The true story of Goldie Locques – Part 3

The story begins with The true story of Goldie Locques and continues with The true story of Goldie Locques – Part 2.

The men returned shortly from their trip to the barn. The first one entered with his cloak pulled low over his eyes and carrying a full load of firewood. A light dusting of snow finished off the picturesque woodsmen look. Big, burly and stronger than an ox. The kind of man I liked.

I tried to be helpful to the attractive older Behr, whimsically snatching the top log off his stack. I severely underestimated its weight and promptly dropped it to the floor from by single hand grasp. Each log weighted more than a full bolt of cloth and my mistake took both hands to lift off the floor and carry to the reserve next to the fireplace.

As I rose with the log, the cloaked man shook his head to reveal Wendel Behr, and not the expected father. Those eyes as blue as the sky joined his gentle smile in cutting through my emotional defenses. I could feel my flush out of embarrassment, but it wasn’t the bad type of embarrassment associated with a shameful act, rather it was that innocent awkwardness feeling of a young girl confronted by her first crush. My eyes and throat required constant watering as I stood gazing at the handsome man before me. Mrs Behr’s hand helped me break my gaze though. A quick swat to my still smarting posterior provided all the focus I needed to transfer the logs from Wendel’s arms to the reserve stack, abet one log at a time.

With arms empty I immediately tried to make him more comfortable by assisting him in the removal of his cloak and coat. Sliding the flowing cloak over his shoulders provided me with a whiff of pine, sweat and something else. The something else melted my legs while spawning butterflies in my stomach. It was so wonderful and irresistible that I had to get more. I got closer to him as took his coat, being regarded with another couple sniffs of wonder.

Mr. Behr joined us as I was helping Wendel from his coat. He also carried wood, though transferred it to Wendel all at once, rather than waiting for my piecemeal approach. I was quite glad at this choice since my arms were starting to tire, and more importantly it allowed me to admire Wendel’s exercise his strength. Why had I not noticed him earlier?

I did not have much time to dwell on the question, with Mrs. Behr immediately demanded my attention in finishing the preparations for supper. A few bowls, spoons and a large pot of porridge soon decorated the table. Alongside the table stood two long benches which served as chairs. Mr. Behr and Wendel sat on one bench, while I gingerly took a seat across from Wendel. It was hard not squirming when my bottom made contact with the hard wood, but I pride and attraction prevented me from show him anything was wrong. I am an adult lady and a spanked bottom was not very ladylike, even if he had performed such earlier.

Over dinner, the Behr’s peppered me with questions. Initially it was just simple things like what was my name, where was home, and why was I out on the road alone. All questions I had previously answered multiple times during my journey. Eventually the questions became harder, focusing on my family’s business and religion. No one had yet to ask about either subject, causing me to stumble through my lie filled responses.

During the entire meal, Mr Behr sad barely five words; four of which were “yes please” and “thank you.” Consequently, when he directed his attention to me I was startled.

“Miss Locques, you seem like a nice young lady,” Mr. Behr said. “You vocabulary and manners indicate you were brought up in a good household, where a girl is taught the difference from right and wrong, and where one is responsible for their actions.” He told me directly. “I try to run good household also. I know Wendel here said you stay here while the storm passed, and I have no problem with you staying here for as long as you wish, but you will obey the rules of this household. I doubt they are much different than your parent’s household. Do you want to continue staying here?”

“Yes, Sire,” I answered, uneasy where he was going with this line of statements. I did not really have much of a choice, and everyone at the table knew it.

“Then do you have anything you would like to tell me?” He asked.

I shifted my eyes over to Wendel, who had started to become more animated. He look nervous and also a little scared by the direction of his father’s questions. I doubt he would have been scared, had he said something about our little encounter upstairs. I had never left Mrs. Behr’s side since the trip over the table, so this was about something else. But I could not think of anything else I had did wrong. With as much confidence I could muster, I answered, “Ah…No sir.”

“I know Wendel let out some details when he said you were caught in the storm and asked for shelter. You broke into our house and he was only doing what he thought was the honorable thing, and protect you by leaving out those details.” I was playing with my hands as he revealed what he knew. “You probably even thanked his generosity with kiss.” This statement caused me to blush and I thought back to laying over Wendel’s lap in a very unladylike manner. I wish it had just been a kiss.

“Pa, she was cold and stranded outside in the storm. No one was here and she was just trying to protect herself. Please do not be mad at her.” Wnedel interrupted. I just swooned over him more as he became my valiant knight trying to defend his damsel.

“I can forgive that, the storm was coming and a city girl like you probably feared for your life. Then there is the issue of you stealing food.” How did he know about that? Mrs Behr had not said anything to him about it. I glanced in her direction and she seemed as surprised as me.

“But I can not forgive you sitting her and intentionally lying to us. I know you are not from Munich. There are no Locques in Munich. The only Locques I know of are in Hamburg,” He continued.

The older man’s glare burned right through to my soul. Unlike like the couple other times I had been caught in a lie during my journey, it hurt. I felt like I had betrayed their trust after they had been so nice. There was something in his tone that reminded me of my father when I was a little girl. A mixture of caring, compassion and disappointment. It hurt deep inside.

“When I was younger, I would do business with your grandfather when I was up that way. I do not know why you lied to us, but I you knew it was wrong.” Mr Behr paused to let the words soak in.

Wendel and Mrs. Behr craned their neck towards me at the revelation. I opened my mouth to respond, but my tongue refused to work. A hundred responses flowed through my mind, but I could not speak any of them.

Mr Behr then let the hammer fall. “You and I are going to spend some time with my strap in the barn, or you can leave this house and never come back again. After which you will be repent for all the sins you have committed on this holy day, including breaking my chair outside.”

“What? No, please!” I instinctively pleaded. “You cannot throw me out into that!” I pointed to the window where snow started to pile on the sill.

“I am not throwing you out, I am giving you a choice, stay her and pay for your sins or leave on your own regard.”

“You can’t do that to a lady!”

“A lady takes responsibility for her actions, you are not much more than a grown child.”

“But….but….but” I couldn’t think of anything else. I put up my hands like they would protect me, even though my backside would was more in need of protecting.

“I can see what your answer is. Wendel you mind lending Miss Locques your coat for a little bit?” Mr. Behr asked his son.

“No sir.” Wendel said, shooting me a compassionate frown.

The storm outside was not the only one brewing as I was dressed and dragged out the door. I tried resisting, but no one took them seriously, least of all Mr. Behr. My emotions were a complete mess; with everything from the embarrassment of my upcoming situation, to the shame of my lies to my infatuation for Wendel all swirling around inside.

Before long Mr. Behr and myself inside the narrow room adjacent to the barn. Two cords of split wood were neatly stacked from floor to ceiling along one wall while some cut boards and other tools lined the other wall. A large cutting block sat near the doors we entered while a pair of heavily reinforced sawhorses sat in front of the doors at the opposite end of the room.

“You even been taken to the woodshed?” Mr Behr asked, shaking snow from his cloak.

“No sir,” I managed to say as I was escorted towards the sawhorses. Each had a sallow curve cut into the top, presumably to hold a log in place while it was being cut. This shallow curve though was where my hips were destined to lie.

“Well, it’s a place were you’ll learn to follow the rules,” Mr. Behr said as moved one of the sawhorses away from the wall then took the coat from my shoulders. The cold air in the woodshed sent a shiver though my body. I did not have much time to complain, as he unceremoniously bent me over the sawhorse.

I stayed there looking at the dirt floor for a moment, while I my response. Should I plead forgiveness, beg for mercy or protest these barbaric actions? The latter probably wouldn’t work, though the former two might. He was a man after all.

My thoughts where interrupted when he tossed my skirts over my back, revealing my bloomers. I squeaked in protest, though he didn’t care as he unfastened the flap buttons, revealing my bare posterior. The cold air reaching such an intimate location startled me. I instantly tensed everything down there, which only reignited the previous tingling I had felt when gazing at Wendel.

“What…no..I..” I tried protesting but nothing that came out made sense. Mr Behr said something, which I did not understand due to my focus on getting my tongue to work correctly.

I have felt the slap of a palm, the wail of a hairbrush and even the bite of the junior cane, but nothing compared to the explosion of that strap. It was, well indescribable. I doubt childbirth even hurt that much.

The second stroke shot stars through my eyes. I tried to claw myself upright while I cried out in pain, but a strong hand on my lower back gently held me in place. That really messed up my head. How could someone creating such a barbarian act with that strap have such a compassionate touch? He didn’t allow me much time to dwell on the question, as the third stroke refocused my attention on my poor bottom.

I wailed like a banshee for the rest of the punishment. Something in my mind replaced the whole experience with a simple memory; DO NOT EVER DO THAT AGAIN! I am glad, because I probably would have had nightmares, even if I deserved it.

“Pa, can I take her to my room and let her rest there?” Wendel asked as he took his coat.

“Go ahead.”

Wendel lead me to his room and gently laid me on his bed. He left me there for a few moments as he left the room, returning with a jar in hand. He closed the door before asking if he could lift my skirts. I was crying to much to really answer and must have nodded my head, because the next thing I realize was my skirts were over my back and my bloomers were around my knees. I didn’t really care about modesty at the moment, especially since the cool air felt good on my hot bottom.

“Eekks!” I cried out when Wendel touched his cream covered fingers to my bottom. The cream was much colder than the air, and helped temper the fire I felt there. He rubbed it around and around, working it into the bruised muscles before getting another dose. His slow gentle motions, mixed with my emotional exhaustion and a light humming by him, lulled me to sleep.

I woke up the next morning feeling at peace for the first time in months. Mr. and Mrs. Behr treated me like their own daughter and I tried to help out as much as I could. The storm had passed during the night, giving way to a bright sun dancing across the snow covered hills. It looks so peaceful and pretty. I wished everything would stay like this forever.

Wendel spent the rest of the winter courting me, with us enjoying each others company more than once. After Christmas, Pa Behr, as I took to calling him, put me under Wendel’s care, which including teaching me the realities of a farm and providing adequate discipline as needed. After Easter, Wendel, and I made the trip north, to see my parents and for him to ask my hand in marriage. My two week journey south on foot took less than a day to cover on horseback. It was a long trip on horseback, especially since I had spent the previous evening with Wendel in the woodshed. It was not all bad though. His touches afterwards were always delicate.

Mother and father were happy to see me, and even happier when Wendel ask for permission to wed. I know father would have preferred my previous suitor, but accepted Wendel. The land Wendel brought help……


Southey flipped the page and found only water logged blurs. What about the land and wealth brought to the marriage? There was nothing else legible in the entire journal. He grabbed another book from the chest to find it filled with random recipes. The next book was an almanac. The next, a hymnal. None of the rest of the books were journals.

He slumped down beside the chest as he flipped through the journal. He had never known any of this about his grandparents. Even so, it would not help his current financial problems. He shook his head in disappointment as he looked over the books spewed about. One of the titles caught his eye, “The Works of William Shakespeare.”

The story in the journal was intriguing, what if he retold it? “The story of Goldie Locques and the Three Behrs,” he said to himself. “I’ll need to change a few details, but it could work as a child’s tale.”

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… 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.

Double Delight

My phone vibrated with the incoming text “wht u do 2nite?” “nothin” I responded to Candi. She had to know of a party. Candi is the stereotypical blonde. Really don’t know how she got into State, but she sure did make it fun. Candi knew of a party every weekend, and multiple parties on most weekends. I started tutoring her in algebra during our first semester, and we quickly became good friends. She is actually quite intelligent, but lacks all common sense. She’s also tall blonde and gorgeous, which really helps with the party invites.

“Want 2 party? 1 in UP” Candi texted back. A party in University Park, cool!

“Yea when” I texted.

“Pick U up in 30, bring suit” Candi responded. Thirty minutes would not be much time to get ready. First, which bathing suit should I wear? The blue one or the Pink one? The teal one from VC’s Pink collection has a boyshorts bottoms, which really shows off my ass. Definitely the right choice. I slip into the Lycra two-piece and check my self out in the mirror. I don’t compare to Candi, but I should be able to get a guy or two’s attention. A pair of cutoffs and college t-shirt were all I needed. Keys, cellphone and purse and I was off.

“Mom, I’m going to go out with Candi,” I told Mom as I passed by the living room.

“Have you ate yet?”

“I’ll get something with Candi,” I told her as I dug out my sandals from the back of the closet. My phone vibrated across the floor behind me, probably signaling Candi’s arrive outside.

“OK honey, but be back by midnight. I want to go shopping in the morning.”

“Ok, bye!” I yelled as I walked out the front door. Candi was waiting for me in her convertible.

“You ready for some fun?” Candi asked.

“Got it on.” I said sliding into the passenger’s seat.

The party was great! Hot guys, cool party, good food and lots to drink. I tried to keep my drinking in check but the guy making drinks was good. He was cute too. He kept making me special drinks that were irresistible. A pina collada, mojito and some mango thing I couldn’t sit down.

For all his work, I let him take me for a swim once the sun went down. We didn’t swim much, rather we just made out in the shadows of the pool. I dry humped him as we made out and then just reached into his shorts and gave him a hand-job. It was so sexy knowing everyone around could see us, but no one knew what we were doing. Well I guess they could see us kissing, but nothing more.

We eventually moved on into the dinning room where some card games were going on. I’d never heard of it, but tried my hand at Egyptian Rat Screw. I turned out to be good at it, winning three games. I was in the kitchen when I noticed it was nearly 1 AM. Damn I should’ve been home an hour ago. Candi was no where in sight but personal bartender

“Hey, did you drive? I got to get going and I can’t find Candi,” I said.

“Yea, I was thinking of leaving anyways. I can drop you off.”

“Your a lifesaver.”

We chatted all the way home. I wanted to spend some time in the driveway, but the light on in the living room told me that was not a good idea. I gave him a quick kiss then scampered off to the front door.

I didn’t realize how drunk I still was until I tried to unlock the front door and I couldn’t get my key in the lock. After three failed attempts, the door opening by itself shocked me. I then noticed Mom standing there in her nightgown with a clear look of disappointment.

“Have a little too much to drink?” Mom asked.

“Nooooo…” I slurred as I entered and tried to take off my shoes. The second attempt got them off my feet and close to the shoe rack.

“I think so. I asked you be home by midnight, but you decided to stroll in drunk at 1:30. Even though your in college, you still need to be home at a reasonable time sometimes. You didn’t even call saying you’d be late.”

“Sorrrrryyyy moooommm.”

“Oh you will be before you go to bed. For breaking curfew AND drinking while underage your going to get a double spanking. Drop those panties and grab the mantel.” Mom said as she picked up the leather strap from the coffee table.

There was a more or less standard punishment for breaking curfew. If you were late returning home you were getting the strap on your bare butt immediately upon your arrival. It always happened in the living room with me bending forward and holding onto the fireplace mantel. The amount was directly related to how late I was, and if I hadn’t been so intoxicated, I’d been able to do the math also and know that a 1.5 hours late meant I’d be getting at least 23 swats; 5 for missing curfew then an addition swat for every 5 minutes.

The double spanking was the worst punishment you could get in my house. Mom had this policy that if you committed two spankable offenses within one day, you had to serve at least 30 minutes of corner time before the second spanking could be delivered. The second spanking was always to be on the bare butt and with the next higher implement (hand -> hairbrush -> strap -> cane). After the second spanking you were effectively grounded to your room until the next day. No TV, cell phone, computer, iPod or anything. You really did not want to leave your room after getting the strap on top of a hairbrush spanking.

“Oh that’s not nessessarrryy.” I said as I tried to act like it wasn’t in trouble. Mom just took hold of my wrist and ushered me over to the mantel.

“It is quite necessary,” Mom said as she placed each of my hands on the mantel. “Do not let go.” Holding onto the mantel help stop the room from moving so much. Subconsciously I knew I was going to be spanked, it would be obvious to anyone sitting in the living room. Well, anyone not drunk, like myself. Mom reached around my waist and unbuttoned my shorts then down went the cutoffs, followed by my bathing suit bottoms until they hung at half-mast.

The sudden rush of cool air on my damp bottom sent chills up my spine. “Heeyyy!” I slured, starting to twist around to look at my mom.

Thuack! “Ahhhh” The first swat with the strap replaced the intoxication with a strip of fire. Mom had placed the good, hard swat right across my sit-spot.

Thuack! “AHHH Owwwee Owwwee” The second swat was placed directly over the first swat, removing any of the lingering effects of intoxication. Mom put next three swats quickly right on top of the first 2, getting a continuous cry out of me.

Mom then lectured me for a few minutes on responsibility and calling and such. I didn’t pay much attention as my rear end held my full attention. I did hear her though say I was to get 18 more swats for being an hour and a half late. It was at that moment that I prayed she spread out the swats.

For the next 6 minutes, Mom brought the strap down methodically across my bare flesh. I could feel her spreading out the swats, so that every inch of my backside was painted red. Top to bottom, left to right. I wiggled back and forth, even dipped my knees a couple of times to try and ease the burn but I luckily never let go of the mantel. I really should’ve paid more attention to the time at the party.

Mom waited for me to hold still after the last swat before sending me to the corner. “Put your hands on your head and get that nose in the corner.” I released my white-knuckle grip on the oak to wipe my nose and the tears blurring my vision. The hobbled walk to the corner was agonizingly slow. In order to keep my bathing suit at by knees, like Mom preferred with panties, I had to twist my hips to step forward, which pulled the skin at the bottom of my cheeks taught.

Mom luckily had pointed at the near empty corner, not the one on the other side of the room with a corner table spanning it. It was about 5 years ago when Mom first used that corner for corner time with my older sister. Katie had turned 18 the week before, and felling all grown-up, had taken Mom’s car shopping without her permission. Mom was taking a nap the whole time Katie was gone, and she’d have gotten away with it had she not brought home pizza for dinner. I’m still not sure what she did after Mom found out she’d taken the car to earn a double punishment, she earned herself 2 sessions with the cane. During Katie’s corner time, she wouldn’t stop fidgeting so Mom moved her to the corner with the table and made her spread her feet the 36 inches to match the tables then lean forward and put her nose in the corner. This pushed out her bottom again for an easy target, and it makes moving about difficult. Anytime Katie moved, Mom would get up, and place one solid swat with the strap across her bottom. Katie only moved once after getting placed in the table corner. I kinda enjoyed seeing Katie get it that day for taking the car, since she’d spent the previous 2 years hanging her driver’s license over my head when ever I wanted to go anywhere.

BEEP BEEP BEEP! The egg timer startled me back to reality and marked the end of my reprisal. The fire below had shifted more to a strong throb, where I could probably measure my pulse from the impulses of pain resonating from down below. I now was up for 6 strokes of the cane. The cane was always a half or full set, with a set being 1/3 of your age. Being only 20, I would be due only 6 stripes. Only 6 stripes, like that was a cake walk or something. I guess it is better than had this incident happened in a month when it’d be upped to 7.

“Ok back to the mantel you go,” Mom said as she exchanged her book for the cane. I made the slow trek back to the mantel and got into position. “I’ve been thinking. You act like you want to be 21, your in trouble because you where drinking like you were already 21, and your birthday is only a month away.” Mom paused and I became confused. Maybe she was going to let me off? “I figure you should be punished as if you were 21 and take 7 strokes with the cane.” SEVEN!

“Moommmm pleaasssee not seveen!” I pleaded from my bent over position.

“I think you can handle. Anyways you believe your big enough to get drunk.”

“Pleasseee!” CRACK! “OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEE!” I cried out as the first stroke of the cane cut into the top of my cheeks. The pain was intense, most likely because of my recent strapping.

Crack! “AAAAAAAHHHHH SNIFFFF OWWWW!” The flood gates opened up and had my eyes been opened, I doubt I’d have seen anything other than a blur. It took all my fortitude to bear the next three strokes. Mom worked them slowly down my cheeks, making my butt look like a blank sheet of music.

Crack! “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAHHHHH aaaaahhhh!” My hands shot instantly back to the bottom of my cheeks. The pain was explosive, with an intensity I didn’t know possible. Mom had just placed the sixth stroke right at the crease between by cheeks and tights, and more importantly, on the spot where I’d taken the first 5 swats with the strap. As I rubbed the spot in an attempt to quell the sting, I could feel a welt start to raise across the impact site.

“Come on, back over and we can get finish this. I’m tired and I imagine you want to go to be bed also,” Mom said as she lightly tapped the cane on the top of my hands. I rubbed for a few more moments, then bent forward and returned to caning position.

Crack! “WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH WWAAAAAAAAHHHHH wwaaa!” My hands shot back to my butt even faster this time. Mom had placed the last stroke on top of the previous one, doubling the effect. I was wailing like a banshee when Mom wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. My hands though were firmly a fixed to my rear end.

“Honey, you know drinking is illegal. If you’d been caught you’d have arrested. That has serious consequences for your future. I don’t want you screwing up your future by some foolhardy action a couple weeks before you can legally do it. I love you too much to allow you to do that.”

“Sorrryy snifff mom. I luuvv yoouuu too.” I cried as I wiped my tears on her nightgown.

“Come on, lets get you up to bed.” Mom ushered me to my room and helped me lay down on my stomach. I didn’t dare put on panties, or the covers the entire night. I ended up having to spend the entire day confined to my room, but I didn’t really mind it. Mom also told me I was lucky that Dad was on a business trip, since he’d made me wait until morning to be spanked, like had happened to Katie once. Getting the strap with a hangover would’ve been hell.

Implements – the Good, the Bad and the Ugly

This post is not for you purist out there. Those who believe the bare hand is the best and only way to spank a naughty behind. This can be effective, but can also lose its impact as a girl ages. Over time and among various cultures, different tools have been employed to impart a more lasting message to the naughty girl, without causing harm to the spanker. Below is a list of every implement I have ever heard of being used, including the less appropriate ones. Let me know if I missed any.

Implement Impact Description Usable Positions
Bare Hand Light A open palm slapped down onto the bottom. Typically used for minor offenses and in public situations and can be effectively applied through clothes or on bare skin Any – Typically used over the knee
Wooden Hairbrush

Flat hairbrush

Flat hairbrush (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild The back of a solid wood hair brush is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the girl’s room. Any – Typically used over the knee
Wooden Spoon Mild The back of a solid wooden cooking spoon is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the kitchen. Any – Typically used over the knee
Spatula Mild The blade of plastic or rubber cooking spatula is used as a small paddle. Typically used my mothers spanking their daughters because of the easy access while in the kitchen. Has more of stingy impact than the wooden spoon. Any – Typically used over the knee
Wooden / Plastic Ruler / Paint stirrer Mild A plastic or wooden foot long ruler is used as a small paddle. Typically associated with Catholic Schools and Nuns in America. A paint stirrer is effectively the same implement as a wooden ruler, though lighter in weight. Any – Typically used over the knee

Wooden spanking paddle Deutsch: Holz-Paddle (w...

Wooden spanking paddle Deutsch: Holz-Paddle (wird im BDSM und Spanking verwendet) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild-Heavy A narrow slat of wood has one section cut down into a handle. The broader blade is then applied to the bottom. Often associated with American schools and Greek Fraternities and Sororities. Typically Southern and Rural American implement. Short ones – Any
Longer ones – All standing positions
Ping-Pong / Table Tennis Paddle

Français : ping-pong

Français : ping-pong (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild The paddle used to play Ping-Pong, Table tennis or associated games. Effectively the same as a hairbrush though often lighter. The different textures can have different effects than a hairbrush when applied directly to bare skin. Any – Typically used over the knee
Spencer Paddle Heavy A larger paddle with wholes drilled in the striking surface to reduce air resistance and increase impact. These wholes often cause welting to occur. All standing positions
Knoppler Paddle Mild-Heavy A smaller squarish paddle were hard leather is used as the striking surface instead of wood. Any
Bath brush Mild-Heavy A variation of the hairbrush with a larger, heavier head and a longer handle. All standing positions

English: A worn, black leather belt with buckle.

English: A worn, black leather belt with buckle. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild-Heavy A leather belt is used as a single strand or doubled over then brought down onto the bottom. All standing positions
Strap Heavy A variation of the belt. A single length of leather often the doubled over and sown together. All standing positions


Tawse (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Heavy A variation of the strap with the blade portion cut into two or more tongues. All standing positions
Cane Heavy A thin long stick, typically made of bamboo or rattan, though any flexible wood works. Often associated with English schools. All standing positions
Slipper Mild A simple house slipper with the leather sole applied to the bottom. All standing positions
Whip Mild-Heavy A long strip of flexible leather, often braided together to create a multiple meter rope. All standing positions

A simple, small martinet

A simple, small martinet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild-Heavy A flat piece of leather with one end cut into multiple stripes. The uncut end is then wrapped around itself and secured to create a handle. The tongs are generally less than 12 inches in length. Traditionally used in French households. Any positions
Flogger Mild-Heavy A heavier, larger version of the Martinet. Any positions
Cat-O-Nine Tails

A leather cat o' nine tails pictured with a U....

A leather cat o’ nine tails pictured with a U.S. dollar bill for size comparison. A U.S. dollar bill is about 6 inches (about 15 cm) long. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Heavy A large heavy version of the Flogger, typically associated with Naval discipline during the late 18th and early 19th centuries. All standing positions
Switch Mild-Heavy A young flexible branch with the sprouts cut off. Used like a temporary cane. All standing positions
Birch Rod Mild-Heavy Multiple switches from the birch or willow tree tied together to strike simultaneously. All standing positions
Coat Hanger Heavy A steel, wood or plastic coat hanger where one shoulder section is held and the other shoulder section is brought down on the bottom. Generally considered abusive. Any
Extension cord Heavy A length of electrical cord used like a short whip. Generally considered abusive and often not effective due to lack of control. All standing positions
Clothes line Mild A length of narrow rope used like a short whip. Generally considered abusive and often not effective due to lack of control. All standing positions
Flyswatter Mild A household flyswatter is swatted onto the bare bottom. Ineffective through clothing do to its light weight. Generally considered abusive and unhygienic. All standing positions
Chop Sticks Mild-Heavy One or two, 18 inch cooking chop sticks are used like mini canes.Generally considered abusive outside of Asian homes. Any
Rubber hose Mild-Heavy A couple feet of narrow rubber hose is looped over and used like a belt. Generally considered abusive. All standing positions

Français : Cravache. Photographie prise à Miss...

Français : Cravache. Photographie prise à Mississauga, Ontario, Canada. filedesc A 30″ (75cm) riding crop. I, User:OwenX, photographed this on 30 December 2005 in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada using a Fujifilm FinePix F440 digital camera. I am hereby licensing this image to the Wikimedia Foundation in perpetuity under the terms of GFDL. de:Bild:Riding crop.JPG (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Heavy Short stiff whip with a small striking. Typically used by jockeys riding horses, but commonly used in BDSM play. All standing positions

The Memorial Day Water Balloon Attack

Memorial Day Weekend. The unofficial start of summer here in the Midwest. Actually I guess it’s country wide, but here it means warm weather, no school and beach parties. For my family, Memorial Day Weekend is also the weekend everyone goes up to by grandparents cabin and helps them open it for the summer. The guys all help grandpa with some project while us ladies help grandma cook, relax and look after the little ones. Well we used to help look after the little ones, but now my youngest cousins are in middle school, so we mostly relax and play games.

This year started like most every other year. I drove back from college on Thursday so I could hitch a ride up with my parents. They both took Friday off so we left first thing and got to the lake around noon. Lake Michigan is beautiful this time of the year. Freezing cold, but beautiful. My grandparents place is in the woods on the northern shore where the house is perched on a small cliff providing great panoramic view. Supposedly they bought the property years ago because of the view and decided to build their summer house here when they retired.

Only two of my aunts and uncles came up this year, and then only Aunt Sally’s younger daughter, Lani, came. Lani was born 6 months after me, which meant we did everything together at family functions. Growing up, we lived about half an hour away from each other, so these little family reunions were our time to catch up and play.

Friday evening grandpa made a bonfire. Those of us cousins who made it this year roasted marshmallows for Smores. My uncle’s two boys, James and John, were drinking beers while my cousin Lani and I taught John’s fiance how to cook the perfect marshmallow. Jenny came from the city, not the country like all of the rest of the family. Lani and I would have to teach her how things were out here.


The rising sun inched its beam of light across our faces. I could hear the sizzle of bacon already cooking as I fought back consciousness. Sleep good! The sleeping bag was so warm and comfortable. Why do old people have to get up so early in the morning?

“You all going to sleep till noon?” Grandpa poked our feet on his way out to the deck.

I dragged my lifeless body out of the cozy embrace to make a beeline for the bathroom. I wanted to beat Jenny since I bet she took forever in the bathroom in the morning. I never did understand why they only built one general bathroom. The house is like 10,000 square feet and there is only one bathroom. Well, three if you count the one off my grandparents bedroom and the one off the guest room.

I was scratching my hair as I left the bathroom and did not even notice Jenny waiting at the door. I’m not a big girl, actually at the ‘ideal’ weight for my 5 foot 7 frame , but Jenny is a petite little thing and stood no chance when we collided. Makeup and toiletries that she had bundled in towel went everywhere as she fell to the floor. It took me a moment to realize what happened when she shrieked. I couldn’t help but giggle as she scampered about collecting items. I don’t know if the pink satin panties or the tampon was more embarrassing, but she was blushing.

Lani took the opportunity to seek ahead in line, while I “helped” Jenny collect her things, making Jenny have to wait again once everything was secured in the towel. Mom on the other hand did not care for my helpful gesture.

Breakfast was delicious as always. There is something about grandma’s biscuits and gravy that beat out every restaurant. Even Mom cannot seem to get the recipe right. Lani and I chatted about school while the guys spoke about the repairs to the dock over breakfast. Mom, my aunts and grandma took their regular turns between the kitchen and deck with fresh supplies of eggs, bacon and biscuits.

After breakfast Lani and I begrudgingly took up station by the sink, washing the pots and pans from breakfast. We never us real plates or utensils on these weekends so we only every need to wash are the pots and pans. It is still no fun. A few sprays of the kitchen hose though make it a little more interesting. I got Lani good for her smearing the leftover gravy in my face. Washing dishes was just starting to get fun when Aunt Sally yelled at us to stop making a mess.

When we finally finished with the dishes our mothers were working on some arts and crafts project and the guys where tearing apart the old dock. Neither looked to appealing to Lani or I so we decided to take a walk and explore.

Grandpa’s workshop was nothing special, just a bunch of woodworking tools. He would build stuff over the summer then sell it at various arts and craft shows as they traveled down to Florida for the winter. There were table saws and sanders and other kinds of saws, all coated in a thin layer of sawdust. I started writing “Clean Me” in the sawdust when Lani found something on anther workbench.

“Hey, look what I found!” Lani held up a dirty plastic bag full of red white and blue things.

“What are those?”

“Water balloons!” Lani said with a broad mischievous grin.

“Lets get the boys!” I said as I snatched up the bag and headed around back.

An exterior faucet poked out the backside of the workshop, allowing us to stay hidden while we prepared our ammo. Living on Lake Michigan, my grandparents draw their water directly from the lake, generally making their cold water just above freezing. Bad for outside showers, but excellent for water balloons.

With five rounds between us, we crept over to the woods then out to the shore. Most of the shore is a mixture of rocky jettisons mixed with five foot cliffs, but the top of the cliffs are covered in bushes and other low brush making it hard to see from the water. We would have great cover for our surprise attack.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! Direct hits! The water balloons struck James on chest and his older brother on the back and head. The surprise assault really took John off guard. The impact was just enough to cause him to stumble on the dock support. The narrow beam did not have enough room for him to regain his footing before he tumbled into the lake.

Lani nor I could help but giggle as John crashed into the water. John was going to be pissed, so we had to get out of here right now.

“Com’n lets go,” I whispered to Lani before taking off through the brush towards the woods.

“Lani Marie!” “Theresa Anne!” Two voices called from the house. I looked over at Lani and just mouth “Oh shit.”

“Go or hide?” Lani asked.

“Putting off our execution is only going to make it worst,” I said.

“Unless they forget?” Lani responded with a tight smile.

“Your mom ever forget?”

“No…Rats, and this was starting to become a good weekend.” Lani pouted as she led the way back to the house.

Mom and Aunt Sally stood side by side on the deck with their arms crossed. Even from the edge of the woods we could tell our mothers were mad. I initially hoped I could talk my way out of it, but as we got closer, the strip of leather in my mom’s hand dashed any hope.

“What do you girls think you were doing?” my mom yelled at us.

“You could have hurt someone,” Aunt Sally added.

“We didn’t mean to.” Lani and I pleaded.

“Sure you didn’t. Why else would you throw water balloons at your cousins while they are working with power tools.” Mom said, wagging her finger at me. This always made me feel like such a kid. Only naughty little girls get fingers wagged at them.

“We are sorry, we were just having a little fun,” I pleaded. My eyes had yet to leave the 16 inch strip of leather in mom’s hands. I knew what is was for and did not care to feel it today.

“JUST A LITTLE FUN! They would have been seriously hurt or killed!” Aunt Sally yelled.

“We are really sorry!” we pleaded.

“SORRY? I’ll show you sorry!” Mom grabbed by arm and pulled be over towards the railing. I could hear Lani pleading with her mom as she was forced behind me.

“Please mom, not here. I’m an adult. Please!” I pleaded before being unceremoniously bent over the deck rail. I started to push up when Lani joined me on the right. Mom would have none of it, pressing her left hand into my shoulders and forcing me farther over the rail.

“Yeeks, No please!” Lani shrieked next to me.

Mom followed her sister-in-laws example, working my jean shorts and panties down to my ankles. I could’ve died of embarrassment at that moment. Here I was, a rising sophomore in college, bent bare bottom over a deck rail about to get spanked. “Mom Please not bare!”

“Stop whinning you too.” Aunt Sally scolded us.

THUACK! The first stroke us both by surprise. Lani and I yelped almost in unison. I had forgot how intense of a burn the strap could impart on the first stroke.

THUACK! The straps bit down in unison again before I had much of a chance to internalize the first spank.

I bit my lower lip, preparing for the next stroke as I glanced to my right. Lani was looking back at me. The fear, the embarrassment, the pain, all shown in her eyes. Her eyes snapped shut, and a grimace of pain spread across her face as I heard her strap make contact before mine. Is that what I look like during a spanking? I only had a second to ponder before fire shot up my backside.

I grunted, then tried to kick off the sting. My resistance was rewarded with the strap firmly laid across the top of my tights, which stung like none other. “PLEASE not there!” I cried out.

Our mothers separated into their own pace after the first few strokes, deciding to wear out their daughter’s independently. I could not tell if mom was going faster or slower and it really did not matter at the time. The supple leather bit over and over into my tender cheeks until I was sobbing and could no longer even make out Lani through the tears.

“Do you think you will need to be spanked again?” Mom asked.

“No ma’am sniff” I answered quietly.

“Good, you can join Lani over there on the wall until lunch.” Mom said, slapping my bare bottom. I shuffled over to the wall, rubbing my sore bottom with one hand while pulling my t-shirt as low as it would go in the front. I’d rather moon my family than the other option. I took a quick glance at Lani’s bottom on my way to her side. I always felt a pain of jealously when I saw her well toned bottom. It should be well toned with her going to college on a track scholarship.

I’m not sure if the spanking or standing with my bare butt facing the lake was more embarrassing. Jenny sure tried to maximize our discomfort. I guess it was payback for our fun with her earlier mishap.

“Aw, were you little girls naughty? I bet your bottoms really sting,” Jenny commented as she went in the house for the tenth time to get something to drink. With Mom sitting on the porch I just had to bit my tongue and bare it, otherwise risk another spanking. Another spanking right now was the last thing I wanted.

Mom eventually returned our clothes and sent us in to get lunch, once everyone else had made a sandwich and were seated on the deck. Lani and I scampered off to the bathroom to get dressed and inspect the damage.

“How is mine?” I asked trying to twist around and see in the mirror. All I could see is pink tops of my cheeks.

“Ouch, you got caught on the thighs?”

“Yea, kicking too much. Let me see you,” I said turning to look at Lani. She turned her back to me, wiggling off her deep red cheeks at me. A few dark maroon welts had been left by the edge if the strap. I gently dragged an index finger over the ridges, feeling the hot rough texture.

“Ouch! If your going to touch, at least use some cooling cream!” Lani snapped, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Fine..” I snickered popping open the medicine cabinet. Sunburn cream would work nicely to cool down out bottoms. I first worked a generous amount into Lani’s rear then she returned the favor. It felt wonderful as the soothing cream worked into my tender flesh.

We disappeared for most of the rest of the day. Getting another spanking was not in our agenda for the weekend. The first one had kind of became tradition over the past few years, but a second one, definitely not. Anyways, on Tuesday I would start my summer internship at my other grandfather’s law firm and wouldn’t get to have this kind of fun all summer long. I had gotten most of the mischief out of my system. Hopefully at least until Independence Day.