Here’s to you, Mr Franklin

I had wrote this story back when daylight savings time ended back in autumn, but it did not seem to work as well when you set the clocks back an hour as going forward an hour. I had forgotten about it until I stumbled across it yesterday.

“Damn Benjamin Franklin!” Jules thought, washing the last of the dishes from the Lent breakfast. “Why did he have to come up with stupid daylight savings time?” she mumbled under her breath. This common error was just the latest in a series of bad choices for her today.

She sorely wanted to reach down and rub her throbbing sensation which had engulfed her pelvis, but didn’t dare try with her damp hands. She knew from previous experience that getting any water on her light blue satin dress would turn the fabric a dark blue hue. A quick rub was not worth having to explain a dark blue splotch in such a location.

The irony of her thought took a moment to hit her. Here she stood, in the basement of the church, washing dishes while the rest of the parishioners sat upstairs listening to a sermon on God’s grace and mercy.

“VEERRRR” vibrated across the night stand. Jules ventured a single out from the warm embrace of her down comforter. She brought the phone right up to her nose before she could make out who was calling. “Honey!” displayed above her finance’s picture. Even though he had woke her up, she still gave a smile before accepting the call.

“Jules, have you left yet?” Cory said, a little out of breath on the other end of the line.

“Hu…no?” Jules mumbled into the phone.

“Are you still asleep!?” Cory asked.

“Yea, I was just getting up,” she mumbled before pulling the phone away from her ear to see the time “7:02” printed in tiny letters across the top of the display.

“You are just getting up!” Cory yelled through the phone. He seldom used his “wrath of god sermon” voice with her, but the few times he had, she had screwed up royally. “You were supposed to be ten minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Jules said, jolting upright in bed.

“Well, please bring a whisk. The one here broke and we are going to need to make another batch of batter before the next service.” Cory instructed her.

“OK, see you soon,” she responded instinctively, focused more on getting out of her PJs and into the shower than the stuff Cory was saying.

“Bye,” Cory said before hanging up.

Jules flew through the shower and the rest of her morning routine. She literately ran out the door 15 minutes after the phone had woke her up, barely remembering to grab her phone.


Jules hated speeding, but the church was five miles away and she was way to late to obey speed limits. Luck was on her side for the first three lights, flying through the intersection just as the light turned yellow. The fourth light turned green a hundred yards before she reached the intersection. She shifted to the left lane to avoid having to slow down for the couple of cars stopped in the right lane. She was going fifty in a thirty-five when she crossed in front of the cop sitting at the intersection.

Had she even saw the cop, she would have swore God had intervened to save her from the ticket, because the SUV in the right lane blocked the cop’s radar detector and the exact moment she crossed the intersection.

Jules pulled into one of the close spots and ran inside as fast as she could in the heels. She found Cory in the kitchen, wrapped in a purple apron, flipping pancakes.

“There you are,” Cory said seeing her flouncy past him.

“Yea, sorry my alarm didn’t go off.” Jules said with a bit more attitude than was needed.

“You forgot to reset your alarm for daylight savings time,” Cory corrected her, as he made a large stack of pancakes.

“Yea, whatever,” Jules mumbled, sitting her purse and coat in the corner of the counter-top. “What can I help with?”

“Well, we are done with the first batch, so you can start making another batch of batter. Grab your whisk and you can reuse this bowl.”

“What whisk?” Jules asked, completely oblivious to Cory’s earlier request.

“I think we need to have a little discussion,” Cory told her quietly before turning to his left and heading towards the pantry located at the back of the kitchen.

Jules could feel her luck run out as she followed her fiance the 10 feet to the pantry. The isolated room acted more like a storage room for extra appliances, dishes and utensils than a food storage location. Cory flicked on the light and locked the door behind them before focusing his attention on Jules.

“I told you last night that it was daylight savings time and to reset your alarm because it would not adjust by itself, but did you listen?” Cory lectured.

“No,” Jules replied, trying to sound sorry.

“And then you forgot to bring the whisk, which I asked you to this morning.”

“Sorry… I will listen better next time. I promise!”

“Well, I think you need a reminder. Why don’t you bend over and grab that lower shelf?” Cory asked rhetorically.

“Please not here!” Jules begged. Her mind was filled with the possibility of someone walking in the door any moment, and potentially seeing her in such a compromising position.

Cory pulled a long slender wooden spoon from a nearby utensil jar and whacked her backside with it. “Yes here, and why don’t you hike up that dress while your at it. It looks nice and I won’t want to damage it.” Cory motioned upwards with the spoon at her waist level.

“Grrr,” Jules grumbled, but knew better than to disobey him. She had been the one to propose this situation a year ago as a way to help deal with her flaky attitude. He had been skeptical at first, and the initial sessions were more sexually frustrating than real punishments. Filling his apartment with smoke because she had forgot about a batch of cookies in the oven had provided him with enough motivation to really punish her. Things had improved drastically in their relationship, which would be culminated in a wedding in two months.

She bent at her waist and pulled the hem of her dress up until it rested around the top of her panties. She continued her downward trajectory until she firmly gripped the wire mesh shelf, about two feet from the floor.

“Ouch!” WACK! “Owe!” Cory peppered her bottom with the wooden spoon, spreading the wacks evenly around the nylon encapsulated globes. The fiery sensation in her bottom grew much quicker than normal, as the nylon seemed to trap the heat in her bottom. It was a new experience in their relationship, and one she would have preferred to read about than enjoy.

WACK! WACK! WACK! “Are you going to listen more closely next time?” Cory paused to grill her after a quick flurry of swats.

“Sniff, yes, I, will, listen, better,” she responded, trying to keep in the tears. Holding back the tears was a hard task with the intensity of the fire in her bottom. Each syllable she struggled to say the word, without breaking down. This focus caused her tone came across as much more flippant than contrite.

“Well from your tone, I see you haven’t learned anything yet,” Cory chided.


Cory gave her a dozen quick strokes on the lower edges of her bottom, poking out beneath the bikini cut panties. He was about to start lecturing her again when he felt a vibration coming from his pants pocket. It was the timer on his phone silently reminding him to head upstairs and get changed. He gave his handiwork a quick glance, admiring the bright red hue gracing his fiance’s sexy bottom. “Even a man of the cloth is still a man,” he thought to himself.

“I think that is enough for now, we can discuss this further after services are over,” Cory said turning away from her. He was more concerned about hiding the evidence of his impure thoughts than providing her with a little bit of privacy.

The relief by Jules was evident from her loud sigh. She knew this was a temporary reprieve and rearranged herself as quickly as possible to avoid any further discussion at this time. A little flick of her hair and a shake of her hips was all she really could do to make her look normal again.

She stepped forward, lightly brushing Cory’s hand, causing him flinch ever so slightly. He tried to hide the focus of his mind by kissing her lightly on the forehead, as he commonly did when she had done something special. The soft kiss sent a tingle down her spine, releasing the feelings which had been building since the spanking had begun in a semi-public location. The risk of getting caught had triggered feelings which were whole inappropriate for a chaste finance of a minister. “Even a woman of a man of a cloth is sill a woman,” she thought to herself as she gave her bottom a quick rub then followed Cory into the kitchen.

“I need to go get ready for service, you can stay down here and wash up all the dishes.” Cory told Jules, waving the  wooden spoon towards the sink overflowing with plates. He took a step towards the kitchen door, when he remembered the wooden spoon in his hands. He spun around and sat the utensil on the ledge above the sink, right were she would have to see it. “Oh, and lets leave this right here and a little reminder.”

Environment – Magnifying the Embarrassment

I have previously went through positions and implements, the How and What of a spanking, now I move on to the Where. The environment where the initial decree and the actual spanking can have a profound impact on the effectiveness of the spanking. A girl going bending over for six of the best in the Dean’s private office has a considerably different impact than the same girl bending over in front of an auditorium full of her peers.

To help the creativity get flowing, I’ve made a list of all the places I’ve heard of actual or realistic spankings taking place. I’m not talking where single swats or where only children would be spanked, rather where full on spankings of adult girls could be safely delivered.

Which ones have you heard of before?

Area location Embarrassment Factor Risk of Interference
Girl’s Bedroom Minimal None
Parent’s Bedroom Minimal None
Bathroom Minimal None
Study / Den / Library Minimal None
Kitchen Low Minimal
Living Room / Family Room Low Minimal
Garage / Workshop Minimal Minimal
Woodshed / Barn Minimal None
Porch / Deck Medium Minimal
Yard / Garden Medium Minimal
Classroom High Minimal
Hallway Medium Low
Principle’s / Headmaster’s Office Low None
Gym / Locker room Low – High Low
Dorm Room Low Minimal
Dorm Common room High Low – Medium
Boss’ Office Low Low – Medium
Storeroom Medium Medium
Bathroom / Locker Room Low-Medium Medium – High
Boss’ Office Low Minimal
Restroom Medium Medium
Dressing Room / Changing Room Medium Medium
Car Low – Medium Low
Public Bench High High
City Park / Playground High High
Tent / Campground Medium Medium
Recreation Vehicle (RV) Low Minimal
Woods Low-High Low-High
Beach / Public Pool High High
Prison / Reformatory (historically) Low None
Town Square (historically) High None
Church basement / Sunday School High Low
Hotel Low Minimal



“Fuck!” Grace mumbled.

I couldn’t believe she had just swore, and in church of all places. I’d warned her about her language twice already this week, but now it was time for action. I leaned over and whispered in my niece’s ear “we will be chatting about your language when we get home, young lady.” She just looked back at me with a slightly puzzled look on her face.

“You know calling me a young lady doesn’t make you any younger Aunt Beth,” she whispered back. Was she implying I was old? I’m only 36 for Christ’s shake! Oh great there she has me swearing in church now. At least it’s in my head and not out loud.

“Sorry Lord for taking your name in vain, especially today, on your day. Please give me the strength to deal with Grace and help her learn to be a respectable lady. Thank you for allowing her to come stay with me. I know it’ll be good for the both of us.” I prayed as Pastor Benson preached.

Church concluded and Grace and I made our way home where the first order of business was changing out of our Sunday bests and into something more relaxing. I wiggled into a pair of jeans and tossed on an old t-shirt and headed out out of my bedroom to do some yard work when I heard “Damn it!” come from Grace’s room.

Annoyance came back over me like a wave. I stepped back into my room then closed the door and leaned against it. I had to say something, but what? My sister had asked me to watch over Grace while she attend William and Mary, and at the time I eagerly agreed because I thought it’d be fun. I’d be like a mix of big sister and mom to Grace while she adjusted to college life. She’d only been here a week and I already didn’t know what to do! I know what my mother would’ve done had she caught Kate or I ever swearing, but that was twenty years ago. This is the twenty first century.

I opened door, heading for Grace’s room, hoping my natural ‘motherly’ instincts would take over and guide me in the discussion.

I knocked gently on Grace’s ajar door, pushing it open. Grace lay on her stomach, diagonally across her bed. Her feet waved back and forth in the air as she glanced at me over her laptop screen.


“We need to talk, Grace.” I said as rounded the end of her bed and sat on the edge.

“If it’s about the church thingy, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Grace sassed without even looking up at me.

“It’s more than just the swearing. It’s…It’s…”

“Hu? what?!”

“It’s your attitude, behavior and complete lack of respect.”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothin wrong with my attitude or behavior.” Grace pushed herself up on her elbows so she could clearly see me. The more aggressive body language was not lost on me.

“You don’t see anything wrong with what you just said to me?”


I sighed. “That’s the problem. Your mother asked me to look after you while you are going to college and help you out if need be.”

“Aunt Beth, I’m 18. I haven’t needed a babysitter in years,” Grace added to the dismissiveness of her response by tilting her head to the left.

“I don’t want to be your babysitter. But your attitude is very rude.” Grace spun around and got off her bed. “I know your mother raised you better than how you’ve been acting.” She turned her back to me and went over to her desk, shuffling through a few papers. “Grace if things are going to workout we both need to respect each other. That means you will need to improve your attitude.”

“Whatever!” Grace said shaking her head.

It is amazing how a single word can have such a transformational effect on people. The dismissive “whatever” was one of mine. I could feel by blood start to boil. Clenching my left fist I took a deep breath before reacting. I grabbed Grace’s right wrist and jerked her towards the hallway. She had had her back to me, so the sudden force spun her around and took her slightly off balance at the same time. I was not going to wait for anything, especially and possible resistance. Grace only regained her balance when I let go of her wrist in the bathroom.

The bar of Ivory soap next to the sink was relatively new so I splashed some water on it before turning to my niece.

“Open up!” I commanded. Grace just closed her lips even tighter while shaking her head. “Now or the time will be doubled!” She persisted so I slapped my left hand down onto the back of her tights. Her yelp gave me enough time to shove the bar between her lips and into place. “Bit down on it then bend over and grab the edge of the tub.” She went to remove the soap, but I caught her hand and pulled her over to the tub. A little leverage and she was bent forward in such an acquired position that her right hand had to hold her up otherwise she’d go crashing into the bathtub, face first. I’d have never allowed her to actually fall, but her body didn’t know it.

I hooked my thumb and ring finger under the back of Grace’s waistband, pulling her shorts and panties down in one motion until they were bunched up around the top of her tights.

“Anuugghhtt baattpphh bbooossssseee ggggoooo!” Grace cried.

I answered with a firm hand spank to her right cheek. Oh did it sting my palm. How did mothers ever spank their daughters for minutes on end without seriously hurting their hand. I never understood the phase “this is going to hurt me more than you” until that moment.

“Since you wouldn’t obey earlier, you’re getting 6 minutes with the soap in while I paddle you. I’m going to let go of your arm. Grab the tub and do not let go. If the soap comes out or you reach back, you’ll be experiencing the belt before bedtime.” I let go of her arm and picked up the timer that came with my electric tooth brush. It was designed to remind me when I’d brushed my teeth for long enough. Once the timer was set to 6 minutes I picked up the plastic bath scrub brush. It would be better than bruising my hand.

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! I laid into her white globes as fast and as hard as I could. Grace started squiring from the first swat messing up my aim. I reached my left arm around her waist, pulling her tight against my hip to keep her wiggling down.

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! I didn’t let up as her bottom turned from white through pink to crimson. My arm though did get tired, and quickly. The timer read 4:41 when I let go of her waist and took up position beside her. If I couldn’t keep up the feverous pace, I could at least make sure the last swats were extra hard.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace jumped up as the two handed swat took her low on her right cheek. Her hands came back to cover her boiling backside and rub out the fire.

“GRACE!” I yelled. She rubbed for a second longer before returning to holding onto the bathtub. Once her hands were back in place I took another hard swing at the same spot.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace jumped up again, grabbing her backside.

“Fine, you can get the belt later also!” I stated dryly. Grace quickly removed her hands and returned to position. I glanced at the timer, which read 5:37. Time for two more swats.

WACK! “GRRRFFFFPPPHHHH!” Grace shook her butt, but held onto the tub’s edge as I delivered a solid swat to her lower left cheek.


“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” the timer went off.

“You can spit out the soap and rise now,” I told Grace as sat the brush on the counter. Her right hand went straight to her bottom while her left flipped on the faucet on it’s way back there. She spit the bar of soap into the sink then bent her head under the faucet to fill her mouth with water to rise. She would then spit and repeat, all the while furious rubbing her red bottom. I have to admit, it was one of the most comical scenes I’d ever seen. A half-naked 18 year old bent over a bathroom sink while drinking straight from the faucet.

Grace eventually switched to swishing the water around her mouth and finally gave up with getting the last bit of soapy taste out after a few minutes. She then look over to me, her red, swollen eyes still tear stained. I took her in my arms and hugged her tight against my chest.

Embraced until Grace’s composure had fully return. When I released her, she look up at me as said “I’m sorry Aunt Beth.” She reached down and picked up her shorts and panties before returning to her room, red cheeks looking back at me.

I stood there in the bathroom, still slightly shocked at the whole series of events which had just happened. I replayed the last 20 minutes in my mind until I reached the point where Grace was putting up a fuss then reached back. She had blantly disobeyed me and I’d told her that she would get an additional spanking because of it. I knew I had to follow through with it and be good to my word, so I left the bathroom for Grace’s room.

“AAH! Aunt Beth!” Grace screeched as I walked in. She had been standing in front of her mirror, looking at the state of her bottom. When she noticed me, she spun around, pulling the front over her shirt down to cover her privates while she reached for a pillow laying on her bed. I thought the whole jesture was comical, especially since I had just inflicted the redness she was admiring.

“As I mentioned earlier, you will be getting another spanking before bedtime since you wouldn’t cooperate earlier.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Until then, I’ll give you a choice; you can go downstairs right now and kneel in the corner until bedtime or you can put on a pair of shorts and come out and help me do some yard work. After we get done working we’ll have dinner and then you can finish your punishment. Which do you prefer?”

“Hmmm, I’ll help you.”

“Well get dress and come on. I’ll be out by the shed,” I said as I closed the door and left her room. We worked most of the day, and generally had a good time. The garden was weeded, shrubs trimmed and the water fountain was rebuilt. Every so often I’d see Grace grimacing and rubbing her bottom, but her attitude was polite and oddly cheery.

We finished and headed inside to get cleaned up and eat dinner as the sun started to get low in the sky. I made BBQ chicken while Grace made salad, mashed potatoes and cut up fresh cucumbers. Grace’s contemptuous attitude had returned with the setting sun and was clearly present when we finished dinner.

“Well that’s the last of the dishes. Why don’t you go on up and get ready for bed and I’ll be up in a couple of minutes to finish your punishment.” I stated as I placed the last of the leftovers in the fridge. Grace just wiped her hands then went straight upstairs.

I milled around the kitchen and living room for 10 minutes or so, to give Grace enough time to get ready. I headed first to my room, to get one of my belts before going to Grace’s room. While I was looking at my belts, I realized the only ones suitable for using for punishment where quite narrow. I selected a plain white leather one I’d had since college then went to find Grace.

I knocked on Grace’s door and heard ‘come in’ quietly through it. I opened the door to find a shocking site. Grace was bent over the foot-rail of her bed, wearing only a light blue, baby doll cut nightie. She’d placed wrapped one of the sashes from the curtains over her lower back keeping her stomach against the foot-rail. A couple of pillows laid under her body and her hands were grasped behind her neck so that her elbows rested on the bed.

“Aunt Beth, I’m sorry I interfered with my spanking earlier. Please spank me for it. I don’t think I can interfere this time, so be as harsh as you have to be,” Grace said from under her golden locks.

“I know Grace, I know. I’ll give you 18 with the belt then it’ll be all over honey,” I said as soothingly as possible.

“Ok,” Grace answered.

CRACK! “OOWWWEEE!” Grace cried out as the belt temporarily imparted a band of white across the pink spheres. She wiggled about some, but the sashes kept her in position.

CRACK! “YYYEEEKSSSS!” I felt my own bottom twitch as the belt bit into Grace’s bottom.

CRACK! “OOOUUCCCHHH!” It hurt having to spank Grace as such, but I consciously knew I had to do it. If I didn’t go through with my earlier promise, Grace would loose her respect for my word.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I brought the belt down over and over, enticing a yelp from Grace each time. Her bottom returned to it’s crimson red by the sixth stroke and Grace gave up yelping by the ninth and focused just on pleading for forgiveness.

“Snifff, I’mmm soo.” CRACK! “Ouuccchh rryyy auuunnntt beeaa.” CRACK! “OOWWWWEEE sniff beeaatthh.”

I stopped at stroke 12 to take a breath. “Grace, when your mom and I used to get the belt from your grandma, she’d place the last few strokes at the base of our bottoms. She said it’d help us remember our punishment whenever we sat down for the next week, and it was effective.” I took careful aim and let the first of the last six strokes fall.

CRACK! “WWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” CRACK! “WWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Grace cried out continuously as the first stroke landed and didn’t stop until well after the last stroke fell. She kicked her feet up and down, making the subsequent strokes a little more difficult to aim, but I was able to complete the task of, as mom used to put it, ‘tanning the young lady’s seat.’ I can still remember the three times it happened to me and the pain Grace must be feeling right now.

I waited a few moments after Grace stopped squirming about before untying the sash around her waist. I helped her up and she fell into my arms. She buried her tear streaked face into my chest. Her weight forced me backwards, into sitting on the edge of her bed. She slide right onto my lap, and cuddled up close. It was just like she was 8 instead of 18. I rocked back and forth gently, trying to soothe away her tears.

I did not realize Grace had stopped sobbing until I heard her start snoring. I must have sat there with her in my arms for half an hour.

I bent by left arm around behind me and pulled the blankets back without letting go of Grace. I twisted her around my body to my left, spraying the half naked girl out on her sheets. Two feet under the covers then completed tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead. Looking down at my niece, I remembered way Kate always referred to Grace as her little angel. Her blonde hair made a nice halo when she slept. Even though I hope today will not occur again, I doubt it. CLICK!