Amanda and the Victorian Punishment Chair

A newly married girl re-discovers her masochistic leanings

by Frances Stephenson

John and Amanda were rummaging around an antique shop. This was nothing new as they both found this a splendid way to relax and, in addition, a good part of their new home was furnished thanks to this agreeable pastime.

They were married some six months ago and were pleased to find they both shared an interest in antique shops. John was especially good with his hands and was very keen on wooden furniture, in fact anything made of wood. His darling wife was very keen on china and unusual artefacts.

Amanda was looking at some handsome Masons Ironstone plates with the pretty Formosa pattern. They all seemed so badly chipped but four were fine.

‘It looks as though I may have to limit my dinner guests to four,’ Amanda thought, referring to the number of un-chipped plates. This was a joke against herself as they never had more than four guests, preferring the intimacy of small dinner parties.

In the meantime, John was much taken by a Victorian Metamorphic library chair. Although lower-backed than other examples, it was good, well-made and sufficiently broadly-based to ensure a firm and steady balance. He had been looking for such a chair for some time and this was a particularly fine looking specimen made out of mahogany and rosewood. It would fold over and transform itself into library steps. However the soft leather larger-than-normal seat did not seem to disappear and the other part folded back easily enough, but just turned itself into a solid enough base for the whole apparatus.

“May I help you sir?” A shop assistant materialised from the dark back regions of the shop.

“I am interested in this metamorphic library chair,” said John. “But I am in a bit of a puzzle as to how it actually works. There don’t seem to be any steps.”

“It is not a library chair,” said the assistant. “It is a Victorian Punishment chair and was kept in large Victorian households so that discipline could be properly maintained. “It works like this,” and he proceeded to adjust the soft leather seat which was in fact in two halves which came apart easily enough and slotted into place.

The assistant then reached in the gap and pulled up four inch high and four inch wide wooden slats which clicked into place. He then performed the same operation on the other side. There was a gap of some six inches between the two halves.

“The miscreant was made to kneel on the seat with their thighs separated by these upright slats.”

He then reached into the gap and unfolded a sturdy bar which was hinged beneath the seat. He turned it at right-angles and moved it forward.

“This bar can then be secured behind the miscreant’s knees and locked like this.”

The Assistant demonstrated the securing device.

“The victim then bends over the back of the chair which is made of the same soft leather as the seat. You will see the back of the chair is facing away from it as it is now opened out into a 45 degree slope and padded like the front. The miscreant’s torso is placed on this slope, thus presenting their nether regions for punishment. There is a soft but strong leather strap to secure the torso to the slope and a bar for them to hold whilst being punished.

“The chair also sits securely on the floor so it does not move about. There are wooden wings which, when in place, stop the spankee reaching around and protecting their bottoms. The Victorians were so good at manufacturing this sort of article. They are very well made and solid, and complicated in a Victorian way, but none the less an interesting, functional and erotic piece from a bygone era.

“We do not get many in and when we do they are what is termed in the trade as ‘slow movers’. If you are interested I could offer you an attractive deal on this one.”

John looked over to where Amanda was examining the plates. Fortunately she was bending right over and her superb bottom was beautifully presented, covered in thin light grey leggings, the VPL proving that she was, indeed, wearing brief and thin knickers, and her wonderful legs and stunning bottom were shown to great advantage. His masculine response was inevitable and this view of his wife decided him and he accepted the offer and bought the chair there and then.

They somehow got the chair back to their small house and took it into their drawing room, cum dining room, cum study, cum everything else, room. John was quite excited and turned on by his new purchase and explained it to Amanda in great detail.

“But whatever would we use it for?” She teased in a delightfully arch manner. “Perhaps we should try it out,” she said, her face delicately flushed.

John was only too eager and she took off her grey leggings to reveal thin and brief white knickers. In no time the chair had been unfolded and was ready for use.

“You kneel here, darling,” he ordered, tying to keep his rising excitement under wraps. “Now bend forward so that your bottom is correctly presented. Now hold on to this bar, that’s it. Now I will bring the locking bar up so it rests behind your knees and the strap secures you around your waist. You are now in a position to receive an extended punishment.”

‘Good heavens,’ he thought as he took in the sight of his wife’s marvellous bottom cocked up on high just waiting for a well delivered good hiding. Her bottom was straining against the position she was in and the thin material of her knickers was drum tight.

“Shall I release you now, darling?” He said.

“What a pity we haven’t go a cane,” she whispered. “But there is the box wood ruler on the desk. Perhaps you would like to give me a spanking with that.”

He nearly stumbled over in his eagerness to fetch the eighteen inch ruler. He then proceeded to use it on his wife’s very pretty bottom, not hard, but enough to raise pink welts on the pale flesh. There was no sound from Amanda so with due caution he spanked a bit harder and then harder still. He could hear the chair creaking as his darling wife coped with the stinging pain.

“I think I had better stop,” he said. “Your bottom is looking quite red.”

“Just another dozen, please John.” Amanda panted with a slight catch in her voice. John pulled her knickers over her bottom to expose the delightful sight of his wife’s bottom; pink and red from the constant ministrations of the ruler.

He identified areas that seemed to need further attention and set about making sure her bottom was well covered with not too painful welts. He then released Amanda from the constraints of the chair and helped her stand upright. She immediately flung her arms around his neck and a long and passionate embrace ensued.

Later, lying in his arms, she shyly asked John if he had enjoyed using the ruler on her. John responded with much enthusiasm and asked her about the experience.

“Yes Darling,” she said. “I enjoyed it very much. I like having my bottom smacked and find it rather stimulating. Do you think I have a nice bottom?” She asked as he stroked her still glowing rear. “The prefects at school always thought so and I always used to win the ‘girl with the most spankable bottom’ competitions. There was always a good audience whenever I was slippered or caned, which was rather frequently!

“I always felt deliciously naughty before a punishment even though I was a bit scared. Although the punishment used to sting, sometimes very much, and made me squeal it was soon over and it was always pleasurable cherishing my burning bottie.”

Amanda peeped at John through her eyelashes to see what effect her school revelations were having on him. It made her look very appealing and sexy. No need to worry! He was looking very switched on and his eyes had darkened as his pupils became larger and larger.

“Its a bit of a shame that there isn’t a whippy cane handy,” said a reflective Amanda. “Apparently I used to respond well to a good swishing!”

(John immediately resolved to buy on the very next day!)

“I identified the fact that I must have masochistic leanings,” confessed Amanda, looking rather stricken. “I rather thought married life would subdue them and that they would disappear but when I was bent over the spanking chair they re-awoke and became wide awake when I realised that you were enjoying the prospect of you spanking my bottom.

“Please can we institute some regular spanking and caning sessions? I may not always sound as though I enjoy them but I do, and I am sure I will!

“Perhaps we could institute a secret word that I could use if the pain gets too much. I probably will never use it but it would be safer, especially as I will be tightly restrained.”

John readily agrees. “Now tell me more about your school spankings,” he encouraged.

“You know that my surname was Dansey-Peake until I married you, but at school this was corrupted to Dusky-Pink, alluding to the constant state of my bottom! So I was almost universally known as Amanda, or Mandy Dusky-Pink. There used to be some lively competition amongst the prefects as to who would slipper or spank me and my bottom was in great demand. Although the spankings and slipperings made my bottom rather sore I really did not mind too much. In fact I rather liked it.

“Fiona Fairchild was the Head Girl and she used to thoroughly enjoy smacking my bottom. I am sure many of the sessions I had with her never found their way into the official Punishment Book. She also used to spank and slipper quite hard and often used to make me squeal. She was one of the very few who were authorised to use the cane, which she used on me several times. I was made to bend over and received between three and six strokes across my tightly knickered bottom. It was painful and stung like mad and the marks sometimes lasted for some days. I wonder what became of her?”

Tuesday evening was the time they has designated as the time when they would act out scenarios or, at the very least, bring the spanking chair into operation. John told Amanda that he had bought a slim whippy cane which he hoped to soon use on his wife’s sweet bottom.

He arrived home that evening and was immediately aware of the agreeable smell of lavender furniture polish. Amanda had been hard at work polishing up the spanking chair and the two implements, namely the swishy cane and a newly acquired spanking paddle. They had both received the treatment and were clean and and shiny. The cane in particular looked more than fit for purpose.

‘I’ll make Amanda squeal tonight,’ he thought.

That evening saw Amanda looking somewhat apprehensive but oh so splendid and desirable. She was wearing a very short navy blue gym skirt with a fresh crisp white blouse. A navy blue Alice band kept her soft brown hair in place but it was her shapely legs that caught his attention. She was wearing plain soft opaque navy blue ‘hold stockings’ which seemed to emphasise the slimness of her wonderful legs; the overall effect was highlighted by the fact that between the tops of the stockings and the hem of her gym skirt a fabulous area of creamy thigh was on show.

‘What a sensational picture she made,’ he thought, entranced.

She climbed onto the chair and John secured her. The sight of her bending over the chair almost caused him to have a sensory overload! Her bottom was beautiful, with not an ounce of fat, it was just presented in all its glory.

He raised his arm and gave her a sharp spank and then another. Her soft bottom was wonderfully pliant. He did not hear a sound from her. He then started to use the whippy cane, not too hard but hard enough. He proceeded to adorn Amanda’s pretty bottom with an increasing number of red stripes. He could hear her breathing which had become deeper and noted that her hips were moving slightly from side to side as she coped with the stinging pain.

She was, of course, tightly constrained and her movements were restrained but she made the wooden chair creak slightly as she moved against its confines.

John judged that Amanda had probably had enough of the sharply stinging strokes but was not finished yet.

“I am going to round this session off by giving you a paddling,” he said and proceeded to use the implement which was a one-handed lighter version of the famous American paddle with many holes in the business part so that it would pass through the air easily and yet lose none of its sting.

He soon managed to cover Amanda’s bottom with sharp spanks resulting in an even red and sore looking bottom with the cane marks still discernible.

The evening had proved to be well up to expectations and John and Amanda both had a long and satisfying evening and fell into a deep and refreshing sleep.

A few days later Amanda was outside the Supermarket when she heard a well-remembered Upper Class voice exclaim: “Well, Amanda Dusky Pink. I would know that bottom anywhere!”

She turned and saw Fiona Fairchild who was senior to Amanda at school and was Head Girl. She looked at Fiona in a speculative way, remembering that Fiona had been very strict with her at school.

They decided to delay their shopping and went for a coffee and chatted happily for a half hour or so. Fiona was attractive in that glacial aristocratic way and her piercing arctic blue eyes appraised young Amanda who had matured into a desirable woman who still had a lovely bottom.

Fiona gently steered the conversation around to school punishments and was pleased to note Amanda’s interest.

“You must come up for coffee one morning. How about next Tuesday and we can have a proper reminisce about the old days?” She said with meaning. “Do come about 11am and then you can stay for lunch. We can always split a bottle of wine.”

Amanda agreed to this pleasant plan. She was still slightly in awe of the commanding Fiona and was constantly reminded of the number of times she had to bend over and receive a spanking or the slipper from this girl.

“I am pleased that is settled,” said Fiona. “I live at number 6 Arlington Street just up the hill and off South Sussex Street. Please wear a skirt and let us see if we can continue where we left off.” She gave a glacial smile and turned to continue with her shopping, leaving an apprehensive but slightly excited Amanda.

On Tuesday morning Amanda made her way to Fiona’s home. She was wearing a short white blouse and a soft yellow skirt, very slightly flared and down to mid-thigh, yellow knickers and grey medium heeled shoes.

She noted that Arlington Street was full of desirable houses and was obviously a ‘well to do’ area. She soon found number 6 and rang the bell.

Fiona opened the door. “Lovely to see you Dusky” she greeted Amanda. “You are looking almost edible, as usual. Please come in.”

Fiona led the way into her very pleasant and well decorated home. “Please take a seat. I have just made coffee.”

The two girls settled down. After lunch, washed down with two glasses of excellent white wine, Fiona broached the subject which had been in the forefront of both of their minds.

“Amanda,” said Fiona. “I intend to smack your bottom this afternoon and then I intend to do so with regularity over the coming weeks. You have too good an asset in your peachy bottom for you to keep it to yourself. Although I am sure your husband enjoys putting you across his knee, there is still scope for you to let me enjoy your bottom as well, especially when you hear my little plan.

“I have a number of close lady friends and they are all interested in smacking naughty young girls’ bottoms. “I intend to spank, slipper and cane your bottom in front of them, although not all of the punishments at the same time! An audience will be good for you, quite like the old days.

“Naturally I would deal with you quite hard. After all, the ladies will want to see a good show. You will enjoy having your bottom well dealt with and my ladies will enjoy the spectacle of your splendid bottom being given a good hiding. I will enjoy the whole process immeasurably. What do you think?”

Amanda’s thoughts were in a bit of a whirl. If she agreed then she would undoubtedly have a very sore bottom, but nothing she could not cope with. After all, she could always leave if it got too much. She was aware the prospect of having her bottom well smacked was both exciting and stimulating.

“In principle the general scene seems OK, but I think we should have a safe word as, although I can take quite a hiding, I do have limits. I think, however, you will be able to gauge my limits by the intensity of my squealing and you will then know when to call a halt. My husband usually likes to spank me at the end of the week so I hope you will be able to deal with me at the beginning so I will have plenty of time for my bottom to recover.”

“Yes, that all seems very satisfactory,” purred Fiona, her eyes alight with interest and stimulation. “I think we should have a bit of a rehearsal. It is a long time since I last dealt with you so go to that cabinet over there.” She pointed. “In the second drawer down you will find two old friends.”

Slightly mystified, Amanda did as she was bidden and found a thin whippy cane somewhat over two and a half feet in length and remarkably like the one used to pay repeated visits to her tightly knickered bottom when at school.

The other object was a well used gym shoe, perhaps sized 10 or slightly larger. It looked very familiar, indeed.

“Yes, it is one of the Prefect’s Common Room canes from school and the Number 1 Punishment slipper.” Fiona informed her. “I nicked them when I left. I could not bear to leave them behind as they had so many happy memories for me!

“You will remember that the gym shoe was customised by an enlightened prefect, well before my time.”

She showed the shoe to Amanda who recognised the fact that two parallel grooves had been cut unto the sole, near the heel. They were about two inches apart and three or four inches long and in no way interfered with the integrity of the slipper itself but enabled small girlish hands to grip the quite heavy slipper and use with ease.

Amanda well remembered this slipper as it never ever failed to make the girls squeal in pain. The sole was almost smooth thanks to the repeated application to naughty girlish bottoms. The heavy slipper was viewed with great respect by all the girls at school who dreaded an interview with it and called it ‘Bigfoot’.

Rather nervously, Amanda brought both implements over to Fiona.

“A sharp spanking first, I think,” she said and pulled Amanda down, enjoying Amanda’s weight on her lap.

“Knickers down, I think,” and she eased the brief yellow pants down. Amanda slightly raised her hips to help with this exercise. In no time, her peachy bottom was fully exposed and Fiona started to enthusiastically spank it. Blushing pink soon turned to a dull red before Fiona stopped this agreeable exercise.

“Up you get Amanda. I think a little extra stimulation is needed and a session with Bigfoot is indicated, I think. I will leave you to be re-introduced to the cane at another time.

“You will well remember this slipper, I am sure, now bend over.”

Amanda did as instructed, aware that her bottom was already warm from the spanking.

Crash! The first stroke landed and left its painful visiting card. Amanda remembered that Fiona was famous at school for the severity of her punishments and she would always have girls squealing by the time she had finished. ‘Even me,’ thought Amanda.

The second third and fourth strokes then land and the sting was quite considerable. Amanda was breathing heavily but she had control, but only just. The fifth stung even more and she let out a low cry. Predictably the sixth made her squeal.

She prepared to straighten up but the cool voice of her tormentress broke in on her thoughts.

“Just two more, I think, and extra hard.”

With that, two really hard strokes arrived in fairly quick succession and added to the sore and already very red, soft bottom.

Amanda squealed loudly at each one.

“You may get up now,” instructed Fiona, who was considerably refreshed after this splendid exercise.

Amanda clutched at her hot and sore bottom, her face somewhat flushed and her lips pouting delightfully. Her bottom soon settled down to an even glow. She gently replaced her pants and said goodbye to a sparkly-eyed Fiona.

Walking home, she reflected in the events which had unfurled and she was happy with the outcome and the prospect of a further session next week. She, as always, rather enjoyed the aftermath of being thrashed. The sting and the pervading warmth were very definitely stimulating, although the slipper really stung and would leave some bruising marks. However, these would quickly disappear.

She really hoped, however, that her husband would not require her for a spanking tonight. Her bottom had had enough for one day.

The next week saw Amanda again making her way to Fiona’s house. She had taken extra care with her appearance but was quite simply dressed. A light grey blouse, snowy white, thin and brief knickers and a short and soft shocking pink skirt and her smart but comfortable grey shoes.

She arrived, as requested, at 11.30 to find that five ladies had assembled in Fiona’s drawing room. They were all standing and drinking coffee and talking animatedly.

“Well girls, here is this morning’s attraction. I would like to introduce Amanda to you all. At school, we used to call her Amanda Dusky Pink in view of the fact that her bottom was dealt with on a very regular basis. You will note she is colour coded for ease of identification!”

There was a ripple of amusement.

“Amanda,” instructed Fiona. “Please take off your skirt and circulate I want the ladies to fully appreciate your lovely bottom.”

Amanda did as she was bid and fell into conversation with two pretty women in their late twenties. One of the two, Mary, reached down and patted Amanda’s thinly covered bottom, her blood red nails making a startling contrast with the snowy white knickers.

“Oh, do feel, Jen,” she said to her friend. “So wonderfully soft and pliable.”

In the meantime, Fiona had removed the slipper from the drawer and brought it over to the small group.

“Perhaps Mary and Jen would like to have a close look at the implement which will soon be re-acquainting itself with your bottom.” She said with an enigmatic smile as the left the three of them.

“Are you really going to be spanked with that fearsome looking thing?” Exclaimed Jen.

“Yes Madam, and quite hard too.” Amanda slipped easily into a subservient  mode. “Fiona always slippers me hard, in fact I think she does it as hard as she can.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?” Asked Mary.

“Yes, it certainly does; sometimes very much.” Responded Amanda. “She will certainly make me squeal and I will probably be in tears at the end of it.”

The two women made sympathetic and encouraging noises, but their eyes told a different story. They were both greatly looking forward to seeing this attractive young woman’s gorgeous bottom receive a good sharp hiding.

Amanda moved off and talked to the remaining three women who seemed pleasant enough but again their eyes betrayed a cruel streak. They too examined the fearsome gym shoe.

“Come along now, I think it is time we got the main event under way,” ordered Fiona. “Amanda, take your knickers off and put them on the back of this chair.”

Amanda delicately removed her pants and stood awaiting further instruction, fully aware that apart from her shoes she was completely naked from the waist down.

“Stand here and bend over the back of this chair. Grip the front legs,” instructed Fiona.

Amanda bent forward and her bottom was nicely presented for what was to come.

Fiona picked up the gym shoe, which seemed to fit into her hand like an old friend and flexed it to and fro and then without further ado brought it sharply down on the waiting bottom. Amanda gasped at the severity and a red imprint immediately appeared.

Fiona then got into her stride and delivered good hard measured strokes with a swing of her hips and with plenty of shoulder behind each delivery. By the time six strokes had been received, Amanda’s hips were moving from side to side in an effort to cope with the dreadful sting and she had started to squeal softly.

Fiona kept up her rhythm and her target became more and more red and sore. By the time nine strokes had been delivered, Amanda was squealing loudly. The pain was obviously really getting through to her.

Fiona then stopped.

“You may get up now,” she told a weeping Amanda. “I will call a halt, for now anyway.”

Amanda twisted and turned to try and cope with the dreadful sting and provided an entertaining spectacle for the five ladies, all whom were somewhat flushed and excited.

After a while, things had calmed down a bit and Amanda was standing quietly with her back to the ladies, who were feasting their eyes on her well-thrashed and deeply glowing bottom.

Predictably, Jen and Mary were the first two to come forward and talk to Amanda. Jen placed her hand on Amanda’s glowing bottom and exclaimed at the heat.

“It must be very sore,” she enquired in an interested fashion which had nothing whatsoever to do with sympathy.

“Yes Madam, it is very sore and stings really badly.”

“I remember Fiona telling us that was ‘all for now’” Commented Mary. “Do you think you will be able to cope with a further hiding?”

“Oh yes, Madam, I will have to,” said an increasingly anxious Amanda. “Or I will have to cope with a penalty thrashing.”

There was the sound of a champagne cork popping and Fiona filled six glasses with one for Amanda.

“Ladies, a toast. I give you: ‘Dusky’s bottom’!”

Everyone drank to this, including Amanda, as the stimulant was most welcome after her spanking. They had started on their third bottle when Fiona called a halt.

“I think I should round off today’s proceedings by giving Dusky a further six strokes,” she announced.

Amanda turned pale and shifted uneasily.

“Come here, Dusky, and bend over as before. That’s good; I am not going to be easy on you and the final six will be as hard, if not harder, than the nine you have just had!”

Fiona picked up the slipper and flexed it menacingly before delivering the first stroke. Amanda let out a sharp cry.

‘God that hurt,’ she thought.

The slippering continued and Amanda was loudly squealing at each crashing stroke. She was obviously in some distress, but the hard-hearted Fiona just continued until the sixth stroke had landed.

Much to the pleasure of the five ladies, Amanda again twisted and turned and did a little dance to try and dissipate the dreadful sting.

Finally a damp and rather forlorn Amanda was sufficiently recovered and, having received permission, carefully replaced her knickers, her red and sore bottom showing clearly through the thin white material. Her skirt was then replaced.

Fiona escorted her to the door, having bad a subdued farewell to the ladies.

“Well done indeed, Amanda,” she said encouragingly and gave her arm a squeeze. “I expect the girls really enjoyed themselves; I am really very pleased and one never knows what will develop, thank you, again.”

Amanda then made her way homewards, down the hill.

Her bottom still stung abominably and, although thin and lightweight, her knickers chaffed against the tender and still very hot area left by the slipper. She was also frankly stimulated and made plans to vamp her husband that evening.

She debated whether to tell him about her adventures at Fiona’s and decided she would tell him. ‘He is bound to see my bottom anyway,’ she reasoned.

She also resolved to suggest he becomes directly involved in some way as she was convinced he would greatly enjoy seeing her spanked and dealt with by the commanding and glacial, but undeniably attractive, Fiona.

The End

© Frances Stephenson 2014