A girl in trouble with her mother, and a boyfriend hovering. By another new writer to us, Alice Smith. From the old site

By Alice Smith

On the way home from school in the afternoon, eighteen-year-old Sarah Chambers sat staring silently out of the window of the bus, clutching her school bag containing the letter from the headmistress addressed to her mother. Although it was sealed, Sarah guessed it contained a report about her conduct earlier that day when she had been placed on report for rudeness to the games mistress.

She bitterly regretted behaving so stupidly, but it was too late now. Her mother had warned her that if she got into any further trouble at school she would be punished when she got home. Sarah still painfully remembered the last time she had been sent straight to bed with a spanking from her mother, something she did not want to happen again, especially today of all days.

The pretty blond sixth-former glanced at her watch. It was already after four o’clock and she had asked Billy, her new boyfriend, to come round at five before they went off to the bowling club together. She had been looking forward to this day for ages and had been really excited about introducing Billy to her friends. Anxiously, she tried to decide whether to risk keeping the letter and hand it to her mother in the morning or ring Billy and stop him coming round. She certainly didn’t want him finding out she still got spanked at her age, but neither did she want to miss seeing him.

Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by several of her school friends calling out to her as they got off the bus, saying they would see her later. Sarah forced a smile but at that moment her mind was far from thinking about the fun they had been planning that evening. Instead she now faced the prospect of spending it alone in her bedroom with a very sore bottom. Reaching inside her bag, she pulled out the envelope and looked at it glumly. How she wished she hadn’t been so silly that morning.

Just then, the bus pulled up at the end of her road. Quickly putting the envelope back, she got off and walked the few hundred yards to her home, hoping against hope that her mother might be out when she got there. Her heart sank however when she saw the car in the driveway. For a moment she hesitated, unsure whether to go inside or wait around until Billy arrived. What if the headmistress had already called her mother? She didn’t want Billy there when her mother confronted her about it. Sarah decided the best course was to go on in and quickly get changed ready to go out in the hope that she could delay matters until later. If things came to a head, she would just have to try and reason with her mother.

Letting herself in quietly through the front door, she crept quietly across the front hall and was just about to go upstairs to her room when her mother emerged from the kitchen.

“Hello Sarah. How was school today?”

The tone of her mother’s voice at once told Sarah that she was in trouble.

“It was OK,” she replied, trying to affect an air of normality while avoiding her mother’s gaze.

“OK? Well, I’ve had a call from Miss Trotman’s office,” Mrs Chambers announced with a knowing look. “I believe you have a letter from her for me?”

The colour drained from Sarah’s face.

Her mother held out her hand, waiting for her daughter to give it to her: “Well?”

Without a word, Sarah took the envelope out of her bag and handed it to her mother. She waited silently while her mother read the letter, nervously biting her lower lip.

Several seconds passed before Mrs Chambers looked up at her daughter. Even in her green school uniform blazer, knee-length pleated grey skirt and her hair tied in a pretty ponytail, she looked much older than her eighteen years. Sarah raised her large grey eyes pleadingly to her mother. She certainly didn’t want another spanking. Recalling the painful aftermath of the last occasion, her hands instinctively went to the back of her skirt at the mere thought of it.

“You don’t seem to have learnt your lesson, do you?” said Mrs Chambers with a sigh of exasperation. “I told you what would happen if I got another report about your behaviour at school again.”

“I’m sorry, mother. I really am. I don’t know what came over me. I promise I won’t do it again, honestly.” Sarah did her best to sound as contrite as possible, hoping to placate her mother.

“You should have thought of that earlier, my girl,” Mrs Chambers said sharply. “You can’t say haven’t been warned. Go on up and get ready for your punishment. You know what to expect.”

Sarah’s stomach sank. She knew well enough what her mother meant by ‘getting ready’ for punishment. A wave of panic swept over her as she realised she was expected to get changed into the special ‘punishment’ pyjamas that she was always made to wear on such occasions. Her mother had made the one-piece garment from a pair of her old school pyjamas sewn together at the waist, but intended to be worn back to front so that they buttoned at the back. This meant having to have the buttons done up for her, a fact that only added to her sense of shame whenever she was punished. Sarah hated having to wear them more than anything else, knowing just how ridiculous she looked in them.

“Oh no, mother, please. Not now.” Conscious that her boyfriend might arrive at any moment, Sarah pleaded with her mother. “Can’t this wait till later? Please… I’ve arranged to go out with Billy this evening. He’s coming round at any moment.”

Mrs Chambers’ mind was already made up however. A strict disciplinarian, she was determined to deal with her daughter’s misconduct firmly and swiftly in the usual manner.

“Don’t argue. It’s pyjama time for you young lady. Go on up and get ready now, right away.”

“Pleeease, mother…. I’m begging you, not now… Please.” Sarah’s pleas became more insistent at the thought of being in punishment pyjamas when Billy arrived.

“The quicker you do as you are told, the quicker it will be over and done with,” her mother retorted.

Tears of frustration filled Sarah’s eyes as she realised the futility of arguing with her mother. She knew it only made matters much worse. There was no getting out of the punishment that awaited her.

“It’s so bloody unfair,” she sobbed, stamping her foot in anger before running upstairs to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

Inside her room, Sarah took off her school blazer, undid her yellow and green school tie and sat slumped on the edge of her bed fighting back tears of frustration, thinking only of the evening she had been so looking forward to. Instead of which, she was now having to get undressed and into pyjamas ready for a spanking like a naughty child. How on earth could she ever explain to Billy what had happened?

Just then, the doorbell rang downstairs. Sarah gave a start of alarm as she realised it might be Billy. A wave of panic engulfed her as she got up and stood by the door, holding her breath, straining to listen out. She heard her mother go to the door and then, unmistakably, the sound of Billy’s voice. Despite her longing to see him, Sarah desperately hoped her mother would make some excuse and send him away, She heard the front door close but the voices continued. To her horror, she realised her mother must have invited Billy in. But then a glimmer of hope. Perhaps her mother had changed her mind and had decided to let her go out after all. She felt a faint surge of relief yet dreaded Billy learning of the punishment her mother planned for her.

Sarah stood nervously by the door for several minutes wondering what was going on downstairs, until she heard her mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

Mrs Chambers entered the room carrying a leather-covered paddle in her hand and eyed her daughter sternly: “Why aren’t you in pyjamas?”

“Is Billy still downstairs?” Sarah demanded anxiously, ignoring her mother’s question.

“I’ve told him to wait while I see if you will be able to go out later,” Mrs Chambers replied, raising Sarah’s hopes once more. Perhaps her mother had relented after all. “You must have your punishment first, however. You can go out when I’ve dealt with you, but not before.”

Sarah stared dumbly at her mother in disbelief. Surely she didn’t mean to spank her while Billy was still in the house?

“Can you please ask him to go first?” she demanded urgently. “I don’t want him here now.”

“Very well, but you won’t be able to go out tonight if I do,” said Mrs Chambers firmly.

“Please, mother, I don’t want him here now. Please make him go away,” Sarah implored. “I’ll do whatever you want, but not with him here.” She was willing to get her punishment over with if it meant being able to go out after all, but not with Billy listening downstairs.

“You heard what I said. The choice is yours.”

Some choice, thought Sarah as she stood nervously fingering the waistband of her skirt, her gaze fixed firmly on the instrument in her mother’s hand. Yet she so desperately wanted to be out with Billy at the bowling club, she was willing to do anything at that moment to please her mother. It was surely worth getting the punishment over with, even with him downstairs, she reasoned. She just hoped he wouldn’t find out.

“Alright,” she said eventually, her voice little more than a whisper, “I’ll have it now, but please don’t let him hear.”

“Very well then. Hurry up and get ready.”

Sarah hesitated. She knew the hated punishment pyjamas were kept in the bottom drawer of her wardrobe. It had been several months since she had last had to wear them and she certainly didn’t want to have to now.

“Can’t I wear these? Please…” she asked, reaching for her new pink satin pyjamas that lay folded on the pillow of her bed.

“No, certainly not. You know what you must wear when you’re punished,” Mrs Chambers said firmly.

“Oh please, mother. It’s bad enough being spanked without having to wear those,” Sarah protested. Her mother opened the clothes cupboard, rummaged among her daughter’s clothes until she found the punishment pyjamas and held them out for her daughter.

“Put them on, Sarah.”

It wasn’t as if they afforded any protection anyway, but her mother always made her wear them for a spanking.

“Pleeease, mother,” she pleaded. “Can’t we just get this over with as quickly as possible, please?”

“You know the rule, Sarah,” Mrs Chambers said impatiently. “Come on now, do as you’re told. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go out.”

With a groan of utter despair, Sarah began to slowly undress out of her school uniform as her mother stood waiting.

“It’s so bloody unfair,” she complained bitterly as she first removed her skirt, then her shoes and socks followed by her shirt and bra. For a moment she paused, hoping at least to keep her school knickers on, but knew her mother would only make her remove them anyway, insisting as always that she must undress completely. Reluctantly, she eased the elasticated waistband down over her thighs and stepped out of them before reaching for the one-piece pyjama suit.

Under her mother’s silent gaze, Sarah quickly stepped into the pale pink rose-patterned pyjama trousers, remembering to put them on back to front so that they buttoned up at the back, before slipping her arms into the jacket. As on previous occasions, she stood waiting meekly while her mother fastened the buttons right up to the Peter Pan collar as if she was a little girl being got ready for bed.

“Pick your clothes up and fold them properly,” Mrs Chambers said, stepping back and waiting for her pyjama-clad daughter.

Sarah knew the routine. Her mother always made her fold her clothes neatly whenever she was punished, a petty rule that only added to the feeling of misery and resentment inside her. It was all part of the punishment but somehow the knowledge that Billy was waiting downstairs while she stood there in the childish pyjamas ready to be spanked only added to her discomfort. Obediently she folded each garment in the prescribed manner, skirt and shirt at the bottom, knickers, socks and tie on top, before placing them on the bed and turning imploringly to her mother.

“Not too hard… Pleeease!” She expected it would be at least six, or even more, depending on her mother’s mood. However many it was, she knew it would hurt like hell.

“As you don’t seem to have learned your lesson from last time, I think you deserve at least ten, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question that didn’t invite a response.

With tears in her eyes, Sarah made one last plea: “Please, mother. I’ve said I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I’m sure you are now, but I’m afraid it’s too late. Now get into position.” Mrs Chambers was determined to teach her daughter a lesson she would not forget in a hurry.

Getting into position meant bending down and presenting her backside for a spanking just as she had done on many previous occasions, ever since she was a little girl. Only now she was a grown-up young woman of eighteen and her boyfriend was waiting downstairs!

Feeling suddenly cold and vulnerable, Sarah stepped into the middle of the room. Catching sight of herself in the mirror for a fleeting moment, she was suddenly aware just how ridiculous she looked. If Billy or any of her school friends could have seen her at that moment she would have died of embarrassment.

“Please do it quietly,” she whispered urgently to her mother before bending over. Her ample bottom was thrust out backwards invitingly as she touched her toes, stretching the pyjama material tight. Sarah’s hair fell forward untidily and her buttocks trembled nervously, making ripples in the fabric that betrayed her growing apprehension as she waited for the punishment to begin.

For a moment Mrs Chambers eyed her daughter’s pyjama-clad backside and then, taking careful aim with the leather-covered paddle in her right hand, struck the left buttock cheek a resounding blow that dented the thin pyjama material deep into the soft, yielding flesh.


In the stillness of the room, the noise was like a firecracker going off, and Sarah’s head shot up, her ponytail flying out as she gave a sharp intake of breath. Although she thought she could remember how much her mother’s spankings hurt, they always seemed much worse at the time. Holding her position, she waited for the next, her buttocks clenching convulsively in anticipation.


This time, Mrs Chambers struck the girl’s right buttock with as much force as she could muster, almost causing her to topple forward. Unable to see clearly through the tears in her eyes, Sarah fought to stay in position as the pain seared into her bottom, determined not to cry out. Worse almost than the pain itself was the awful humiliation of having to submit to a spanking at her age like a naughty child.


The third stroke landed quickly on her left cheek again, almost catching her by surprise. Again, she remained bending over, emitting little gasps of agony through clenched teeth, though desperately wanting to rub the stinging in her bottom which felt as if it was on fire.


This time Sarah’s head shot up as she felt the full force of the fourth stroke on her right buttock and she was unable to prevent herself from uttering a muffled cry of pain. Somehow she summoned the willpower to remain bending over despite the pain that enveloped her backside.

Mrs Chambers paused, surveying the results of her efforts so far. She noticed her daughter’s legs were trembling uncontrollably, a sure sign that she was making a lasting impression. One of the reasons she always insisted on pyjamas being worn for such punishment was that the thin cotton material protected little more than the girl’s modesty.


The fifth stroke was laid on with such force that Sarah was finally unable to prevent herself from leaping up, hands clasped instantly to her bottom, her head back and mouth wide open in a breathless gasp.

Sarah’s breathless gasp became a breathless cry as she continued to squirm, hands urgently rubbing her bottom through the thin pyjama material. No matter how hard she tried, she always found it impossible to get used to the awful pain of a spanking from her mother.

“Take your hands away. And bend over again,” came Mrs Chambers’ relentless order.

“Plee…eease….. aahhh…. p-please, it hurts!” Sarah began to plead. All the same, stiffly and painfully, she forced herself to obey the order. She had learnt to do so, whatever the cost in effort and will, or risk further punishment. The twin curves of her buttocks clenched convulsively as she reached for her toes.

“And this time,” continued Mrs Chambers, tapping her daughter’s quivering buttocks with the paddle, “stay bending over.” Sarah’s bottom twisted from side to side in some sort of vain attempt to escape what must come.

Up once more went Mrs Chambers’ right arm with the paddle, and then…


Up came Sarah again, hands clasping involuntarily, her bottom writhing, breasts bouncing within the confines of the pink pyjamas as she stood hopping from foot to foot, emitting little whinnying gasps of pain as she looked imploringly at her mother.

“I told you to stay bending over,” Mrs Chambers said angrily.

“Owwwh…Please. It hurts!”

“It’ll hurt a lot more if you don’t get back into position.”

Weeping with pain and frustration, Sarah forced herself to bend over once more.

Mrs Chambers lifted the paddle and struck the soft flesh of her daughter’s pyjama-clad bottom with a resounding THWACK!

The blow flattened the entire surface of both buttocks in a single violently stinging stroke that drew a squeal from the girl, setting her bottom into frantic agitations as she struggled to stay in position and at the same time reached back to clasp the stinging flesh.

“Owwh. Oh God… No more, plee..ease,” she sobbed. “It hurts… please, I’ll be good, I promise, I won’t do it again, please.”

Sarah was no longer concerned about her boyfriend downstairs. All she could think of was the excruciating pain in her backside and how much more she had to endure as she did her best to remain bending over.

“Take your hands away,” Mrs Chambers snapped.

Reluctantly Sarah obeyed, reaching down to grasp her ankles, bending her knees so that her bottom was in position for the next stroke.

Mrs Chambers studied her daughter’s quivering bottom encased in the thin cotton trousers. Three more to go. She aimed the next stroke carefully, lower down where the girl would sit.


Sarah really felt that one. Shrieking loudly, she leapt up, hands again urgently clasped to her sore bottom. Frantically she tried to rub the pain away, but it refused to go – in fact it seemed to get worse!

Mrs Chambers allowed Sarah to dance around in an undignified manner for a few moments and then brusquely ordered her to bend over again. Sobbing bitterly, Sarah begged to be let off, but it was to no avail.

“Come along, bend over. We haven’t finished yet.”

The weeping schoolgirl had to resume her position.

“Stay still, girl!” ordered Mrs Chambers. But, in fact, she would have been very disappointed if her naughty daughter was able to stay still!

The ninth and tenth strokes struck Sarah’s tender bottom full force.


The teenager’s reactions showed that these two had hurt just as much as their predecessors. After Sarah had felt the tenth stroke bite deep into her agonised bottom flesh, sending waves of overpowering pain to all parts of her body, the schoolgirl tried to tense herself for the final two strokes.

To her surprise her mother told her to stand up. Sarah felt relief. It was all over at last. She must have miscounted! She realised that her mother was addressing her.

“You have received ten strokes, Sarah. I’m prepared to believe that that is sufficient to remind you not to misbehave at school again for some time to come!” Sarah, both hands clasped to the rear of the pyjamas and with tears running down her pretty face, fervently agreed.

“Oh, yes! Oh! I’ll never do owww . . . wowww do it again, I promise! Ow . . . Oh God! It hurts!”

Good. Then hopefully you will have learned your lesson,” Mrs Chambers observed as she unbuttoned the back of her daughter’s punishment pyjamas.

“Shall I tell Billy you’ll be down in a little while?”

Sarah uttered a moan of despair at the mention of Billy. The thought of him still waiting downstairs merely added to her misery and discomfort. He must surely have heard her being spanked? How could she face him after this? Yet she so desperately wanted to see him again.

The End