From the Top Shelf - The English Governess F/M
Today's selection is by our dear departed friend, Rollin Hand. I will let him explain to you how he came to write it.
"Devotees of femdom lit are very familiar with this classic novel [The English Governess] by John Glassco. In it a young man, Richard Lovell, an only child born into a wealthy family, is placed in the care of a young governess, Harriet Harwood. Harriet Harwood is beautiful, domineering and cruel. She thoroughly intimidates young Richard even as he is in thrall to her charms. Richard then learns to his utter humiliation that she intends to punish him physically for his failings, among them, secret masturbation which she discovers by examination of his bedclothes. Her weapon is the cane. She forces him to bend and bare himself for searing strokes with her cane, a punishment he comes to fear greatly. The novel catalogs the arc of Richard's total domination by Harriet and ends with her marrying her young charge, thus taking total control of his fortune.
"Harriet's implement of choice is not exclusively the cane. There is a scene at the seashore in which Harriet humiliates Richard in front of some girls by taking him into a beach cabana and whipping him with a looped bit of cord that she finds. Richard knows the girls outside are listening, and the reader is made aware of his utter and complete embarrassment at being treated like a child in front of them. But mostly, it's the cane with which Harriet terrorizes Richard.
"I always thought that something was missing. It would seem logical to me that she would escalate her punishments, starting with something milder, and saving the dreaded cane as the ultimate weapon at her disposal. This then, is the missing scene."
THE BATH SCENE
Harriet Harwell stood on the bank, hands on her hips, glaring at Richard. She wore a severely tailored suit, a wide brimmed hat, and black gloves. At that moment Richard, in serious trouble, covered with mud, looked up and had the idea that she was beautiful, even in her fury, which was evident.
"Well, Richard, " she said in a clipped tone. "It seems you have disobeyed me. Not only did you not tidy your room, but you came down here, which I forbade you to do. You are filthy and you have ruined a perfectly good suit of clothes. Get yourself out of there this instant."
Richard felt a cold knot in the pit of his gut. Miss Harwell had meant to be obeyed and now she was very angry.
"Get up and come with me to the house this instant," she ordered. Richard meekly pulled himself up. "I didn't mean to, Miss Harwell," he whined lamely, "I was going to clean my room…I didn't mean to get dirty I-I fell. You startled me."
Harriet whirled and faced the whining lad, fixing him with a withering gaze. "Master Richard, I don't care to hear your sorry excuses. You deliberately disobeyed me. I forbade you to play in that pond, and now look at you. You will have ample opportunity to make amends, sir. You will now follow me without delay."
At that she turned on her heel and marched off toward the house. Richard now completely cowed, trudged behind her, his steps plodding toward an uncertain fate. The girls were standing in the driveway as the pair approached. Their faces bore smirks at Richard's obvious discomfort, and Richard could overhear their speculation as he walked by.
"Oooh Richard is in trouble, Emily, what do you think Miss Harwell will do?" questioned Elizabeth.
"I fear our cousin may have a right good whipping for his disobedience. Serves him right, too," countered Emily.
Richard overheard the comments and involuntarily clenched his buttocks at the thought. That phrase–a right good whipping–resonated in his mind as he regarded Miss Harwell opening the back door to usher him in. He'd been spanked on occasion when his mother was alive, but she had died when he was ten. His father had been too distracted and busy to discipline the boy–hence Miss Harwell.
She ordered the kitchen staff to heat some water. "As you can see," she told them as they regarded the sopping wet boy with some amusement, "he'll take quite a scrubbing." The cook, Edna, and Jenny, the maid, shook their heads with a smile as if to say, "Boys–wouldn't you know it–dirty, disobedient scamps."
"Come with me, straight to the upstairs bath, Master Richard." She took Richard by the elbow, pinching his nerve. He floundered along beside her. "Care that you don't touch anything," she admonished, but her grip controlled him so that they kept away from the walls. When they arrived at the large upstairs bathroom she ordered him in. "Now you will wait until the water arrives. I will return." And she left shutting the door behind her. Richard let out his breath in a big gasp and sat on a bench, dripping and cold. Shortly the water arrived courtesy of Jenny, a husky farm girl who was on the household staff. Behind her strode Miss Harwell wearing a white apron like nurses wear, a hefty long handled bath brush in her right hand. When Jenny had poured the steaming water into the tub, Harriet dismissed her and turned to Richard.
"Take off your clothes," she said flatly. Richard stared at her as if he could not comprehend. She still standing there, her lips pursed, her arms folded. Surely she didn't expect…
"Did you not hear me, Richard? I said take off your clothes."
"I-I… b-but with you here, I…" he stammered, blushing.
"I will tell you only one more time and I will then call upon Jenny to assist me, take off those dirty clothes at once, sir. I intend to scrub that mud off of you. You wandered into the pond like a disobedient child and now I'm going to bathe you like one."
Richard's blood froze. She was going to see him naked! And give him a bath like he was a six-year-old! He had never felt so humiliated. The look on her face meant business and Richard rose to slowly strip in front of the imperious mistress. He did not want Edna or anyone else to see him naked. He reached his under shorts and hesitated. "Please, Miss Harwell, I'll clean myself up. I'll bathe really well. You don't have to help me."
"Richard, I've had enough of your foolishness. I mean to bathe you myself and you will take those drawers off and climb in that tub this instant," she said pointing the wicked looking bath brush in his direction.
With a shiver he eased down his last scrap of clothing exposing his blushing body to the stern Miss Harwell. He felt completely humiliated having to strip in front of his governess. It was so shameful to be exposed this way to this young woman. And to his horror he felt his penis harden as he slid his pants down. He hastened to cover his private parts with his hands, but he knew she could see his stiffening prick. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at his reaction.
"That will be enough of that. Get in the bath at once," she commanded.
Richard hastily obeyed, but yelped as he climbed in, the water was so hot. Miss Harwell approached, a bar of strong soap and the bath brush in her hand. She sat on a bench beside the tub and proceeded to scrub the dirt-caked boy. She was none too gentle about it and Richard thought she was going to scrub the skin off. He was especially embarrassed when she made him stand up while she scrubbed his legs, groin, and bottom. The harsh bristles hurt on the tender skin of his behind. She scrubbed him head to toe and when she was finished Richard thought she had surely taken off a layer of skin. She rose from the stool and fetched a towel.
"Get up Richard. I'm going to dry you off and then we must talk about your behavior."
Completely subdued, Richard rose, dripping. At Miss Harwell's command he stepped out of the tub. Miss Harwell sat on the bench and held open the towel for Richard. As he stood between her legs she vigorously rubbed him with the towel. Richard flinched as the harsh toweling chafed his skin now made pink from the bath brush. "Ow, Miss Harwell, ow…" he yelped.
"Hold still, Richard. Don't squirm, you naughty boy. I'm not of a mind to be gentle with you after your wretched behavior. Now then," she said apparently finished, "it's time to talk about your disobedience." A cold chill went up Richard's spine. He was naked and his governess was seated at a bench with a long-handled bath brush in her hand. "Turn around and face me, Richard."
Richard turned holding the towel in front of his body to face Miss Harwell seated on the bench. "What you did was in direct defiance of my orders, wasn't it?"
"Y-yes, Miss Harwell," admitted Richard.
"I specifically forbade you to go to that pond, didn't I?"
"I will have no excuses, Richard. You disobeyed me and you will now be punished for it. Now put that towel down and place yourself across my knee."
"Oh, no, please miss, no," wailed Richard when he realized what she intended, his worst fears confirmed. She intended to spank him like a child.
"Do not add defiance of my command to your list of sins, Richard. Across my lap at once, you wicked boy. I'm going to teach you a good lesson in obedience."
Richard froze, which prompted a disgusted Miss Harwell to jerk the towel away. She gripped the blubbering boy by the earlobe and forced him, squealing, face down over her knee. She grabbed his right hand and twisted it up behind his back while simultaneously lifting her right leg. This forced Richard's nose toward the floor and raised his buttocks vulnerably pointing the unblemished cheeks upward. Richard's response was one of deep shame at being upended nude over Miss Harwell's lap.
Speculation about the physical sensation to be visited on Richard's buttocks ended with a swift volley of stinging smacks from Miss Harwell's capable right palm. She spanked hard, visiting alternate cheeks of the chubby boyish behind with sharp cracks that resounded off the hard walls of the steamy bathroom.
"Ow…ow…ow…" wailed Richard, squirming and kicking his legs in response to the surprisingly sharp pain. She was only using the palm of her hand and it stung like blazes. She spanked with a rapid-fire arm motion that delivered smack after stinging smack to the tender seat previously scrubbed to a healthy pink by the brush. He was quite overwhelmed by the pain. It stung worse than anything he had ever experienced.
"I mean you to mind me young man *smack!smack! smack!* So when I tell you *smack! smack!* not to *smack! whap!* play in that pond I mean for you to obey *smack! crack! whap!* Do you understand me?"
"Owwww….aaah…yes, Miss Harwell," bleated Richard. But Miss Harwell just kept spanking Richard's reddening buttocks with brisk smacks applied equally between the two bobbing mounds. Richard couldn't help but writhe and jerk, but Miss Harwell had him in a steely grip. Determined to administer a punishment that Richard would remember, she increased the tempo of the shamefully juvenile smacking, now concentrating on the very crown of Richards bottom cheeks. Richard pleaded for mercy, but the relentless spanking continued. Richard felt his eyes well up with tears, it hurt so much.
After what seemed like an eternity, Miss Harwell stopped, resting her palm on the summits of Richard's red and stinging bottom. Thinking it was over, Richard made to rise, but Miss Harwell held him down.
"We are not yet finished, Richard," she said. To his horror Richard felt her hand move away and heard a wooden clatter. She was picking up the bath brush! He squirmed in panic. "Hold still at once Richard. I mean this to be a salutary chastisement, sir, one you will remember the next time you are tempted to disobey."
Richard felt more than heard a whoosh of air and then CRACK! the brush landed on his buttocks flattening both cheeks and causing more pain than Richard believed possible. Richard screamed in pain and the tears began to flow in earnest as crack after crack of the wicked brush fell on his wriggling fanny.
Downstairs the household staff could hear the loud crack of the brush and Richard's piteous wails.
"The young Miss is giving Master Richard a good seeing to," remarked Jenny. "She was quite angry with him," said Edna nodding as the smacks and howls continued to emanate from the upstairs bathroom. "I wouldn't want to be in his shoes," remarked Jenny, "I had enough spankings myself growing up and this one sounds like a doozy."
Richard was blubbering and babbling–pleading for mercy, wriggling over Miss Harwell's knee, crying salty tears. The last ten smacks were hard slow and deliberate. Each one carried with it a litany of repentance.
CRACK! "Will you obey my rules?"
"Oww…yes…yes…"
CRACK! "Will you mind me?"
"Ouch….aaah…please, yes…"
Down the hall in their bedroom Elizabeth and Emily listened raptly to the shameful punishment being meted out to their cousin. Elizabeth's own tender bottom cheeks clenched in involuntary sympathy as she listened to the crack of the hard brush. Emily shuddered as she realized that Miss Harwell would not hesitate to treat her the same.
Harriet Harwell finally stopped and regarded her handiwork. The boy's bottom was a bright red, and swollen. She had punished him severely, but no more than what was warranted. She relaxed her grip and raised Richard to his feet. Richard was sobbing uncontrollably. He had forgotten he was standing nude in front of Miss Harwell. She lifted his chin as he rubbed his blistered sit spot and raised his eyes to hers.
"Now Richard, I hope you have learned your lesson. I will not tolerate disobedience. Well?"
"Y-yes, ma'am," sobbed Richard. God, his behind stung!
"Now, you will be confined to your room for the evening. Supper will be sent up to you. Go," she commanded.
"Yes, Miss Harwell. I'm sorry, I really am," said the tearful boy. "I won't do it again."
"I'm sure you won't," said Harriet Harwell with a thin smile.
But will he?
I have read The English Governess; have you?
Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for October 27
What implement have you always wanted to try, but haven't?
Bonnie: As I scan my spanko bucket list, I can't think of an implement that I really want to try for the first time. Perhaps I need to do some research into new spanking technology!
Wendel: That cake looks delicious and a good spanking will also warm you up on a chilly evening.
The bucket list is topped with the carpet beater. Just looks like it would cover a lot of space and sting like hell. Never got around to buying one.
Roz: I can't really think of anything. Once upon a time my answer would have been riding crop and flogger, but we have now tried both...and broken both lol.
Yorkie: A full length cane, a tawse, a thicker, heavier paddle to name a few. Why haven't I tried them? Lack of spare cash.
Barrel: I would like to acquire and try a dragon cane. As my wife's caning skills are still developing, and the two canes she does wield both wrap on to both hips, I have been afraid to buy one. If I could only get her to devote more time to "practising" on me, of course ;<) I'd have one on order in a heart beat.
Rosco: We've tried many things and mostly use a (substantial) riding crop and a two-tailed tawse. In fact my bottom is still quite tender from the whipping I received 36 hours ago. Sometimes Irene will instruct me to cut a switch, but there's only the right raw material in our area for a few months of the year.
I'm a little intrigued by what a real caning would be like. I've seen pictures and it looks a little scary. And Irene doesn't like to hold back once she starts, so it's probably not a good idea.
I also asked a girl once why she was carrying an ice hockey stick. She declared loudly it was because she was going to spank me with it. She didn't, and it seemed an odd choice of implement, but the threat lingers in my mind to this day.
Ronnie: I can't think of an implement that I want to try for the first time.
QBuzz: I've always had a thing about the birch, but doubt I'll ever try one due to the practicalities of acquiring one and the fact that it's not a very 'domestic' implement - I doubt my girlfriend would enjoy using it
Prefectdt: I would like to try a Bullwhip. I have not purchased one because I would not know a good one from a rubbish one. Even then I do not know of anyone who is skilled enough to use one. From watching videos, they do not look like they are an implement to be used by someone who has not had sufficient training with one. Also I do not know of a place that is large enough to play with one, most domestic settings are just too small.
Hermione: I have always been curious about what a flogger feels like. I have seen instructions on how to make one, and I could probably order one on the imternet, but I'm not sure how Ron would feel about using one.
Now there's a Christmas wish list!
Gather around, dear friends, and help yourself to a slice of cake. It isn't anyone's birthday; the candle is there to help keep you warm on this chilly day. Today's topic came to me as I arranged our spanking toys on their special rack. I had taken them down and hidden them when we had guests for Thanksgiving, but it's safe to display them once more.
Is there an implement that you have always wanted to try, but haven't? What is preventing you from acquiring this implement? Do you think you will ever find out what it feels like?
Please leave your response as a comment. Once everyone has had a chance to speak, I will publish an edited summary of our discussion.
Once again it's almost time for the annual Love our Lurkers celebration. This year we will honour our silent readers on Thursday, November 14 and Friday, November 15.
For those of you who are wondering what I'm talking about, we bloggers set aside two days each year to encourage our silent readers to come out of the shadows and leave a comment. We all have readers who have never commented, and this is the time we gently encourage them to introduce themselves in some way.
A little history is in order here. Fourteen years ago, Bonnie started the tradition. For the first few years, it was very hush hush and meant to be a surprise, so no one but the bloggers themselves knew about the actual date. But as Bonnie's blogroll increased, it became impossible to email each blogger individually to tell them the date and encourage them to join in the fun. Invariably, some bloggers were missed and never received the email. So the emails were replaced with a blog post well in advance of LoL day. I also added a second day so that latecomers can join in without feeling they have missed being a part of the festivities.
If you are a blogger, all you have to do is put up a post on November 14 and 15 encouraging your readers—especially the silent ones—to leave a comment. I will have more details for you in the upcoming days, but in the meantime please spread the word to your readers. let's all try to make LoL 14 the best one yet!
Have you obtained a new implement lately?
Roz: Sorry, but my answer to this question is a dull one. No new implements. We haven't spanked for some years now and I did get a surprise spanking a few weeks back it was with the hand. Does that count as a new implement given it hadn't been used for that purpose for so long?
QBuzz: The London Tanners pocket strap + pocket tawse. Provide an extremely intense OTK experience, and is the most 'satisfied' I've ever felt after a spanking.
https://www.thelondontanners.com/shop/pocket-strap/
Bernie: It hasn't arrived, yet, but we do have a riding crop on order. Mistress was the one who suggested it and will be using it on me. Maybe I'll report back on it some Brunch when the topics align. The best.
Baxter: Back when I was getting ready for my knee replacement surgery, we were out getting stuff to help get through it. One thing was a long shoe horn, probably 2.5 feet long. Well after my surgery, my wife was playing around with it and smacked my bare bottom with it. It hurt but in a good way. Ever since then, my spankings have been with that shoe horn. My wife bought another one to be in our camper if I need spankings, which I always do.
Jack: My mother-in-law gave my wife a new paddle of education. It is extra flat, comfortable handle. She had the words "Mommie knows best" on the flat part of the paddle. I recently experienced it, it truly does get the point across. My wife enjoys the comfortable handle and saids she has more grip.
Wendel: About a month ago the Misses surprised me with her new purchase she called Sr. Smack. It is an 18in long, thick ruler like paddle. It stings like hell and the marks take a couple of days to disappear. The Misses paddled me twice with it since it arrived and in both instances the expression can't sit down applied.
Anon 1: I make implements all the time. Recently I made a set of hairbrush shaped paddles in different thickness and materials. The sensations they produce range from stingy to thuddy.
Barrel: I bought a extra heavy Scottish tawse from M C Customs for my wife's birthday last month. It took 2 weeks to clear customs in London and 4 weeks to arrive in the states. It is our second leather implement and lighter than the strap I made. She used it during an extended session the day it arrived and I can say with authority, it is intense. The two tails left distinct marks that lasted for over a week. She reports, due to its lighter feel, she needs to practice with it, on me of course. This might be the best present I ever gave her ;<)
https://mccustoms.co.uk/product/two-tail-lochgelly-type-tawse-extra-heavy
Anna: My mother -in -law recently moved to the other coast. I was helping her pack up kitchen last week.She said if there was anything I wanted I should take it. There was a small cutting board with a handle that always displayed in her kitchen. My husband had made it for Mother's Day when he was a boy scout. It is about a foot long and 5 inches wide. It has a nice wooden handle. perfect for our
discipline session.
I put it to use that weekend. He was freaked but when I told him i intended to keep on display in our kitchen, but after an extra 25 swats he saw it my way.It now resides on a shelf in our kitchen. It serves as a daily reminder. When he comes home of Friday's he now brings it up to our bedroom removes his clothing and waits for his weekly discipline session.
Ronnie: No new implements in our house. I am looking for a new item to buy P for Christmas, but not sure what.
Prefectdt: I have not purchased a new toy for well over a year. I think I will read the other contributions for ideas. I would like to get a boot paddle though.
Hermione: We haven't had anything new in quite some time, but I have ny eye on one as a Christmas present for Ron. He is a dedicated barbecuer, so this will serve a dual purpose. A better idea would be to buy two.
Such a lot of lovely implements. I'd like to try them all!
Welcome one and all to my favourite time of the week. Let's discuss a topic suggested by my good friend Barrel.
Have you recently added a new implement to your collection? If so, who suggested it? Where did you get it? What were the results?
As usual, please leave your response as a comment. Once everyone has had a chance to reply. I will publish an edited summary of our conversation.
KDPierre: Hilda's Autumn bike ride amid the changing colors inspired her to daydream of her bottom turning a warm red, but dressed as she was in the chilly Fall air, by the time she got home, she succeeded only in turning blue.
Anon 1: Over the hill and around the bend with a bundle of switches I go .
The bike knows the way to where I will stay,
off to an ass switching here i go.
Ohhhh over the hill and around the bend ....
Anon 2: These switches should be enough to get me through tonight, but given the way I tend to misbehave, there's a good chance I'll be out here tomorrow to collect another batch. At least that's my plan.
Anon 3: He said he was going to turn my bottom as red as the leaves on the switches. I tried to find the reddest ones I could.
Prefectdt: Hilda said "And now the switches are turning to the colour of my hair".
Hermione: Hilda was violating the town ordinance by littering the road with leaves, knowing full well that the punishment would be a spanking by the hunky town sheriff.
That warmed me up, and now I'm ready for brunch; how about you? Please join us. Its coming up next.
It's autumn and the trees are turning shades of yellow, orange, red and brown. Our Hilda is taking some time to enjoy the fall colours, but why are the leaves still attached to their branches? Are the branches destined to be used in a way familiar to all of us?
Please complete the caption by leaving a comment. I will bag your suggestions and have them ready for pickup on Saturday.
What are you thankful for?
Roz: Wow, congratulations on 300 brunches, that is some milestone!
Happy Thanksgiving to you and Ron, I hope you have a wonderful time and enjoy the celebrations. I am thankful for the support of wonderful friends and family and am especially thankful to be having a family brunch today to celebrate our Father's birthday and that a new addition to the family is due to arrive any day.
Bernie: ... for a very close friendship that has developed over the last year. I'm looked at, in a sense, as the brother she never had. It's doubtful that we'll ever have an intimate relationship, but that's ok. We make each other happy.
Bonnie: Congratulations, Hermione, on 300 brunches. I have an appreciation for all that goes into making this event happen week in and week out. I am thankful that you were able to continue this tradition and carry it to new heights.
I am thankful for our community and this worldwide internet for providing places to meet friends and share my spanko thoughts. I've now been posting stories, essays, and chatter in various spanking-oriented locales for more then twenty years. In that time, I've talked with literally thousands of people who share this link. Who could have imagined? Not me!
Finally, I am thankful for the life my husband and I share. He warms my bottom, but he also warms my heart.
Terpsichore: Congratulations on 300 brunches! :-) I am thankful for the love of family and friends, for the gift of time, and for a community of welcoming friends from all over and a place where I can truly be me. Hope you have a wonderful thanksgiving!
Barrel: 300 brunches, and healthy ones, too! Congratulations and thank you for all you do. You are in inspiration.
I am thankful for God and this wonderous world in which we live.
While there are many other items for which I am grateful, I am thankful for health and my family, especially my wife of 41 years and the love we share.
Wendel Jones: Congrats Hermione on the big 300.
I am thankful for The Misses. She is my angel.
Liza: Congratulations on the 300 brunches. I always look forward to reading them.
I'm thankful for my husband, family and friends.
Happy Thanksgiving to our wonderful neighbors to the north.
Windy: Congratulations, H, on your 300th Brunch! Right here on your blog was where I posted my very first comment.... it might seem silly, but it was an important first step for me. I have met some really great people in blog land and I hold a few of them very close to my heart now. Thank you for being a blog of solidity.
Ronnie: Happy Thanksgiving and Congratulations on your 300th Spanko brunch.
There are so many I am thankful for. Our health, this community and the friends I've made through it. I never thought that could happen.
Thankful for the loving spanko relationship I have and for our beautiful granddaughter.
Prefectdt: Congratulations on your Brunchaversary.
A bit corny but I am thankful for those rare moments, when there are no deadlines and all the daily jobs are done, when you can relax, let your mind wonder and ponder things in life that are worth thinking about (I warned you that it was corny :) ).
Hermione: I am thankful that Ron and I are in good health, and hope that continues for a long time. I am also thankful for this community, where we can talk about subjects that outsiders would feel are taboo.
I am thankful that I have so many faithful readers who join us at our weekly brunches.
Today we celebrate two special events. One is a very important milestone. This is the 300th brunch that I have held since I took it over from our good friend Bonnie. The second is Thanksgiving, which we Canadians celebrate on this long weekend. Since our climate is much colder than that of our neighbours to the south, our harvest season occurs a full month earlier, and so does our celebration of thankfulness for the bounty the earth provides. So I invite you all to join us in some thoughtful reflection.
What are you thankful for this year?
Leave your response as a comment, and once the harvest feast is over and the dishes are done, I will publish an edited summary of our discussion.
From the Top Shelf - Adorable Little Amy
Today's story is from Rollin Hand's blog where it was reprinted from the ebook Willow Wood Estate by Madeline Smythe, and it involves age play. In age-play scenarios, someone is reduced to child-like status. This may include the wearing of juvenile clothing, living in a nursery, a forced hygiene regimen, and of course, spankings. I'm not a fan of age play, but the spanking in this story makes it worth reading.
To set the stage, our protagonist Amy has taken up employment with Athena, a rich and powerful woman, to catalog the holdings of a remote country estate Athena has inherited. In the course of her employment Amy has observed some odd behaviors at Willow Wood estate and her curiosity is about to get her in over her head.
As the car approached, Amy could see that there was a driver and a passenger. It pulled up in the long circular driveway and came to a stop by the door. A tall and rather solid looking red haired woman wearing what appeared to be a chauffeur's uniform emerged from the driver's seat. She opened the passenger door and Athena got out. The chauffer handled various shopping bags and followed behind Athena as she strode through the front door. Amy had scurried back to the library. Although curious, she wanted to be seen as working when Athena arrived. She was not so confident of their relationship that she should assume special treatment. Athena was still her employer. And lately she'd fallen behind, too enthralled with Calvin's erotica collection to be very efficient.
But Athena paused and saw her through the open library door.
"Amy, please come and meet Paulette." The redhead tilted her head and smiled as if amused by the look on Amy's face which was obviously a reaction to Paulette's odd attire.
"Paulette is a special friend of mine. She is here for the gathering tomorrow." When Athena saw Amy's confused look she added, "Oh, didn't I tell you? Some friends of mine are gathering here in a few days for an event. It is an annual convocation. And, I want you to be included. Here, I bought you something special to wear for the first evening of the convocation, a dinner party." Athena handed her a box.
Amy gulped. "For me? I didn't know about a party. Why?"
Athena put her palm on Amy's face and looked into her eyes. "Because, my sweet girl, I want to show you off."
"Thank you, Athena," said Amy. Then a part of her wondered—what kind of event would this be exactly? The strangeness was becoming more and more apparent. First, there was Athena and her students. Then Calvin. Then Witch Hollow and the willows. Now here was Paulette, a voluptuous woman in an odd role.
Athena smiled like an indulgent aunt. "Now, go try it on. I want to see you."
Amy smiled, enthused now that she'd been given a present. "All right," she said brightly, and proceeded to go change.
"We'll be in my studio," Athena called after her.
In her room, Amy opened the box. Inside was what appeared to be a white frock with blue piping. Her eyes widened in disbelief. It was some sort of little girl's frock. It was almost like a sailor suit, with puffy sleeves and a wide blue trimmed collar. She sighed and put it on. The skirt was short, really short. There were also black shoes and white ankle socks. She looked at herself in the mirror. The outfit made her look like she was twelve. She couldn't wear this ridiculous thing. Still, Athena had given it to her. She decided to confront her about it.
Athena stood by the window explaining something to Paulette. It was so strange. Paulette wore a coat and black trousers, almost like a man's. She also wore a little cap, just like a chauffeur. But the figure inside the trousers did not belong to any man. She had on a white shirt, too, and her rather full breasts left no doubt as to the gender of the red haired "chauffeur". They spoke casually to each other. It was as if she were merely playing the role of a servant of some type; she seemed more like a friend to Athena than an employee.
Amy strode purposefully into the room and stopped in the middle to address Athena. "I can't wear this! I look ridiculous." Paulette smiled and raised her eyebrows as Athena turned. She looked Amy up and down, appraising her.
"You like absolutely perfect, Amy. Wouldn't you say so Paulette?"
"Why yes, I would. Who is she, your teenage niece?" Paulette stifled a chuckle.
Amy pursed her lips and frowned at Paulette. "I'm not wearing this to your….your party. It's embarrassing."
"Amy, let's not be petulant, dear. You are so very cute and adorable. They're going to fawn all over you, won't they Paulette?"
Paulette nodded. "Very cute," she said.
"I don't care," said Amy. She stamped her foot without realizing that that probably made her look like a child throwing a tantrum. "I'm not wearing it!"
Athena scrunched her lips. "I see. Amy, do you know Paulette's role with my friends?" Amy shook her head. "Paulette is very special. You see, she is the sergeant-at-arms for my little club. She is very skilled at what she does."
"What does that have to do with anything?" asked a frustrated Amy.
"Only this, Amy. If you continue to behave like a petulant child I may have Paulette demonstrate her considerable skill for your benefit," said Athena smoothly.
Paulette smiled broadly, as if she would like nothing better. She took off her jacket. She put her cap on top of it. When the cap came off, she shook her long mane of flowing red hair. Amy gulped, suddenly intimidated. Paulette was taller than her by at least six inches and outweighed her by forty pounds. But why should that matter?
"I can't wear this," Amy persisted. "I'm not a child. But it makes me look like one."
"Are you so determined to disobey me, Amy?" Athena turned to Paulette and what she said shocked Amy to her core.
"Spank her soundly and put her on display in the corner. I'll be back in few minutes."
Amy couldn't believe her ears. The shock of that casual statement sent a cold chill up Amy's spine. She looked at Paulette whose lips were curled up in a thin smile. "What? Athena?" But Athena had left, shutting the door behind her.
"You heard Aunty Athena," said Paulette, grinning broadly as she approached the girl.
Amy was frozen to the spot. This was not happening. It all came on so swiftly. The next thing she knew, Paulette had grasped her wrist and was pulling her along, headed for an armless chair that stood out from the wall.
"Oh! Let me go!" Amy squealed, but the larger woman handled her easily. She sat down and swept Amy across her knees with what seemed like no effort at all. Amy felt an arm clamp her back, pinioning her helplessly across Paulette's sturdy thighs. Her frock was raised in back. All she had on underneath were plain white panties. She gasped in shame as even these, her last vestige of modesty, were slipped down, baring her bottom. The tiny panties fluttered at her knee hollows impeding her ability to kick her legs. For a moment all she felt was a cool breeze. Then smack! smack! smack! smack! Paulette's palm landed on her nude bottom cheeks delivering crisp authoritative spanks that made her screech.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" she yelled. This really stung. The woman had a hand like a paddle. This was no erotic idyll. Amy was getting an authentic spanking.
For the next several minutes and without interruption, the walls of the studio echoed with the sounds of meaty smacks being applied to Amy's bare bottom. The impacts made her teeth rattle and the sting was unrelenting. Each explosive smack was a searing burn. Amy thought to herself the same thing thought by naughty girls since time immemorial—Stop! I'll be good! I'll be good!
Amy wriggled and bucked. She put her hand back to shield her bottom. Paulette just laughed and grabbed it, pinioning her wrist to her back. "No, no, no, little girl. Athena said 'a sound spanking' and that's what you get," she laughed. "This little fanny is going to be well warmed by the time I'm done." The spanking increased in tempo as Paulette spanked hard and fast. The cute bottom cheeks rippled and quivered with the repeated impacts of Paulette's hand.
"Yow! Yow!" Amy squealed. She was now practically beside herself from the overwhelming burn visited on her backside by Paulette's unrelenting hand . Her eyes flooded with tears. She was drooling. "Ah…ah…ahhh!" she bleated, all to no avail.
"Now, little miss, will you behave?" Smack! Smack! Smack! These spanks were slower but even harder.
"Yes! Yes! Oh, please stop!"
"And you will wear the frock Athena bought for you?" Smack! Whap! Crack! The big woman's palm stung atrociously.
"Yes! I will wear it! Yes!" Anything to make it stop!
"Then you may rise," said Paulette, lifting her up and placing Amy on her feet. Amy started to pull her panties back up. "Uh, uh," said Paulette. "Leave those down. Over to the corner with you." She pointed to a far corner.
Amy managed to shuffle over to the corner.
"Face the corner and lift your skirt," commanded Paulette. "Do not rub yourself. Stay that way."
This was the worst yet. Horribly embarrassed and shamed, Amy lifted the skirt to expose her bottom, which she imagined must be beet red, and faced the wall like some disgraced schoolgirl. Her bottom burned. It was positively throbbing. She longed to rub it, to alleviate the awful sting. The other spankings now seemed like playful encounters. Amy heard her walk out, but was too emotionally drained to do anything but stand obediently in the corner, like some recalcitrant child, now duly reprimanded. It was utterly humiliating.
But as the heat in her bottom began to subside, she felt that familiar tingle of arousal. Somehow the shame began to feel delicious. How could that be? The sting subsided to a glow that was almost sensuous. Still, she waited in silence. Minutes went by.
A sudden sound made her turn her head. It was Athena.
"There, you naughty girl. Will you behave now? I see that Paulette has done a thorough job on your naughty backside." Athena regarded her, standing there with her arms folded, shaking her head back and forth.
Amy did not know what to think. She was a conflicted mess of emotions. She just nodded, too overwhelmed to do anything else.
"Come then," said Athena, holding out her hand. "Let's get some cold cream for that bottom."
You can probably guess what happened next.
Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for October 6
Do you have a love/hate relationship with one particular implement?
Anon 1: The cane! It the most intense implement we own. It will leave marks and it will sometimes break the skin. It can make you want to jump out of your skin at times. However, the endorphin release it creates is so great and unmatched by any other implement it makes it so worth it.
Roz: Ha, I think I have a love/hate relationship with all our implements lol. It depends on how they are used. They can either leave a nice sting or really pack a punch.
Jack: Bath Brush, more hate than love, it has a lasting affect.
Simon: I love canes, I like the noise they make both travelling through the air and when they impact with my usually bare skin. I like the intense feeling when they strike and the lovely marks they leave. For me nothing is more enjoyably painful than a cane in the hands of a skilled lady.
Anon 2: A paddle made of Lexan which was a gift to C for her birthday. It is a quarter of an inch thick with one inch holes nicely spaced. It stings like a nest of hornets yet brings a wonderful response from the victim. We both hate it but still like it.
Prefectdt: I have a white synthetic cane, I hate it but I am so fascinated by my ability to endure it that I cannot bring myself to throw it away.
Barrel: Absolutely the thin, white delrin cane. When administered with vigor, it can wrap around to the sides of each cheek with a branding effect. Yet I crave it. We also have a small, hard plastic paddle that is vicious. When I bought it, the sales lady smiled and told me it was the "bane" of her. So I know I am not alone in respecting it.
Yorkie: Actually, no. I love them all!
Ronnie: For me the cane. I love it more than hate it. Depends on how it's used.
Hermione: I had to think about this one because we have a few implements that I love unconditionally, and a few that I hate with a passion. The one implement that I both love and hate is the rattan carpet beater. It's very stingy but not too severe, and I love the swishy sound it makes. Sadly, it is also prone to breaking, so we don't use it very often.
That discussion heated up the room nicely!
We are into October now and frost is around the corner, so we'd better eat up all the ripe watermelon before the vines wither. While we're munching, let's consider this question.
Do you have a love/hate relationship with a particular implement? If so, tell us all about it.
Please leave your response as a comment, and once everyone has spoken I will publish an edited summary of our conversation.
An October Meme
This one 's from PK via Ronnie - How well do you know your significant other?
Name a food he won't eat?
Anything a tiny bit spoiled or squishy or moldy.
You go out to eat; what would he drink?
Beer if it's lunchtime, and red wine if it's a dinner out.
What's one thing you do that just about guarantees you're getting a spanking?
Saturday, 4:30.
What is his nickname for you?
He doesn't have one, and doesn't use my name either.
What is something he likes to do?
Check the weather on the iPad.
What is his favourite store?
When he is on the phone, who is he talking to?
His son.
What are his favourite shows?
His all-time favourites are The Wonder Years, Breaking Bad and Cheers. Current shows are 48 hours, Dateline and How it Really Happened.
What's his favourite implement?
The long red shoehorn.
What would he never wear?
Shorts, because he thinks his legs are too skinny.
What's his favourite food?
Coddled eggs for breakfast, BLT for lunch, and steak for dinner.
If you could change one thing about your significant other, large or small, what would it be?
I wish he would speak in a normal tone of voice and not mumble, so I wouldn't have to ask him to repeat everything he says.
What is his favourite sport?
American football.
What is something that you do that he wishes you didn't?
He doesn't like it when I hum a tune I've just heard (which is pretty much all day long).
What could he do all day long and not get bored?
Read or watch CNN.
How does he like his coffee?
Strong with little milk.
How long have you been together?
What is your perfect world for yourself and your relationship ten years from now?
I hope things would be exactly the same, with both of us in good health.
Labels: meme
From the Top Shelf- Rebecca Remembered (F/M)
If you're into F/M spanking, or even if you're not, you're going to love this week's story. It comes to us courtesy of the late Rollin Hand's blog, and was written by "Pete" in the early days of message boards. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Rebecca Remembered
By Pete
It was in the Summer of '65, Charlie and Becky had just become formally engaged. His parents had thrown them a gala reception to celebrate the event, and to let all of the family meet Becky.
Becky had been standing next to Charlie, idly chatting with a couple of second cousins, when they were approached by a vivacious and lovely blonde. They had looked at each other appraisingly for a moment, because they looked so much alike, they could have been sisters. The same shoulder length, softly bobbed blonde hair… both about 5' 6" and 115 pounds, both with long trim legs and a nicely rounded figure.
"Hi!" The newcomer hailed warmly, "you must be Becky, I'm Jeanne, Charlie's Aunt."
"His Aunt? But you're so… " she had blurted, surprised because Jeanne could not have been much more than 30.
Jeanne laughed, "yeah, I was kind of a surprising accident. Charlie's Mom was 18 when I was born. How do you like your new family-to-be?"
"Oh, they all seem very nice." Becky said sincerely.
"Well, I hope you can handle Charlie – he can be a handful."
"I know what you mean!" Becky laughed, wondering why Charlie was suddenly becoming very flustered.
"Yes," Jeanne went on, "he stayed with me when he had a job on the Cape. We live in Marion, just over the bridge. I'll never forget. The first week he was there, I heard this awful din in the kitchen and went in to find Charlie and my 12 year old brat Jenny having a food fight! I'm an old-fashioned style mother, so I just scooped up a handy wooden butter paddle, turned Jenny over my knee, yanked down her shorts and whaled the living daylights out of her bare bottom. I could tell Charlie was shocked, 'cause he just stood there with his jaw hanging down to his knees. By the time I'd finished with Jenny she was howling like a banshee, and when I let her up she just grabbed her bottom and scooted off to her room, still crying up a storm.
I really hadn't thought about it, but Charlie was just standing there looking guilty as hell, so I pointed to my lap and said, 'your turn.' He blushed a lot, but did shuffle over to where I was sitting, so I took his pants down, turned him over my knee and spanked his bare botty 'til it was blistered and he was howling every bit as loudly as Jenny had. Then, when he got into some more mischief a few days later, it just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to take him into my bedroom and wallop his bare bottom with my hairbrush. I must've spanked him 20 times or so that summer… and he deserved every single one of them! Didn't you Charlie?"
"Yeah, well, I guess so," Charlie muttered uncomfortably.
"Wait a minute!" Becky said, "Charlie worked on the Cape last summer."
"Of course!" Jeanne replied, smiling broadly, "that's when it happened."
"You spanked Charlie last summer? On his bare bottom? When he was 21?" Becky queried in astonishment.
"Of course. And it really helped to keep him in line. if I were you, Becky, I'd go right out and get myself a good, sturdy hairbrush. Then, the first time Charlie pulled one of his boyishly charming capers, I'd let him have it – right where it hurts the most. Take it from me, Becky, Charlie really needs it!"
Becky paused to let all this sink in, then turned to her blushing fiance, smiling slyly. "Tell me, Charlie, what do you think? Do you think I should buy myself a good, sturdy hairbrush? And use it the way Aunt Jeanne did?"
"Of course not, Becky. I mean, you're gonna be my wife, not my Aunt." He did not sound convincing. This was becoming very interesting. Becky found herself envying Aunt Jeanne.
"What difference does that make?" she told him haughtily, "you are a terribly naughty boy sometimes and maybe a few good, sound spankings on your cute little fanny would help. Aunt Jeanne thinks so. Don't you Aunt Jeanne?" Becky turned back to this interesting woman, who was grinning broadly at her nephew's obvious discomfort.
"Absolutely! Don't you feel those spankings I gave you last summer helped you to behave yourself, Charlie? Don't you?" Aunt Jeanne prodded.
"Well, yeah, I suppose so. But it's not the same!" Charlie almost wailed.
"Humbug!" Becky told him firmly. "I think it would be a nice gesture if you bought me the right kind of hairbrush. You should know what you need. You can give it to me for our engagement. Then, I'll give you a nice spanking with it. That sounds fair. There!" She turned back to Aunt Jeanne, "it's all settled."
"Sounds like you're really in for it, Charlie!" Aunt Jeanne laughed. "But don't look so glum. Come on, admit it. You really didn't mind all those spankings I gave you, did you?"
"Hey! They hurt! A lot!" He protested. Not, Becky noticed, answering the question.
"Of course they did!" Exclaimed Aunt Jeanne, "they were supposed to. But I did kind of notice that you seemed to get, well, kind of excited, too. Didn't you?"
"HELL NO!" Charlie protested hotly.
Becky looked at him appraisingly. "Methinks he protesteth too much," she thought. She made a mental note to have a private chat with Aunt Jeanne later, and went on to mingle with her other new-found relatives. That evening, Jeanne and Becky took a leisurely stroll through the woods.
"I am serious, Becky," Jeanne said. "Charlie did get kinda turned on by the spankings. It's not something a man can hide very well. And I got the feeling that, on several occasions, he was really trying to get me to spank him. I was only too happy to oblige. I thought it was fun! You really ought to pursue it. I think some shared kinky secrets are good for a marriage."
"Do you spank George?" Becky asked her sweetly.
"Heavens NO!" Jeanne laughed, "but ve haf other vays… "
"Like what?" Becky pursued.
"Well… promise not to tell anyone?" Becky nodded. "OK, well, er, I uh sit on him."
"Sit on him?" Becky repeated, not terribly impressed.
"Well," Jeanne giggled, "it's on his face. But, back to Charlie. I'll bet you 5 bucks he buys you a hairbrush."
"Oh, I don't think so. I wish it would be that easy. No, I'm afraid I'm going to have to push it."
"Then it's a bet?"
"You're on!" Becky told her, and shook Jeanne's hand.
The next afternoon, of course, Becky found a gaily wrapped package on her pillow. "Happy Engagement! All my love, Charlie," the card proclaimed. Inside was a very expensive, very solid, wooden hairbrush. She smacked it smartly against her palm. It stung! She put it in her handbag. Before dinner she surreptitiously slipped Jeanne $5. Jeanne winked knowingly. After dinner, Charlie and Becky strolled down to the secluded boathouse… a favorite necking spot of theirs.
"Thanks for the engagement gift," she told him slyly as they sat side by side on the long padded bench.
"Oh, er uh sure. Well, you're welcome." He stammered.
"Are you ready for my gift?"
"Uh, gee Becky, you mean now?" He blurted.
"No time like the present. A stitch in time. Never put off 'til tomorrow. Come on, Charlie, you've got nothing to lose but your pants." Not giving him time to argue, she bent toward him and quickly undid his belt and opened his fly, her fingers flicking over the telltale bulge thus revealed. "OK, Charlie, get up."
Although it was dark in the boathouse, she could tell he was blushing like crazy. She firmly pulled down his slacks, then reached up and yanked down his shorts. Embarrassed, he kind of hunched over to shield himself. While he was off balance, she gave his elbow a quick tug and he toppled forward over her lap. Once over, he seemed to resign himself to his fate, and made no attempt to escape. "So far, so good," she thought to herself as she lightly patted the two plump mounds of pale flesh that peeped up at me so enticingly in the moonlight. Charlie squirmed a bit at this, and she could feel his "thing" pressing between her naked thighs. "Keep your eye on the ball," she told herself. Then told Charlie, "hand me my handbag, please, Honey." He groped in the dark, then wordlessly handed it back. She removed her brand new hairbrush, then moved its bristled side testingly over his quaking cheeks. He shivered, either in torment or delight, she couldn't tell which.
It was at this time that she began to have an anxiety attack. After all, not only had she never spanked anyone before, she had never even been spanked herself! Still admiring Charlie's delightfully animated derriere, she carefully reviewed Jeanne's instructions… she almost regretted not taking her up on her "kind" offer of a free home demonstration. "Well," she thought, "nothing ventured… "
Becky slipped her left arm around Charlie's naked waist, and saw his buttocks clench in apprehension. "Relax, Dear," she told him, "it is just a spanking after all." He sighed and she watched his buttocks unclench and resume their quiet quivering.
She took a firm grip on the brush, raised it high in the air, and brought it smartly down on the chubby crown of his right cheek. SMACK! The noise was alarming! It scared her half to death. Charlie gasped and twisted, but quickly settled down, meekly proffering his bare behind for further attention. She breathed deeply, recovered her determination, and gave Charlie's madly dancing derriere a crisp volley that had him grunting and squealing inanely while kicking his legs and squirming all over her lap.
She paused, now feeling in complete command. She ran her hand over his bobbing bottom, amazed at how warm it felt and noting the slight puffiness of each brush-shaped blister. And, they'd hardly begun! The brush continued to splat down, each whack sending a little shock wave through the rippling flesh. Poor Charlie jerked and jounced with every stroke. He kicked and waved his arms. His blazing bottom weaved and wriggled sinuously, but never strayed out of range of her flailing brush.
Charlie began to cry. Becky could see his tears spattering on the rough planks of the boathouse deck, and hear his great, wracking sobs of honest anguish. Had it not been for Jeanne's meticulous coaching she surely would have stopped, but she recalled the exact words. "Don't let him fool you, Becky. He'll howl and wail and sob… even bawl like a baby before you're halfway through. But, be firm. Give him at least 50 good ones… more if you feel like it. Otherwise it's just not a spanking. And make sure you cover his whole botty… including the part next to his thighs… that's where he'll really feel it when he tries to sit down tomorrow."
"Whoops!" Becky thought, and paused to inspect the tender undercurve of each blazing cheek. Hardly touched! The next volley smacked into the curved underside of his sit spot. That detail attended to, she moved back up to the fleshy crests, inch by smarting inch. she judged that she had passed the magical 50 mark, and paused again to assess the state of Charlie's pulsing, throbbing bottom. "There, there, Honey," she soothed as she pressed her palm first on one cheek and then on the other. They were hot! "Just a couple more for good measure," she told him, ignoring his abject pleas for mercy. And SMACK! WHACK! She placed two final Homeric stingers at the apex of each flaming buttock.
She helped him up off her lap and then guided him so he perched mournfully on her right thigh. She pressed his teary face against her thinly veiled breasts and crooned comfortingly in his ear as her right hand descended to stroke and soothe his flaming flanks. As her hand wandered around down there, two things became perfectly clear. First, the manful erection he'd pressed against me at the spanking's onset had totally vanished by its conclusion. Second, it was re-emerging in spectacular fashion now. Spanking appeared to excite Charlie before and after, but definitely not during! This was confirmed as with a combination sob/grunt, Charlie exploded all over her shirt. "Oh Charlie," she giggled, "I really should spank you for that!"
That had been 20 years ago. 20 years of delightful domination for Becky, superb submission for Charlie. Becky tried to calculate just how many spanks Charlie's bottom had received. "Let's see," she thought, "figure an average of at least one a week… that's 20 times 52, or about 1,000 spankings at maybe 60 each. WOW! 60,000 SMACKS. And my hairbrush is still as good as new!"
Not that that was the exclusive weapon, of course. Charlie had proven to be an adept scavenger… presenting her with a wide variety of implements for her disciplinary pleasure. The antique whalebone corset stay he had made into a whippy little switch… it just whispered sibilantly as it welted his bare fanny, making it perfect when she had to punish him when company or children were around (though she'd have to gag him with her panties because it made him squeal so loudly). The rattan cane he'd bought her on their last trip to England… and the funny looks they'd gotten from the Customs inspector. The kitschy "Fanny Whacker" he found in a souvenir store in North Carolina… that one leaves bruises, though. The leather strap he'd made himself, the martinet from Bermuda, the hard leather sandal… her eyes moved fondly to Charlie's crimsoned, chubby cheeks.
"Charlie?" She called out softly.
"Yes, Rebecca?"
"You can rub now."
I wish we could read more of "Pete's" work.