displayed. My first three are from JPC. They're not drawings, either. Among his talents JPC can count photography.
He's run the gamut here. We have two girls seated after their spankings. Both have their bottoms on full display as one is sitting on a piano stool (I do have to wonder if she was spanked for not learning her scales and arpeggios) and the other is on a hard wooden stair rail. The third is of two girls who have been bent at a slight angle that pushes their rosy red rumps out fetchingly and the lady with them seems to be enjoying herself by squeezing gently and feeling the heat.
The two girls who have been seated bring up another issue of post spanking display or punishment. The girl on the piano stool has a slightly padded surface to rest her behind, but the girl on the stair rail has a double issue. One the surface is quite hard, wooden and unforgiving, two is that she has to keep her posture so that she doesn't topple off her precarious perch. I may have to see if the foot of the stairs at the shop would be suitable for this.
Sitting and standing aren't the only way to do this, though:
Sarah from English Spankers has been kind here, after spanking the girl she has allowed her to rub her freshly scorched cheeks, although she has made her stand in the middle of the room, which can be highly embarrassing.
This one I find interesting, it's of an in progress spanking, and you can see the girls administering it have pulled those tight panties up to get more bottom to spank. I assume she'll be required to stand there after, still wearing them. Displaying after, while wearing panties or even a nice tight pair of jeans or slacks is not unheard of. It does still display a pert rear and what having snug underwear or pants on does, is keep the heat in. That can be both pleasure and pain. Also having to squeeze into tight jeans or even a girdle can compact freshly spanked flesh and that is excruciating and exquisite.
I really like this one from Sarah Gregory Spanking. After having her bottom soundly spanked by Daddy this girl has been required to kneel on the couch with her red bare bottom facing the room. There's a few things going on here, too. She has to listen to her friend or sister being spanked, but can't really see it, because she has been made face the wall. Hearing someone else get it really does heighten your senses and it's hard to try and forget about how much your own behind hurts when someone else is right there in the same room having it done to them and you can hear the slaps landing and her or his cries of distress. Kneeling is actually a very effective punishment. This girl is kneeling on a couch, so she won't feel it as much in her knees as when you kneel on the floor. It also helps with posture, your bottom has just been spanked, so if you try and lower down and rest your backside on the back of your calves that hurts too, so you tend to kneel up straight.
Our lucky last from Spanking Experience is very traditional. Three freshly spanked young ladies, stripped nude, they actually look like their bottoms have been oiled or wet down prior or post spanking as they're all shiny clean, standing in the corner, glowing red rears on display, hands on head. Lovely.
That concludes this episode of A Good Spanking. Post spanking, think about it.
Wednesday, 22 January 2014
I present to you the fourth and final part of Ebony Whole or Nicole Buys a New Hairbrush by Gemma Smith. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed presenting it and hoping that we can all see some new work from Gemma in the near future.
Nicole adopts formidable poses and looks to deal with her naughty husband.
Ebony Whole or Nicole Buys a New Hairbrush Part 4
Nicole adopts formidable poses and looks to deal with her naughty husband.
Ebony Whole or Nicole Buys a New Hairbrush Part 4
The alarm had barely chirped when Justin had it shut off and was sliding across the smooth sheets to "capture" Nicole in an embrace, her hand slipping under her at the waist, the other arm wrapping over and pulling her to spoon against him. Enjoying feeling her husband from head to toe, she didn't choose to open her eyes at first though she was soon fully awake. She felt his breath beneath her ear and knew he was still turned on, at least a little.
"Hey babe," Nicole said at last, "Ready to start behaving?"
"Hey yourself," came his reply. "Ready to make me?"
A shiver ran through her and she bit her lips to savor the reverberations. Such a challenge made her wonder if he'd be so cocky tomorrow morning, or next time. Still, she more than admired his enthusiasm; she relished it and wanted it to continue as much as she wanted to curb his brashness. "I'm just about ready to start making you, yes, since you ask, though I've already told you it will be this evening." She wriggled her bottom into his lap shamelessly, the panties she'd donned sometime during the night diminishing the effect not a bit. Bright Cherry with Pinky Cheeks, she said to herself, nearly giggling, which would not have struck the right note at all!
"So what is it that I used to do," Justin asked, "that I won't be doing any more?" Was his speech as breathless as she was hearing? Was hers?
Turning over to face him Nicole chose to finally end the suspense. "As I said, it's only a little thing, a less serious behavior to get us started. But plenty to spank you good for, believe me, and don't give me this 'something I used to do.' I don't doubt that you'd be doing it again before I knew it if I didn't deal with it."
"Okay….?" was all he replied.
"I've mentioned it before more than once. You know the way, in the morning, usually, when you use a spoon for your coffee or a knife to make a sandwich and you just leave it on the counter for me to clean up after you?" He left before her in the morning, most often while she was still in the shower and it was not all that rare for her to find an unnecessary mess on the kitchen counter when she was trying to get out the door. "I've told you that I don't appreciate it and you've promised to stop doing it. And you don't do it as often as you used to, I expect the paddling did some good. But I didn't want you to just cut down, I wanted it to stop."
"Oh," Justin said, thoughtful. "I didn't even realize I was still doing it, I guess."
"Well you are."
"No, not a lot. But enough for me to want you to stop. And I'm going to get you to stop by taking the hairbrush to your naughty buns tonight," she informed him. Justin had little to say to that. Nicole hoped that words like "naughty" helped remind him that this was more than half "game," that she wasn't seriously upset, despite the fact that he'd be getting a serious spanking. "You're getting a serious spanking," she said.
"Ah, yes. If… if that's what I need, I guess…"
"That is definitely what you need. And the fact that you do it without realizing it only concerns me more." She heard him gulp loudly. "Now get up and get in the shower before you make us late," she ordered. She knew he was getting excited again, as he did last night, and so was she, but she wanted to maintain a serious attitude until he'd gotten his spanking, and a morning romp, no matter how tempting, would not help that.
Rising as he did Nicole headed into the walk-in closet as Justin moved himself toward the master bath. Normally she'd snooze until he got out then shower herself (while he busied himself with dirtying up the kitchen, apparently) but today she wanted to lay her clothes out first. Pulling up the indigo-and-white flowered comforter, she arranged her navy suit and whitest blouse on top of it, adding her 3-inch black pumps on the carpet below. She'd be overdressed since she didn't have any important meetings or appointments, but she wanted Justin to be visualizing what she was wearing along with imagining himself over her gabardine-covered lap for his first experience with The Correctress. She'd also come home wearing her glasses but she couldn’t figure out how to let him know that now. Much as she wanted to see the look on his face, she preferred to be in the shower already when he came out and saw her outfit, or uniform, or costume for the day.
However distracted Justin might have been throughout the day, Nicole couldn't claim to be any better. Usually they would e-mail or text once or twice after lunch, or call if they needed to make arrangements on the way home from work but she simply couldn't bring herself to wait. "Sitting pretty? Wonder what tomorrow will be like," she sent mid-morning, receiving "I guess we'll have to see. Are you expecting trouble?" Regarding this cavalier attitude as hardly suitable she replied "With the trouble you're in I expect that YOU will be having trouble sitting tomorrow, yes. I am not expecting any trouble in getting you that way." She was very disappointed when she didn't hear back right away and despite assuming that he was in a meeting she wrote again anyway. "You're choosing a very bad time to be ignoring me. Very bad indeed."
It wasn't yet lunchtime when she got his answer, merely, "Oh? This lady really spanks hard, does she? More effective than hardly spanks, no doubt."
Nicole considered this level of bravado to need turning down a bit. "You may think that your lady hardly spanks, but my lady will have no problem spanking hard. In fact, she has a problem doing anything but. You sound like you will take a lot of convincing but we ladies can accommodate that quite nicely." She sent it right when she knew he'd be leaving for lunch so he could read it on his phone but wouldn't have much of a chance to respond. Before she went to lunch herself she followed up with "Ignoring me again? I'll see if I can't hold your interest better this evening." With that she joined her friends Angela and Stephanie to eat, resolving to forget her naughty threats until she returned, at least.
Easier said than done, of course. Even tomato-basil soup and a quartered grilled cheese sandwich couldn't keep her mind off the subject entirely and she had to fight the urge to constantly check her phone. Her friends' complaints about men's behavior, Angela's husband and for Stephanie, who was single, boyfriends of the past, present, and future, only aggravated the situation. When they admired her French braid, which she'd chosen in preference to an old-fashioned bun, Steph asked if Justin liked it that way. Angela claimed that Troy, her husband, would not even notice but Nicole responded truthfully that she had "done it for him." And she was sure he would notice.
Back at the office the correspondence started up again immediately. "Maybe I can put you in a better frame of mind" Justin's waiting e-mail offered. Nicole countered with "Business before pleasure, you bad boy," only to be asked "Oh? New rules now?" This gave her a chance to be very clear. "Yes new rules. Hairbrush rules. You're living under hairbrush law now," she wrote. She loved the concept of "hairbrush law," even if she had no intention of enforcing it.
Never able to forego a bad pun, Justin asked, "Oh? Does this hairbrush tame more than un-rule-ly hair?" This encouraged a reply of, "The only cheeky response I want from you is bright and then dark red. And if you start one more sentence with "Oh" it'll be double!" At last she got a more appropriate response in return, a simple. "Yes, ma'am. Understood." While Nicole assumed that meant that her husband would be busy until quitting time (and that she shouldn't expect any more banter), at least he ended on a satisfying note.
An end to the banter brought on a complete change in mood. What if he actually did hate it, so much that she had to stop using it? Everyone said that a single "trip" was plenty but she and Justin had gone ahead and bought it planning on multiple uses. Ms. Mahony said she even corrected grown men with her "Mrs Ebony," why had Nicole insisted on an even larger spanking-brush that was, in the shop's receptionist's estimation at least, a lot heavier? Maybe she should have gone with a smaller choice or at least started out that way. Of course she couldn't return it, even if it had never been used. She didn't know if you were even allowed to return a personal hygiene product but, rightly or wrongly, she wasn't the type to do that sort of thing under any circumstances. But she forced herself to remember how excited Justin always got when she scolded him and how hot he'd been for her these past several weeks, not to mention last night. She didn't have to recall last night very much at all to want to continue on the path they were on.
As usual Justin was home when Nicole finally got there ("finally" in the sense that the day had seemed interminable), surfing the sports a bit before dinner. They could make an enjoyable meal out of a large Cobb salad, especially with grilled chicken, when it was tossed with enough dressing, though that went a long way in lowering the "healthy" aspect of it. He even offered to grill the chicken but she preferred to do it, sort of wanting to pamper him a bit (plus he'd made dinner last night). Neither of them brought up the subject of his pending spanking but Nicole almost had to laugh at his extreme good behavior and solicitousness, which served as a reminder as effective as anything verbal might have. If he only knew, she mused, how many swats are in this glass of wine I'm having, would he have poured the bottle down the sink? She expected it to steel her resolve for being strict, which did not come at all naturally despite her stern appearance, along with encouraging her to have fun and worry less, which she could also often use some help with.
In the end it made no difference. They capped the bottle and returned it to the fridge before spending an hour in front of the television. As the show ended Justin clearly looked to his wife for direction. Would they watch for another hour and end up getting to sleep late (after his spanking) or start now and be in bed a bit early? Nicole had no problem with the decision. She could barely recall what they'd just seen.
Since getting home she'd removed her suit's jacket but had not even slipped out of her shoes. Rising from the soft brown cushions she announced, "You know what it is time for now, Justin." Her husband's mouth opened but no words came out. "Very good," she praised him, knowing that he had been about to say "Oh?" and had to suppress a smile. "I'm glad to see that your situation can influence your behavior, or your words in any case. Now. I'm sure we're clear on what actions have gotten you into this trouble. What you're going to do next is go into the bedroom, take off your trousers and underwear to get ready for your spanking, and wait for me." They had never used or even considered "corner time" but she assumed that it might be good to be sure Justin was in a receptive frame of mind and her experience was that he became more and more receptive very quickly once he'd been notified that he'd be spanked. "While you wait you'll have the chance to consider your behavior and, while it won't lessen your spanking any, you could truly impress me by being able to tell me why you're getting such a bad spanking, a punishment spanking, for something as seemingly trivial as leaving a bit of silverware here and there."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, looking particularly dejected. Clearly not knowing what else to say, he concluded with a mere "I'll do that."
"And," Nicole interrupted his exit one final time, "you might see The Correctress on my vanity." Actually, her vanity was merely her half of the twin faux-marble sinks in the master bath. She'd been trying to figure out how to get him a glimpse of his new nemesis. "You may look, from the doorway, but not touch, understood?" Justin nodded three times, quickly.
Nicole's other reason for wanting Justin in the bedroom alone for a few minutes was to give herself a chance to remove her pantyhose without being too obvious. Of course he'd find out at some point, but at the moment she was sort of enjoying playing the strict, scary, official-seeming woman. Pantyhose would be fine (however uncomfortable) until his spanking was over, but she knew that when it was she'd want them off, immediately. Better to strip down in their powder room and re-dress now. Also, it gave her a chance to clean up a bit. Her husband was fully aware of how messy she could get while spanking him and he always encouraged her to be comfortable or even happy with it, as he appeared to be, but what would he think if he knew it had started that morning and lasted all day? Better to take a moment now.
Despite trying to move slowly, on the chance that reflection was doing Justin any real good, Nicole was ready to proceed far sooner than she intended. A few deep breaths and a lot of pacing helped soak up the extra time. Two minutes to undress, ten to think? She asked herself, an eye on the oven clock. She hoped Justin was half as nervous as she was. Heading at last for the bedroom herself, she wished they had wood floors in the hallway to make her heels click ominously. The white, six-panel bedroom door was barely ajar but not closed. Pushing it open she was greeted by the inspirational and reassuring sight of her husband, facing away from her, half-clothed and waiting for his wife to come punish him. Nicole let a large unseen smile light her face.
"I see you got the undressing part right," she said, causing him to turn and face her. He covered his groin with one hand despite his shirttails and Nicole realized it was to keep his erection from sticking straight out. She turned and entered the bathroom, the porcelain tiles producing exactly the click she wanted in the few steps to where her new hairbrush waited. Picking it up she couldn't help but give a long exhale that was almost a whistle. What a blistering Justin was about to get!
She would have preferred taking a seat on the bed and beckoning her husband to her but Justin had positioned himself where he belonged in anticipation, in front of her nightstand, to the right of where she would sit. She approached quite close to him, wordlessly reaching past and turning off the bedside lamp that he'd turned on. She wanted his bottom shining brightly but not the light shining brightly upon it.
As she settled in on the bed Justin knelt by her side. Setting the hairbrush down beside her she reached out and stroked his hair, saying, "So, Justin, can you tell me what this spanking is for?"
He acted eager to respond. "For leaving spoons and knives out on the counter for you to clean up. Um, repeatedly. After I've been asked not to."
"And spanked for it," she reminded him.
Justin winced slightly. "I know."
"But not enough. Apparently. But that is a behavior we can, and will, correct." Nicole told herself that she was doing very well. "And as for my other question, what progress have you made on that? Can you tell me why you're going to get such a serious spanking for this?"
"Ah, I think so," he started tentatively. "Like I said, a lot of times I don't even realize I'm doing it, but I can see how it would make you feel that I don't respect your time or what you do around here to keep the house nice. I swear I don't think that, certainly not consciously, but I can understand how you might see it that way."
This was better than Nicole had imagined. She expected Justin to find some kind of greater reason for the spanking he was about to get but nothing as big as this. Still, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she went with it. "Honey, I know you don't really think that way about me." She stroked a strand of hair back from his forehead. "But imagine how it might be making me feel, each time that you do it."
Justin stared at her lap and nodded glumly. "I know. I'm sorry. Very, very sorry."
"Well now you'll have something to help you remember not to do it, whether consciously, subconsciously, or unconsciously. Let's see if we can't get you a spanking you're sure to remember." Moving her arms out of the way signaled him to climb over her lap. He had to nearly stand to do so since her was still fully excited and he needed to arrange himself somewhat on his way down. So much for glum and dejected, Nicole reassured herself. She sat at an angle to the bed, one thigh against the edge of the mattress. Justin laid himself over this leg, torso on the comforter, and wrapped his arm behind her. Nicole pinned his knees down with her right leg and held the wrist of his outside arm behind his back. This would not only help to keep him in place while she spanked him, but would let him know that his spanking was far from over if she paused. When it was time for her to genuinely finish she'd put him over her whole lap, his head near the floor, supporting himself on an elbow. Then, she always told him, she'd make him truly sorry. Except that on this occasion she expected it to be true.
Nicole had let her skirt ride up her right leg in putting Justin over her left. Now, the contact between their bare skin, the inside of her right thigh against the backs of his, as she sought to diminish his kicking was electrifying. Holding the hairbrush there was no ignoring how heavy it was and its shiny surface looked every bit as hard as it had felt. She'd considered starting slowly, maybe with her hand or the paddle, but this was supposed to be a punishment spanking, or a "correction" as she was now mentally calling it. With the paddle her best results had come from starting hard and staying hard, not letting Justin adjust to that spanks, but she was hesitant to do that now. She still hadn't completely decided when she landed the first swat.
"Ah ah ah ah ah!" came Justin's response. He fought to stay in position and Nicole was forced to adjust her grip. Okay, that was about ten times harder than I'd intended, she worried, but her need for symmetry demanded that she land a matching swat on the near cheek and another across the middle. "Jeez!" Justin cried out, but forced himself more into position rather than less. Balance restored, she tried spanks that weren't quite so severe, spreading six across the lowest part of his bottom. Even without the lamp she could see the redness blossom on his cheeks. She did it again, with two extra in the center. "God!" he exclaimed, climbing the theological hierarchy. His leg muscles were rock hard against her thigh and his manhood already wasn't.
Justin's strangled protests (which were quickly getting less and less strangled) and his efforts to keep himself in position were having as much effect on Nicole as his bare thigh flinching and shaking between her legs. She could see how difficult his was for him but he was clearly trying not to resist any more than necessary and the less he resisted (or the harder he tried not to) the more gratified Nicole found herself. She knew that she was spanking too hard to keep this up as long as she wanted and intended to and too hard to attack his tender thighs so, not wanting to ease up quite yet, she focused set after set on the lowest part of his bottom, hoping to give him something to feel tomorrow (and maybe even after that!). As such her one unlucky little target got a good full spanking even before her first pause.
She stopped momentarily and could feel Justin try to force his hand down to console his blazing cheeks even as she easily held his wrist in place. He gave a bit more voice to his protests with a serious of "ah's" and "oh's," continuing to squirm. Behind her, his left hand had gotten a death grip on the waistband of her skirt and he did not relax it a bit.
"Are we off to a good start, baby?" she asked him, wanting to make sure he stayed engaged and didn't try to "zone out" on the pain. He nodded rapidly but didn't answer. "Starting to get the message?" she asked to more nods. "So what will you be doing differently in the future?"
After another moment or two of gasping, Justin managed to say "Clean up after myself" and, after catching another breath, "Not leave a mess in the kitchen."
"Not even a little one, right?"
"Not even a little one," he parroted. "And…"
This ought to be good, Nicole thought with a private, inner smile as she rested the hairbrush against his buns, which had already taken on a dark red hue.
"And respect your time and the effort you make and make sure I show it." Instinctively his buttocks tightened.
"No, no, no clenching. Don't want to make me spank harder, do you?" Nicole warned and Justin tried to relax a little without doing more than a poor job of it. "That's it, respect. That's the sort of thing that can really require a serious spanking, isn't it?" she continued. Again his buttocks clenched but Nicole didn't wait for him.
The new swats weren't quite as hard and she spread them out more but even so Justin was louder and less restrained in his reactions. Nicole didn't mind, knowing that he couldn't help it and appreciating the effort. His thighs had always been tender and she was a bit careful with them, easing up even more and keeping to the very top, but he still suffered visibly. She'd never been good at slowing down the swats very much (nor getting done very quickly) and by now even the lighter spanks on the sorest lower part of his buns made him thrash about, so Nicole suspected that the second phase of Justin's spanking was every bit as challenging as the first.
Nicole had adopted a style of giving three-part spankings and Justin was well aware of this. He also knew that the final portion would require that his bottom be higher and his head lower. His initial movements when the second interval concluded were not in the direction of repositioning himself and Nicole chose not to hurry him. He took several moments of continued motion to settle down enough for her to release him (albeit temporarily) and even then she had to keep a hold on his hands. Still, she didn't see this as disobedience but rather a testament to the effectiveness of The Correctress.
She knew that Justin's bottom was burning terribly and she'd made sure it was sore deep and sure to stay that way. Even so Justin crawled gingerly into position. His excitement had completely vanished and Nicole took this as a warning sign, even considered going easy now. She set the fearsome hairbrush done for the moment and rubbed Justin's well-spanked buns, causing as many gasps of sensitivity as sighs of relief.
"That's my good boy, let's get this bottom up nice and high for me," she encouraged him, smiling to see him respond as best he could. "I'll bet you wish we were done and honestly, Justin, I do, too. But I have to be very sure this is all dealt with, don't I?" Once again her question was met with a series of rapid nods. "I don't want to have to do this all again and I know you don't, either, do you? I thought not," she told him in answer to emphatic head shaking. Despite the state of his poor bruised buttocks she thought she detected him stirring a bit against her lap. She delivered a pair of sharp smacks right where he looked tenderest and he momentarily leapt upward. "But when you don't show proper respect for me," she warned, her voice deep and serious, "I have to deal with it." Her hand caressed the spots she'd smacked, massaging them as he whimpered a bit. "And I will deal with it, just like this." By now she definitely felt him growing again under her scolding words. "I'll spank this little backside of yours, good and hard, and if you forget I'll spank it again."
With that she moved his wrist upward, lowering his head, and hooked her leg over his heels. He hadn't been able to stifle his protests in the middle portion of his spanking and even with his face nearly at the floor he complained loudly from the first firm, evilly-targeted spanks. Now she worked quickly, harder swats on his buns, lighter on his thighs, and the heavy hairbrush carried a solid stroke with little effort even with the faster smacking. Content with the extent of his soreness Nicole flicked the brush (as best she could) but Justin responded every bit as emphatically to the super-stinging spanks as he did the deeper ones. While she knew he was continuing to struggle to stay in place (she couldn't have held him if he wasn't) he wasn't all that successful and this is what tired her the most and the quickest. It even indicated that she'd better stop, before they both ended up on the floor. He'd feel terrible about that and making him feel terrible wasn't really the point at all!
"Wow," she said on her husband's behalf when the smacks finally stopped falling, "That was some spanking. I sure hope you learn to behave yourself, for your sake as much as mine!" He continued to gasp and moan, extended perhaps by her massaging his poor sweet oh-so-sensitive and extensively chastised buns once again (this time without the extraneous slaps). "Think you're ready to get up?"
His wrist released, Justin raised his head, lowering his still-wriggling buns as he did. Rather than rising before her he slid to Nicole's feet, his hands running up her thighs, his thumbs raising her skirt. Nicole had to do little to help. Usually she preferred the slow, deliberate approach with stroking, kisses and nibbles, and had never completely come to accept spanking as the sum total of foreplay, but as Justin laid her back he must have sensed the depth of her immediate need. He circled her button with his mouth, sucking her toward him, flicking her lightly with his tongue. She pressed her thighs to him as she responded instantly, surprising even herself. He backed off only slightly as her satisfaction raised her sensitivity to unbearable levels but he never broke contact, never changed position. His lips brushed the insides of her thighs, the creases between leg and body, barely touching her melted core. Slowly his tongue, wide and flat, covered and spread her, the tip tasting the sweet spicy tang down below. Then he, and she, began again and he lapped her with broad slow strokes. Inside, the bottom of her stomach dropped away and she began to soar once more.
Just as she began to come down he rose at last, filling her deeply and completely with a single stroke, his arms pinning her own to her sides. Driving her further onto the bed he covered and pressed her, his mouth found her neck, his nose nuzzling behind her ear. Pulling herself against his chest brought her own mouth to the hollow of his throat. She gripped him, with her arms and inside, too and hooked her legs around his so much differently than earlier. Coupling.
When the alarm went off Justin tried to slip out of bed without waking his wife but she was having none of that.
"Hold on there, big boy. Let me see," she demanded.
"I don't know, maybe you should wait a few days," he suggested, backing away. When she'd first used the paddle he'd been marked and she'd seriously worried though she had soon gotten used to it. He was very fair and marked easily and they both knew this would be a lot worse.
"No way. I can take it. Lie down, here, now." She edged the sheet down, not wanting to rudely rip it off of him (she hated it when he did that to her) and soon had him buns peeking out. Dark red at the top, sore-looking but to be expected, that part was fine; however, lower down the colors added purple with definite bruises toward the bottom and the center was a bit worrisome. That has got to be really sore, Nicole assumed with real sympathy. The backs of Justin's thighs had a similar dark red hue, some lighter, but it was marked with black-and-blue crescents from the curved edge of the brush where it had landed half-cheek, half-thigh. Nicole found herself slightly disappointed. Somehow she had hoped for a comically bright red bottom that inspired further spanks, even if they were only by hand. Those type of thoughts and these type of marks caused her "evil" concerns to return. He needs to feel this today, but I'll have lotion for him after work. And at bedtime. She smiled inside, knowing where that would lead.
Her face, however, showed concern. "Wow, the brush really did a job on you. Do you feel corrected?" Truth was, she was sincerely concerned. Had she way overdone it?
"Oh God, do I. You weren't kidding about that being a serious spanking."
"I told you it would be."
"And you said that was something light?"
This was what Nicole had been expecting to hear. Justin often accused her of anticipating criticism or hearing it when it wasn't there, but she had reasonably expected him to lodge some sort of complaint. "I might have overdone it some, relative to the reason I gave you," she admitted. "I know that brush spanks really hard." At least, I know that now if I didn't before.
"Well, it's important for you to express how you feel, I know that. And, um, communicate when something I do is bothering you," Justin told her reassuringly. Did she hear a "but" coming?
"But I meant it when I said that I honestly don't do those things from a lack of respect," he continued. "And if I forget or slip up and do it again sometime, I hope you don't think that I don't value all you do around here."
"Oh Justin, no, of course I won't think that. I know you appreciate me."
"Mmmm, in all sorts of ways. I just don't want your feelings hurt."
Feeling playfully strict again, Nicole warned him, "You sound like you're getting ready to forget again. Well if you do now you know what to expect."
"What? No way will I be forgetting anytime soon."
"I should hope not. You had me wondering there." Actually, the idea of Justin "forgetting on purpose" appealed to Nicole immensely. "I may have overdone it a little. I'll make it up to you on your next spanking."
"But for something serious," he started, hesitating to finish.
"It'll be worse?"
Nicole answered with a stern look, letting a second and then another click away.
"I guess it'll have to be," Justin concluded at last.
"Let's try not to find out to often, shall we?" At this Nicole closed the subject to further discussion.
With Justin finally in the shower Nicole pulled herself out of her squirm-inducing imaginings and looked around the room, aware that she should get out of bed a bit early. When she was single she'd never had one of those mornings where it was a challenge to find her clothes, not even with Justin. One shoe had been lost when she was pinning down her husband's legs and the other, she assumed, soon after she'd stopped spanking him. Thankfully all the lamps were still intact. Her jacket was out at the dining table with her panties and hose in the pocket and the skirt was on the floor but headed to the dry cleaner. Maybe I'd better try to deal with it first, she thought. Her glasses were somewhere and she didn't need them today, her blouse and bra were on the floor next to the bed, having come off somewhere in the night, replaced not by a sexy negligee but by an oversized flannel sleep shirt. Justin's shirt was up above the pillows. Next time I'll have him take it off, she told herself. She remembered wanting to watch the muscles in his back. She held it up to her face, inhaling deeply.
The shower stopped and she changed places with Justin, already mentally typing e-mails throughout the morning. So how's sitting? she'd ask him, or maybe kitchen clean this morning?