Spanksgiving Day Parade

“Welcome to to the Spanksgiving Day Parade. I am Catherine Littlebum and I am here with Daniel Hardhand.”

“Welcome, We have a great parade in store for you today. I have seen some of today’s floats and they even better than last year. You are really going to see something special today.”

“That is for sure. This year, like always, is starting right on time.”

“This year it is being lead by the marching band, ‘Contrite Chrisses’. Is that? Yes it is! They are playing their world famous ‘Solemn Lullaby’! Oh what a wonderful tune.”

“That it is Daniel. It always sends a shiver down my spine when I hear it.”

“And a twitch in the bum?”

“Well that’s a given, Daniel. Next up is the float from St. Lucianna’s School for Naughty Girls.”

“Oh what a wonderful school scene they have. Those Nun habits look very authentic from up here. Those ‘schoolgirls’ may have graduated long ago, but they are surely learning some lessons today.”

“Especially that redhead over the desk getting a workout from the ruler.”

“Catherine, don’t forget the back of the float! It looks like the Headmaster’s study is busy today.”

“Oh, your right. The two blondes touching their toes are perfectly positioned for his cane.”

“Nothing but six of the best!”

“You can say that again, Daniel.”

“Nothing but six of the best! Up next is one of the more extreme floats, from Lefien Leather.”

“Oh, that leather cat suit looks awful hot from up here.”

“Would you rather be freezing in those schoolgirl outfits we just saw, Catherine?”

“You know it! Now comes my favorite part of the parade, The giant balloons!”

“We have a giant flying paddle, and a hairbrush. Ohh, and that padded sawhorse is new.”

“I haven’t seen that one before. It looks like a circular arrowhead.”

“I bet you haven’t seen it before, but you probably felt it. It’s a ginger plug for figging.”

“Oh yea. Your right Daniel, I have never saw one, just felt a few.”

“Next up, we have Inquisition Goods, makers of some of the finest Medieval toys available.”

“Those hooded executioners sure look ominous. That one is really flogging the woman secured to the St. Andrews Cross.”

“The blonde in the pillory is looking like she is have a good time. Oh her execution just dropped his tawse and, yup, there he goes, rogering her good.”

“What a lucky girl! Next up is the all female marching band, ‘Yelping Ladies’ performing ‘Spank Dance.’ Look at their Color Guard jump. Those drum majors are not holding anything back.”

“It is called ‘Spank Dance’ for a reason. Next we have the float by Domestic Depot. What a lovely bedroom scene they have created this year. That bride is sure getting it.”

“A hairbrush in a groom’s hands has straighten out many bridezillas. I sure worked for me. Wow, look at those jugglers through around those paddles, they are an experts in dealing with the hard wood.”

“I bet they get plenty of practice. Catherine, it looks like we are nearing the end of this years parade, but first we have the float from the sweet people over at College Accessories. It looks like they have a lovely dorm room scene.”

“Daniel, I can tell you haven’t been to a College in quite a few years, because that isn’t a dorm room, its a sorority housemother’s room.”

“Oh, your right. And those sister sure have been naughty. Good thing they are right after the paddle jugglers, that housemother looks like she might need a replacement paddle soon.”

“There is our last float, and as is tradition, there is Spank Claus. Daniel, can you tell what is he giving out to all the naughty girls and boys this year?”

“Those are little wooden spoons!”

“Hopefully they won’t have to wait until they get home to be used.”

“I agree.”

“Well, I’d like to thank you all for coming out on this lovely Spanksgiving Day. Today’s parade was sure a great one. I’m Catherine Littlebum.”

“And I’m Daniel Hardhand, wishing you a wonderful rest of the day.”

The true story of Goldie Locques – Part 2

The story begins with The true story of Goldie Locques.

The boy’s parents arrived shortly after I finished straightening up the mess I made upstairs. They were the epitome of country folk, broad shoulders, broad waists and spoke slowly. Not the kind of people I normally associated with, but lately I had been doing numerous things for the first time.

The cold wind that entered with the owners snaked around the kitchen and up under my dress to bit my bare legs. the sudden chill in a normally protected place, sent a shiver through my body. I stood up to greet them as the boy took a satchel and shawl from his mother. It took a moment for either of the new comers to recognize they had guest.

“Hello?” the mother asked me first, “Wendel who is this?”

I immediately stepped forward and responded before the boy could respond. “I am Goldie Locques,” I said and for some unexplained reason curtsied before the older woman. She was just a peasant, but with their potential gratuity it felt appropriate.

“Pardon my manners, she was caught in the storm and asked to stay here until the weather got better. I couldn’t throw her out in that weather, especially on the Lord’s day,” the boy said.

“Hmmm, Where do you live, girl?” the mother asked me.

“Ahmmm, Munich,” I lied. I had repeated that same lie a dozen times in the last two weeks, but for some reason I stumbled this time.

“Munich you say? You are a far way from home, especially for a girl so young to be traveling alone.”

Why did she think I was just some child? It was like this whole family could not tell a sophisticated lady when they saw one. “I am not that young!” I said in a huff. “I turned eighteen this summer if you must know.”

The woman just snorted. “Your attitude says otherwise. You can stay until the storm passes, then you can be on your way. The vicar said it may last for a day or two, so while you are staying here, you can help me around the kitchen.”

I initially considered a witty retort, thought a slight tingle in my bottom changed my mind. These people did not know any better and I should not embarrassing them by publicly correcting their mistakes. “Yes, ma’am?” I posed it as a question in the hope she would provide me her name. Initially she seemed to ignore my request, instead focusing on helping her husband get dressed to go back out into the storm. The two men were going to the barn to check on their animals. Once she closed the door behind them, she responded to my earlier request.

“You can call me Mrs Behr. Goldie Locques? Is that English?” the mother asked, returning her attention to me.

“Yes ma’am, my grandfather came over from Sussex. He was a trader with the East India Company.”

“Trader you say? Hmm.” she stilled looked at me suspiciously. It was the same look my mother would give me when she thought I had been up to no good, but wasn’t yet sure what mischief I had created. “Well, you can wash and set the table while I tend to supper.”

I got a cloth and dampened it in bucket of water that sat on the counter. I made a couple passes over the plank table, before looking for the bowls and spoons.

“Do you know why a bunch of supper is missing?” Mrs. Behr asked, hunched over the large pot of porridge.

“Ah..no?” I lied. It took barely the count of ten for a guilty blush to stain my face. She had been suspicious of my answers before, but the last lie might have been too much.

The older woman turned away from the pot and glanced at me. Her expression quickly shifted from motherly caution to a hard glare. My eyes strayed towards the floor as I could already tell my goose was cooked. Why couldn’t I be good at lying like my older sister?

“Really? You didn’t eat any while Hans and I were gone?”

“No….” I mumbled. While technically true, my governess had always stressed a lie of omission was a lie in of itself.

“Hu? Speak up girl!”

“No, ma’am,” I said a little louder.

“It ain’t hard to tell that you’re lying to me. Why is there porridge missing?”

The tone of her voice told me this woman would not be manipulated by a soft small and a little flirting. What should I tell her, I asked myself. “I…I…didn’t eat it…I…hmmm…spilled some in the fire. It wasn’t my fault, the bowl just tipped over while I was looking for some cooked parts.”

“You spilled good food in the fire! That pot should have lasted two days, now we will be lucky to have enough for today!”

“Please don’t throw me out!” I don’t know where it came from, but my first thought was being tossed out into the winter storm.

“Toss you out?” Mrs Behr half laughed. It was the first time she hand broke her gruff demure since arriving home. “What would the Lord think if I did something so unmerciful as that. You’d surely die out there.”

I could feel the strain instantly float off my shoulders. Learning you will not be dying today is very stress revealing. Her next comment though instilled a different kind of stress.

“That isn’t to say you won’t wish you were died once I get done with your backside,” she said picking up a broad wooden spoon from the table next to the fireplace.

“What?” I half shrieked, half gasped. The next few moments felt like a whirlwind. The older woman took my by the forearm and planted me face down over the end of the freshly washed dinning table. The back of my dress flew up over my back while my shift slide up, until it was wrapped around my waist. With a pull of a drawstring, her target was exposed as my bloomers fell to the floor.

“No, please!” I pleaded.

“Quiet now girl, you wasted food and now you are going to get a good walloping for it.”

The spoon hand none of the hesitations of Wandel’s hand. The first spank was crisp, imparting a instant sting to my bottom. Abstractly the spoon felt like a smaller hairbrush, thought I wasn’t able to comprehend higher level thoughts at that moment.

The swats came fast and furiously, and my yelps of distress couldn’t keep up. She paddled one side for a while then switch to the other. When she moved lower, I got another burst of energy to resist the spanking. My increased wiggling and kicking did not even phase the older woman. She simply spanked on, burning up the lower sections of my bottom and the tops of my thighs.

My eyes were awash with tears when she returned to the top of my bottom to renew the sting in the areas where it had faded to a throb. At the moment it felt worst than any spanking I had previously received, though just about every spanking feels like the worst ever during the spanking. Looking back it would not have even made the top ten.

She stopped after giving my bottom a twice over with the wooden spoon. I was a crying mess, cursing myself for my earlier clumsiness and stupidity. Why had I taken so much? Why had I set the bowl on the side of the pot? Why didn’t I taste it first?

“Now girl, get the table set. The men will be back in shortly,” she said, returning to the pot.

The whole spanking was over as quickly as it started. There was little scolding or lecturing, just draped unceremoniously over the table and “walloped” as she put it. I did not know what to make of it, but I was certain that Mrs. Behr was a no-nonsense woman, and not someone I really cared to trifle again during my short stay here.

The true story of Goldie Locques

Southey flipped the latch and cast the lid of the old wooden chest open. The contents had been the most treasured possessions his late grandmother. Now it was all that he had left.

A shallow shelf greeted him, contain a dress that hadn’t been worth in a decade, the folder of legal documents relating to his portion of her estate and a well worm bible. Nothing of any actual value, he thought to himself as he wiggled the shelf free.

Setting aside the top shelf, he dug deeper, in hopes of finding some long lost treasure. Below he found half a dozen books, a music box and jewelry box. The jewelry box contained nothing more than a few old brass rings and a chain with silver cross. The cross might be worth something he thought to himself. carefully placing it in his vest pocket.

Setting the jewelry box on the floor, he next went for the music box. It was Swiss made, and even though he estimated it to be twice his age, with a turn of the handle it sprang to life. A gentle melody filled his small office with it’s mechanical tones.

Southey looked back into the box, hoping to find something of real value in the books. The first book was the ledger from his grandfather’s business while the second was a hymnal. The third book held some promise though. It had been a journal with wrote in a woman’s hand. Maybe it contained some secret family wealth, he thought wishfully.

“Dear Family,

I need to confess that I have lived a lie for many years. One day when, I’ve been laid to rest, I want you to know the truth, and not the story I have told you all many times.”

The rest of the page contained line upon line faded into obscurity by age, and a light dose of water. He flipped through a the pages until he found one not damaged by the water and continued reading.

—-

The snow started with the first rays of morning. Having traveled all night, the potential of an incoming storm scared me. A gusting wind from the north joined the snow, removing potential from the situation. The road I traversed offered little protection to the biting shards of iciness already piercing through my shawl. I knew I had to find shelter or I’d surely die in the coming storm.

I made the top of the hill to spot a river cutting across the valley with small farm house situated on it’s near banks. Shelter at last, I thought and used everything I had to reach the house before it disappeared into the white abyss.

I reached the barn first, where a heifers and chickens could be heard inside. I hadn’t seen anyone at the house during my trek from the road, but livestock meant the farm wasn’t abandoned. I continued on, trekking through the slowly building snow drifts.

I tried the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. Knocking and yelling brought no one either. The few low windows had their curtains pulled tightly shut, preventing me from seeing anything. A small window to the left of the door, and about an arm’s length above my head lacked the concealment of its colleagues.

Below the window, a rocking chair made a makeshift step-stool. The seat creaked under my weight as I peered into the house. I could see a gentle fire going in the fireplace with a large pot suspended in the center. Inside looked warm and cozy. I tried knocking on the window pane, but still there was no sign of life inside. I tried again, this time with more force. The second set shifted the window frame as it rotated slightly around a central axis. Wedging my numb fingers under the bottom of the frame, I pulled outwards, swinging the whole frame upwards. My face was greeted with a blast of warm air. I needed to get inside.

I took one last long glance around the field and when only snow was visible I decided I would have to crawl through the window. Not a very dignified prospect for a lady, but harsh times necessitated it.

At first I tried pulling myself through the window, but it was too high and I was too week to perform the aerobatic feet. I started climbing higher on the chair, placing a foot one armrest then another foot on the backrest. Both actions were rewarded with me getting more of my body into the window, but I couldn’t quite get through the threshold. I lowered my stance slightly then jumped as high as possible. Luckily I got my chest and stomach through the window, because the cracking that came from below implied I wouldn’t get another chance. A little wiggling and I tumbled forward into the warm confines of the house’s kitchen.

I laid on the kitchen floor for a few moments, wondering, hoping, someone would come find me. The floor felt considerably more comfortable that the barn I had slept in a day and a half ago. I seriously considered just falling a sleep, but a rumble in my gut said differently.

A large black pot suspended over fire was my first stop. Inside a slowly bubbling porridge looked so tasty. Two weeks ago I wouldn’t have even considered eating peasant food, but now, it looked spectacular. I scooped out a couple large portions into a clean looking bowl and grabbed a small wooden spoon.

“Eww!” I spit out the first bit of the semi-cooked porridge. It was a horrible mixture of hard oats and milk. I sat the bowl on the edge of the large pot so I could poke around in the pot and find any softer oats. No sooner had I picked up the ladle than the bowl toppled off the pot and into the fire. I cursed by bad luck. I could have put the porridge back into the pot and let it cook, because nothing in the pot was currently ready. Returning the lid, I went to scavenge for more food, or at least a better place to rest.

I found a small loaf of bread but nothing else was edible without some serious cooking. Ripping apart the bread into bite size chunks, I explored the rest of the house. The main floor consisted of a small salon type room and the kitchen. Upstairs was dividing into two bedrooms, a larger one with a broad bed and a smaller room with a smaller bed. A wardrobe stood in the corner of the smaller room, so I opened it out of curiosity. Inside were trousers and shirts of a small man and a stack of blankets. I pulled out the blankets and tossed them immediately on the bed. I needed the rest and the bed looked like a great place. Shedding my dress, I crawled beneath the blankets and settled in for a short sleep.

—–

“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” a voice pierced through my dreams and pulled me back to reality. The young man stood over me for a moment before pulling back the layers of blankets to reveal my shift.

“How dare you!” I cried out, pulling a blanket to cover myself as I scampered into a standing position.

“You come into our house and make a mess of my room and you ask how dare I? How dare you!” He may have looked like a boy, but is voice echoed the depth only present in men.

I was taken back by the indignation of the accusation. No boy has ever spoke to me like that and got away with it. My anger overtook me and I slapped him. The look on his face told a progression of emotions from shock to puzzlement to anger.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” he bellowed at me, pointing towards the doorway.

“You can’t throw me out in that!” I pointed towards the lone window in the room, complete with snow piled high upon the window sill. “I’ll surely die!”

His head followed the direction of my fingers towards the window, then back at me, ending him shaking his head. “You are right. You can stay until my father returns and he’ll deal with you!”

“Fine!” I said, plopping down on the bed.

“In the meantime, clean this mess up,” the boy said as he turned to leave me alone. He had reached the doorway when he added under his breath, “And maybe he won’t take the strap to you.”

It took me a moment to comprehend what he had mumbled, and even then I did not want to understand it. “WHAT!” I yelled after him. I shuffled over towards the door to find him at the top of the stairs, “What do you mean strap to me?” I knew what it meant to my father, but this was the country, maybe it was something else. Hopefully it was something else.

He paused at the top of the stairs, pivoting on his heel to face me. “You come in uninvited, make a mess then have an uppity attitude about it. He would have taken the strap to my backside had I did that at your age.”

“My age?” I’m not sure why the slight of my age was what I took away from his statement, when the strap was much more important. “I’m your senior!”

He laughed at that statement. “You are, what, ten, twelve?”

I don’t know why, but I slapped him again for that comment. “I turned eighteen this summer. I was to be married before I left. So can’t talk to me, you child.”

I was just starting to berate him when he interrupted me, “With an attitude like that, no wonder you chased him away.”

I was taken back. I brought my hand up to slap him again but he was prepared, catching my wrist well clear of his cheek. “That is enough!”

The next thing I knew, he spun me around and delivered a half dozen firm swats to by bottom. “Ahhh, stop!” I screeched. His spanks were half-hearted, but the suddenness surprised me.

“You ain’t going to take that strap well if that’s your reaction to my hand.” He let of my wrist, allowing me turn back towards him.

He brought up that strap again. My cousins from Scotland had mentioned a strap during their last visit and warned me to watch out if my husband ever bought one. They feared it more than their mother’s hairbrush. It was not something I wanted to experience, especially from some strange man. Maybe I could trick this boy into not escalating the situation.

“Wait, I’m sorry, Please we do not need this disagreement to go any farther.”

“Disagreement?” he laughed. “After your attitude, you deserve to be firmly punished, and father will see to that.”

I bit my lower lip. It was clear, that he wanted me punished. He started to leave again, when I stopped him. “Wait, you are right. I should be punished, but it should be you. I offended you, so you should punish me.” I paused a moment to see if he’d bite but there was no reaction so I added, “I’ll bend over and you can spank my bottom with your hand and this doesn’t need to go any farther.”

He paused to contemplate my offer. I batted my eye lashes and tried to use all my feminine charms to persuade him this was the better route. The shift from hardened glare to reluctant smile was all the indication I needed. “Please?”

“Fine, but you’ll go over my lap,” he said.

Yes, I thought. A light spanking over my shift would be nothing. I would play up my distress of it with some thrashing and this backwoods boy would be none the wiser. “If I must,” I answered adding a slight pout.

He directed us back to his room and immediately took station on the end of his bed. I was guided over his lap and I settled into as comfortable of a position I could get. The shift had ridden up on the back to expose the back of my knees which caused some embarrassment, as well as a chill to run up my underclothes and dance across my lower thighs.

I laid there for quite some time without anything happening. I didn’t know if he was waiting for my acknowledgement or reassurance, but nothing happened. I guessed his emotions from a moment had already faded and he was wondering whether this was a good idea anymore. No matter, we waited in this odd position in simple, nerve-racking silence. I wanted him to get on with it, and I was about to express such when I heard a slight mumble coming from behind me.

Thap! I could have laughed at the meek attempt to spank me, but I knew better and foreigned a gentle cry of distress. This was going to be easier than I thought. His previous slaps to my backside were harder than this attempt.

He repeated the gentle tap with the other-side of my bottom and I complemented his meek efforts with another slight of distress. It took a few more taps before he started becoming more comfortable, thought barely any more forceful, with his spanks. The speed picked up, which I let him know was having a greater effect on me, even if his spanks felt more like a one-handed applause than anything my governess had dished out.

We continued our little dance for quite sometime, until my bottom felt like I had warmed it in front of nice fire and his arm was sore. I hadn’t really expected it to be this easy and actually became worried that I wouldn’t be able to fake some tears for him.

“OK, I think you’ve been punished enough.” he said, easing me up. Luckily his shyness saved me and he immediately turned me towards his back wall and got up and walked straight to the doorway. With his back to me he said, “Please get dressed and clean up my room. My parents should be back soon.”

By the time I could pick up the blanket and turn around he was gone. I smiled to myself at my good luck. I just wondered if his parents would be this easy to manipulate. Probably.

To be continued…

Ivy returns to Walt and his princess

The story begins with Walt and his princess.

Ivy wandered the dormitory aimlessly while she attempted to absorb what she just witnessed. Her mind floated along in the same manner as her feet, first questions if it really was Jessie standing there, then if it was some kind of prank to more intimate questions whose obvious answers sent shivers down her spine. Insignificant of the question, or the implications presented by their possible answers, Ivy’s mind kept flashing back to the portrait of her room.

Like every wandering path, they always lead to an answer. Ivy’s happened to end at the door of her own room. Instinctively she started fishing through her pockets for her keys but on the second go around she realized they were sitting on the dresser, next to the door. In her haste to escape she had forgot her keys. Knocking was her only choice. It was definitely preferable to walking in on something like she did earlier.

Jessie took a quick peek through the peephole before slowly opening the door, hiding herself behind the door. Ivy entered hesitantly, unsure what she would find. Her mind had created some crazy ideas of what she would find, but none of it prepared her for reality. Walt and Jessie were dressed just like they had been previously, except Jessie’s shorts were in their correct location. Perfectly normal.

Everyone looked at each other in silence, waiting for someone to speak first. Walt believed it would be more appropriate for Jessie to start, though she couldn’t form the correct words in her head.

“I’m sorry I burst in before. I didn’t realize.” Ivy apologized suddenly.

“It’s OK.” Jessie mumbled. She flashed a quick glance down at Walt and he got the message loud and clear.

“I’m a little hungry. How would you ladies like a pizza?” Walt said, standing up from his seat on the futon.

“Ah, ok.” Ivy accepted politely. She was much more interested in the prospect of getting some alone time with Jessie than food, but college taught her never to refuse free food.

“Supreme, please?” Jessie asked, looking down and slightly rolling her shoulders in her best “I’m Your Princess” look. Walt gave her half smile, signally she was pushing it, but would get her way.

The last thing Walt heard as he closed the door behind himself was Ivy saying, “You get spanked!?”

Walt contemplating taking his truck across campus to the good local pizza joint, though the thought of finding a parking he could fit into dashed the idea. They would suffer with the chain place at the edge of campus. A block walk wouldn’t be too bad in the chilly Autumn air.

Walt knocked on Jessie and Ivy’s door about 30 minutes later, holding a cool large supreme pizza. Jessie opened the door a moment later, ushering him to the futon. He sat the box down on the small TV tray they had set up and each took a slice. The silence as they ate simply built upon the tense present since Walt had returned.

Ivy finally couldn’t take it any more and dropped her half-ate piece on the box. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. It was my fault, not Jessie’s. She shouldn’t have been sp..sp.. punished because of me. I was just lonely. And..and the party seemed like a good chance to meet someone and she didn’t want to go. She really didn’t. I convinced her. Then she didn’t want to drink, but I made her and she wanted to go home but I won’t. She was just being a good friend. It wasn’t her fault.”

Walt sat back and acted like a priest, allowing her to confess all her sins. He knew it would probably be the last saintly thing he did that evening. Jessie had explained everything to Walt while Ivy was wandering the dorm, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth. He wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page because things would turn sour quickly if either of the girls misunderstood his next actions.

“What do you propose?” Walt asked when Ivy stopped for more than a moment.

“Hmm…that I…hmmm…get…the same…” Ivy stammered.

Walt could see her attempt to skirt the issue by avoiding the magic word. “Which would be?”

Ivy played with the hem of her sweater just like Jessie did when she was in trouble. Walt had to take a deep breath to prevent a broad smile from spreading across his lips. He added a little angle to his eyebrows to increase the pressure on Ivy, and reinforce the seriousness of the situation she was attempting to place herself in.

“Ah…spaaannnking.” Ivy finally said, barely holding back the tears she could feel forming at the edges of her eyes.

“And what kind of spanking do you deserve?” Walt asked. Clarity was essential for the punishment to work, but was especially important due to the lack of any relationship between Walt and Ivy.

“Hu?” Ivy didn’t really understand the question.

“Jessie got it bare-bottom with the hairbrush. Do you believe you deserve a spanking exactly like the one Jessie received?”

“Yes…” Ivy eked out.

Walt stood up and gave one last look at Jessie before continuing. His princess stood in nearly the same spot where she had been an hour earlier when Ivy walked in, albeit facing the room rather than the wall. Her left thumb was firmly pressed against her lips as she attempt to avoid chewing on her nails. A quick little nod sent Walt attention back to her roommate.

“OK, bend over your desk with your forearms flat on the desk.”

Ivy kept her head down as she looked sideways at Jessie then back to Walt. She knew she was the perpetuator of this situation and retreating at this point scared her more than continuing.

She sulked over to her desk and bent over as was requested.

Walt scooped up the hairbrush off Jessie’s desk before getting into position behind Ivy. “Jessie got 18, 42 then 25 swats. She knew better than to slack off and since this is your first time, I am going to half the number for you, this time.”

Jessie didn’t miss the sigh of relief from the bent girl. She wished Walt would have let her off that easy. From his previous comments, she was a little worried he might bend her over again once he completed with Ivy.

“Naughty girls don’t get to keep their panties up.” Walt leaned forward slightly, hooking his index fingers under her waistband. After a pause he slowly pulled them down until her yoga pants and panties were at mid thigh. He took a step to his left, presenting the virgin bottom to the room.

“Do not stand up until I tell you, nor attempt to reach back and cover you bottom, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Ivy didn’t know why she added sir, but it seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

“OUCH!” Ivy yelped. The first swat bit hard into her soft flesh, sending ripples flowing out while leaving an angry red oval behind.

“Awwwooocchhhheee!” Ivy wiggled her bottom about as the second swat landed on her other cheek.

“I hope you now understand this isn’t no joke.”

“ahh.. yes sir..AHHHH!” Ivy was interrupted by another swat biting down.

Ivy tried to stay strong, like she had read in all those stories, but reality hurt too much. Tears streamed down her face as Walt reached a dozen. Her emotions flowed with the tears, paying games in her head. She flashed from thankful to resentful to asking herself why she even thought this was a good idea. Resent faded around the second dozen and by the end of the third dozen, she was only thankful. Thankful, sorry and sore.

“I think that is enough for now. You can get up and place yourself against the wall like you saw Jessie earlier.” Walt took a step back from the crying girl and looked at his girl. She still at her thumb at her lips. “Have you been chewing on your nails?”

“No Sire!” Jessie said quickly, removing her hand from in front of her face.

“Good.” He said while stretching out his right shoulder. All that spanking begins to hurt he thought to himself. He chuckled at the joke, even if the girls wouldn’t have agreed it was funny.

Ivy moved to the prescribed spot and Walt returned to his previous seat on the futon, leaving Jessie standing awkwardly in the center of the room. Her bottom had a mild throb and she didn’t want to entice any new fire down here by sitting down, but she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable the longer she just stood there. She thought about laying down on her bed, but she was concerned he might think she was being antisocial and give her tail another workout.

She settled on a half sitting/half leaning against Walt position on the futon as he watched the news.

“Are you going home tonight or staying here?” Jessie asked Walt at the commercial break between news programs.

“I brought an overnight bag in case it got to late. I figure I should run out and grab it,” Walt got up and started towards the door, with Jessie in tow.

“I love you Daddy!” Jessie said quietly when they reached to door, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug.

Walt bent down and kissed Jessie before opening the door. “I almost forgot, your mom called yesterday and said your parents would be arriving on Tuesday next week.”

“Why did she call you?”

“You dad wanted to ask if I could hide your Christmas present so they could fly up at Christmas.”

“You aren’t going to let me peak are you!?” Jessie narrowed her eyes at Walt. Her eyes popped back open when Walt’s hand swatted down onto her backside. “Ouch!”

“Not unless you’d prefer more of that,” Walt smirked.

Jessie twisted her mouth to the side as she contemplated her husband’s offer. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Walt and his princess

Walt tried to focus on road and not the destination. It was especially hard to do this evening because of the stressful cause of this trip. Normally he preferred to make this trip in the daylight, rather than the darkened evening of late autumn. A few light flurries didn’t help circumstances.

The small city appeared suddenly out of the corn fields and patches of woods. It was a quaint town, with a couple dozen small business focused on serving the towns primary employer or the dozens of farmers in the surrounding countryside. It was at this point in the drive that Walt often yearned to sell his house in the larger city and move out here. The thought of at least an hour commute to work every morning always quashed the dream.

Walt made his way down the two lane streets, occasionally turning right or left as needed. Arriving at his destination, he was happily surprised to find an empty angle parking spot. Often he had to drive around the block a few times to find one or try to parallel park the 3/4 ton Silverado. The later would be a torture even the best driving instructor, especially with the popularity of Honda Civic’s in the area.

The burly construction manager overtook the building with the determination of a Caesar conquering Gaul. The night security guard only gave a half-hearted attempt to interrupt his progress. The comfortable confines of his desk and the fact Walt appeared to have 6 inches, 50 pounds and 30 years on the teenager did help persuade him into any real action. Walt didn’t pay his meek questions any notice, entering the stairwell and climbing to the 4th floor, two stairs at a time.

—-

“Daddy!?” Jessie exclaimed with a clear mixture of excitement and trepidation. She was always happy to see him, though worried why he hadn’t called. Her concerns didn’t prevent her from attacking him with a bear hug.

“Hi baby,” Walt replied damply, though joining his offspring in the warm embrace for a moment.

“So why are you here?” she asked, ushering him into her dorm room. She picked up on his sullen attitude as soon as she closed the door. “It isn’t Grandma Winthrop, is it?”

“No, no, Grandma Winthrop is actually doing better. The new medication is really helping.”

“Oh, good,” she relaxed into her desk chair at the good news. “So why are you here?”

“Well, we need to talk.” he said as he unclipped his phone from its holster.

Those four words sent a shiver down the girl’s spine. Walt only ever used that phrase when he needed to have a serious discussion with her, and if grandma was doing better, it probably involved her.

“I found these online yesterday and I wanted to discuss them with you.” He made a few swipes on his phone before passing the device to her.

She already knew the basic premise of the phone’s content, the extend of content was the only question. It only took her a glance to know he had seen everything.

“You care to explain?”

“Daddy…hmmm….hmmm…I can explain…I…” She knew lying would make her predicament worst though saying the truth would probably make things worst also. Nothing was her best bet.

“You skipped class, went out partying when you should have been studying and then failed your exam? That sound about right?” Walt glare bored straight into Jessie’ soul.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, looking down to avoid the look of disappointment wrote across his face.

“You are always sorry that you got caught, I am disappointed that you put yourself in this situation.” He let the words soak in for a few moments as he looked down onto the pig-tails sprouting from her head. He was glad she was too ashamed to look at him, because she could bring him to his knees at will.

“I now, I’m sorry,” her voice faded off with each word.

“You know what this means. Now where is my princess’ hairbrush?”

“DADDY!” Jessie squealed, instantly regaining her composure. “PLEASE NOT HERE!”

“Yes here,” he stated. “your hairbrush?”

“Please!” she tried again, raising her voice slightly while opening her eyes extra wide. He responded with a harder glare, reminding himself he had to be strong. He knew if she really started pouting, she’d melt his heart and he’d just forgive her.

She was doomed and there was nothing she could do now to save herself. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She swept her eyes down and away from Walt’s glare. “It’s there some other way?” she asked, even as she fetched the wooden hairbrush from atop her dresser.

She stared at the highly polished maple backside for a moment, remembering an incident shortly after she moved into the dorms. Ivy and her had been getting ready to go out when her roommate commented about what a nice hairbrush she had. It hadn’t been her intention to bring it with her to college, rather it was insisted upon her.

“Come on, no more dawdling.” She handed him the instrument of doom, then played with the hem of her college sweatshirt as she waited for more instructions. He hadn’t yet sat down, so she doubted she’d be going over his lap. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, since going over his lap meant a more embarrassing, thought generally less painful spanking.

“Where is your exam at?” Without thinking, she turned and fished the stapled sheets from a folder on her desk. “I’ll take that. Get out a sheet of paper and something to write with. We are going to go through your exam until you know ever answer.”

She groaned at the revelation, though fetched a blank sheet of paper and a mechanical pencil.

“Bend over your desk,” he commanded. Initially she had her legs quite close to the back of her pushed-in desk chair, though a few taps with the hairbrush on the top of her thighs prompted her to move her feet backwards, until her torso was nearly horizontal. Walt wasted no time preparing his target by dropping Jessie’ shorts and panties.

“What is the formula for the measurement of kinetic energy?” he asked.

“KE equals mass times velocity squared.” she answered with as much confidence allowed by her vulnerable position. CRACK! “Aheee” she cried out when the hairbrush bit into her tender flesh.

“Correct,” he stated. “What is the formula for momentum?”

“ah…force times … ah ….mass?” she answered then tensed up in preparation for another spank. He didn’t disappoint, bringing the makeshift paddle down in five quick blows.

“Wrong. Momentum is mass times velocity.”

Walt continued through her exam, giving her a single swat for correct answers and five for incorrect answers. She passed through the ten multiple choice questions with only 18 swats. It was more than enough to focus her attention on her stinging bottom, thought not quite enough to draw out more than the occasional tear.

The short answer questions were her downfall, on both the exam and her current resolve. She only answered two of the ten correctly, and paid for it. The sting of the little paddle quickly overtook her, reducing her to a teary mess. Jessie could barely see the sheet of paper in front of her when they reached the calculation problems.

She didn’t even try on the five calculation problems, simply surrendering to the fact she would take another 25 swats and hopefully it would be over. When Walt noticed her giving up, it actually became easier for him to spank her. Until this point, every tear she shed drove a spike into his heart, but when she gave up, it reinvigorated his annoyance with her. Her lack of determination was a constant conflict between them, often ending with her in a similar position.

Walt removed his hand from her lower back and she instantly bolted upright. She danced in a circle, clutching her flaming bottom. He scratched his eyebrow, avoiding watching her obscene gesture while he gave her a few moments to regain her senses. “Why don’t you go stand over there for a while,” he said pointing to the only clear section of wall in the dorm room.

Whipping tears from her eyes, Jessie obeyed him with tiny steps. She knew what was expected and crossing her arms behind her while holding up the back of her sweatshirt. Her glowing bottom would be on display for some unknown length of time and she just hoped it ended before Ivy returned. What would Ivy say, she asked herself. Any response would be mortifying.

Walt took a seat on the futon and flipped on the News. He would have preferred to read the paper or anything quietly, though in his haste he had forgot to grab it. The News would have to do, even if it gave Jessie a sense of time. An hour of reflection though would do her well.

Forty minutes into Jessie’s vigil, Ivy decided to crash the party, sweeping into the room before Walt or Jessie could react.

“Hello,” Ivy said, tossing her book-bag onto the futon next to Walt. “Jessie, you didn’t say….”

“YEEKS!” Jessie screeched, at the intrusion. She instinctively turned to her right, away from Ivy and Walt, while shielding her front by pulling he sweatshirt down. The action had the undesirable effect of highlighting what had only been slightly noticeable under the back of the over-sized shirt.

“Uhmmm Uhmmm, sorry,” Ivy grabbed her book-bag and almost ran out the door.

To be Continued…

Bonus points for anyone who figures out what happens in part II. 🙂

Love Our Lurkers Day

Welcome Lurkers

Welcome to all you out there who like stopping by silently. You know who you are. You enjoy reading by prefer your anonymity. I should know, I was one of you not so long ago. Well take a baby step out of the shadows and leave a message. I have turned off most all of the restrictions so you can stay anonymous if you like.

For you newer lurkers, you may want to check out these stories:

Lastly, many thanks to Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts for organizing Love Our Lurkers Day -2013 version.

Mommy ate all my candy

“DADDDY!” Julie cried as my little girl rounded the corner and she went straight for my legs. She was normally happy to see me when I got home from work, especially on a Friday, when I would get home early. Tears though were unusual. I dropped my suitcase as two little arms encircled my thighs.

“Whats wrong?” I asked, scoping her into my arms.

Her little arm whipped away a few tears before blabbering, “Sniff, Mommy ate all my candy!”

Eating 5 pounds of candy in one day didn’t seem like Emma. Eating that much candy was even much more me and I had the sweet tooth between my wife and I. She preferred the really expensive dark chocolate to Skittles and Reece’s. The only time I remember her eating any kids type candy was during come of her crazy cravings when she was pregnant with Julie.

I carried Julie on my hip and followed the sound of the TV in search of some answers. Emma was sitting on the couch working on her laptop while watching a cooking show. “Honey, why does Julie think you ate all of her Halloween candy?”

“I didn’t eat all of her candy. It’s in the cabinet above the fridge.”

“But…but…you said you did!” Julie cried stuttered through her sniffles. Her little tear stain sleeve and puffy little eyes were pulling at my heart strings. She was daddy’s little girl and we both knew what that meant.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t eat all your candy.”

“But…” Julie’s mind hadn’t quite comprehended the prank and I knew it probably wouldn’t until she saw her candy safe and sound. With a glare at my wife, I took Julie back to the kitchen to find her long-lost candy.

The big green bowl of sweets had been exactly where Emma had said. I had to set Julie on the floor so could get it out. I brought the bowl over to the counter and Julie hopped up on one of the bar stools.

“MY CANDY!” she yelled for joy upon seeing the bowl was full. No sooner had I let go, than she pulled the entire bowl tight towards her body and hugged it with all her might. I was about to tell her that she could have one piece when I noticed her broad smile had disappeared. “I think some is missing,” she said, crunching her eyebrows like she was trying to figure out a mystery.

“Hu? It looks all here to me.”

She started fishing around, looking for something. “But all the Reece’s are missing.”

“Are you sure? They are probably just on the bottom.”

“Yea, they are all gone,” she said nodding her head in confirmation. “Ah, its OK, I don’t like them,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders then went back to admiring her stash.

I allowed her to take one piece before I returned the bowl to it’s normal spot on the counter. It was within her line of sight, but generally outside of her direct reach. I sent her off to play so I could find out the whole story of what happened this afternoon.

“So why did you hide Julie’s Halloween candy?” I asked, slouching into the recliner.

“Oh, there is this contest online about the best reaction of kids when the are told that their parents ate all their Halloween candy. Julie’s is great. You want to see?” Emma started to turn around her laptop but I cut her off.

“No, not really. You put our daughter in tears for some dumb contest?”

“Oh she’ll get over it. And the grand prize is a $10,000 college scholarship. Anyways she was pestering me about eating that stuff all afternoon after I told her she could only have one piece after lunch.”

“She’s four and Halloween was yesterday. Of course it is all she can think about. It was still mean.”

“She’ll be OK in a little bit. She probably won’t even remember by bedtime.” Emma said dismissively.

She was probably right. Hopefully Julie will have forgotten about the whole episode by bedtime. I doubted Emma would be so forgetful come bedtime. I got up and started towards my office. I paused behind Emma’s spot on the couch and leaned down to whisper, “Hopefully, but I doubt you’ll be forgetting it come your bedtime.”

A shiver went down Emma’s back when the words hit home. She pulled an annoyed face at me before returning to her laptop.

—-

Dinner and TV time passed as if nothing had happened. Julie was her ultra-cheery self and didn’t even mention anything about her candy until I was ushering her upstairs for bedtime. Emma and I switched off bedtime duty with me getting the easier Friday/Saturday/Sunday set while she took the other days.

“Daddy?” Julie stopped on the third step and looked at me all serious.

“Yes, baby?” I knelt on the first step so we were roughly eye-level.

“Can I take my candy up to my room so Mommy doesn’t eat it again? I promise I won’t eat any!” She bangs bounced across her forehead as she nodded furiously, as if it would help convince me.

“Mommy won’t take any of your candy. I’ll guard it for you.”

“You promise?” she held up three fingers on her right hand in a tiny mock scout’s sign.

“I promise.” I said mimicking her.

“OK.” She paused for a moment before adding, “mommy can have the Reece’s, I don’t like them. Oh, and those sour ones. Yuck!”

I could barely prevent myself from laughing at the sour face she made. “OK.” She padded off up the stairs, her teddy bear dragging behind her. I followed her upstairs, helping her go through her bedtime routine before tucking her and providing a reassuring kiss.

I was just about to turn off her room light when she said, “Don’t forget you promised.”

“I won’t,” I reassured before leaving the room a glow in the princess nightlight and closing her door.

I spent the next half an hour rummaging around the master bedroom and my office, finishing up a few odds and ends from work before checking on Julie. I peaked in to find her lightly snoring away. She may not have gotten Emma or my personality, but she did end up with our allergies. The benadryl would get rid of the congestion soon and keep her out well into the morning.

Emma was back working on her laptop when I returned to the living room. “A little girl didn’t forget about her candy getting stolen today. You think a big girl needs a reminder also?”

“No,” she said ruefully.

“I disagree. It was a very naughty thing to do.” The implication hung heavily between us.

“But…but..it was for her college fund!” Emma look up at me with huge doe eyes.

“It doesn’t make it any less naughty. And not telling her immediately afterwards was extra mean.”

“I now,” she conceded. “But…but… she was annoying me.”

“And now you are annoying me. It’s time you get your hiney upstairs.”

“But, Julie will hear!”

“Benadryl will prevent that, but if you are still concerned about waking her, I know a pair of panties which won’t be needed.”

The last part silenced anymore protests. Emma hated it when she was made to chew on her panties, but we had found them to be extremely effective when needing to conceal her cries of pain, or pleasure. The panty gag coupled with a Teflon spatula worked as a very effective combination since Julie had been born.

With a pout, Emma closed her laptop and stomped upstairs. That little act of defiance would earn her a couple extras. Extras were an odd concept for us, since I never used a set number of spanks, rather just going until she was appropriately punished.

I gave her a few minutes to get ready before switching off the TV and joining my wife in our bedroom. As was customary, she changed into just a baby-doll nightie and planted her nose in the open corner by our bathroom. The corner-thing was something she added to this little ritual shortly after we got married and I still have no idea where she got it from. I find it cute, and appropriate, so I have never pressed the issue.

I left her there while I made a few final preparations. I fished our tawse out of my underwear drawer and moved a few of the decorative throw pillows into a stack at the end of the bed. I originally was mad when Emma bought those overpriced decorations, though now she regrets the purchase since I found a practical use for them.

I slipped the tawse into my back pocket then slipped behind Emma. “I think it’s time we got down to business.” My whisper sent shiver down her spine. I took a step back, smiling as I watched my beautiful wife close her eyes and take a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself. Without a word, she shuffled her feet over to the bed and gracefully draped herself over the stack of pillows. Her nightie rode up in the back, offering up her creamy bottom.

“She is can be so damn sexy. I’m going to have a taste after I get done,” I thought to myself. “But that would have to wait.”

I slipped the implement from my back pocket and took up position to her left. Normally with a punishment spanking I would start immediately with the implement of choice, and this time would have been no different had I realized something was missing. In particular her panties were missing from her mouth.

Shifting the tawse to my left hand, I started with a few dozen easy hand swats, imparting a nice pink hue to her normally khaki complexion.

“Forget your panties?” I asked rhetorically.

“Grrr…they are in the hamper,” I could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn’t want to tell me, but knew better to disobey.

She’d hide the pink, bikini-style panties inside the jeans she was wearing today. I unballed them and made sure they were inverted before I allowed her to bite down. Honestly, they were more symbolic than practical, especially since most of the garment resided outside of her actual mouth. Only the gusset was actually inside, but having that small bit of material to bite was all that she required to stop from crying out.

“That’s better, now we can begin.” I commented, getting back into position. I held the strip of leather behind her bottom, taking aim but careful not to actually touch her. I wanted the first one to be a surprise. I raised the tawse high over my right shoulder and brought it crashing into her bottom. Her moan told me I had hit the proverbial nail on the head.

The next swats were quicker and less forceful, but paced after 10 seconds or so to allow her to fully absorb the sensations imparted by the tawse.

After a half dozen swats, she was starting to wiggle her hips about, clearly feeling the sting. At a dozen, the bending knees and pounding fists joined her antics. At two dozen her sniffles were added to the mix. At a three dozen she had given the on the fussing about and relaxed into muted sobs.

I admired at my handiwork in painting those two globes crimson. My portrait of contrition was quite complete yet, but wanted to let my work simmer a little bit before I finished. It offered her a chance to settle down while thinking about how she got herself into this position. I particularly wanted her to think about the poor taste of such a prank.

Waiting until the sobs had dissipated, I bent directly over her back, allowing my jeans to brush against her tender bottom. She wiggled her hips in a mixture of avoidance and enticement. I slipped the panties from her lips before asking, “Are you sorry?”

“Yes, sir…” she responded with vigor than someone should have after a dozen with the tawse. A slight wiggle of her hips told me more than any words spoken.

“I think a couple more are needed.” She groaned at the proclamation, but didn’t say anything. I slid my hand down her back as I stood back up, letting finger tips linger at the crown of her left cheek. “Remember, don’t cry out,” I taunted.

I stepped back and laid the tawse across the center of her left cheek and let it hang for a second. I waited for her to suck in a breath before I brought the handle straight back then quickly forward in an upwards arc. The the lower of the two tails caught her exactly where I had intended, a the junction of left buttock and thigh. The swat took her by surprise and I’m sure it took all of her strength not to cry out. I waited for her wiggling to die down before repeating with a backhand swat to her right side.

Emma took a minute to regain her composure be from the last blistering swats before I could help her up. Like always, once she was on her feet she instantly locked her arms around me in a tight hug, burying her face into my chest while I lightly kneaded her bottom.

“What you did was mean.” I told.

“I know.” she said ruefully. “I’ll make it up to her in the morning. I just had such a bad craving for Reece’s this morning. Then after eating them all I worried about what Julie would say. Then she was bugging me for some and I saw the contest online and I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“A craving for Reece’s?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeaaaa….” she said with a roll of her eyes. There was only one reason she craved Reece’s.