Awkward when a girl’s mother is friendly with her headmaster
By Robert Roberts
Victoria Kingsley was awakened by her radio alarm clock bursting into life with loud music. Ten minutes past seven. On a normal school day she would bounce up out of bed and dance around to whatever music was being played before getting to the bathroom for a shower ahead of Karen, her younger sister. Not this morning. She had suffered a sleepless night, eventually dozing off at 5 o’clock. Staring up at the ceiling, she lay motionless, biting her bottom lip and trying to disconnect her thoughts from her 10 o’clock appointment with her headmaster.
His words would not leave her thoughts.
“Vicky. You’ve broken the rules and you are going to be caned.”
This sudden, unexpected and shocking revelation delivered by her headmaster yesterday afternoon, reduced her to a nervous wreck.
“Make an appointment with Mrs Balfour on your way out,” he ordered firmly and with unmistakable authority.
His matter-of-fact attitude contributed to her distress. Wasn’t this the kindly teacher who had taken a special interest in her and mentored her through school? Supported her during her recovery from injuries sustained in a mountaineering accident. Appointed her as a prefect and, only last week, provided a glowing reference to help her application to become a student at the university of her choice.
“I’ve got to make an appointment to see Mr Cole.” Victoria Kingsley, tearful and embarrassed, addressed the headmaster’s secretary, Maud Balfour. Maud was a smartly dressed lady in her early forties. Loyal and protective of the headmaster, but always respectful and pleasant with the students of all ages.
The door between Maud’s office and the headmaster’s office was ajar and she could clearly hear the conversation that had taken place between Victoria and Mr Cole. Discretely, not quizzing Victoria, she opened the diary and suggested 10 o’clock tomorrow. She smiled sympathetically, and as she entered the details into the diary she asked Victoria, “What lectures do you have tomorrow morning?”
Victoria responded, “Free period until 10 o’clock and then physics until lunchtime.”
“Is that with Mr Green?”
“I’ll let Mr Green know you are excused your 10 o’clock lecture. Your name will be called out in morning assembly with details of your transgressions, but you need not attend. I’m sure you don’t want to be subjected to the sniggering and jibes of the younger students. So I will look after your registration with Miss Scott and all you have to think about is to you get yourself here for, say, 9.55. Any questions?”
Tearfully shaking her head, Victoria whispered, “No. Thank you.”
Maud, showing sympathy, said, “Try not to think about it. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
Victoria couldn’t wait to get home and be consumed with the love of her doting mother. She would make all the bad things go away. Dramatically entering the kitchen, she threw her arms around her mother, who was preparing dinner.
“Mum,” she sobbed. “I’m going to be caned at school tomorrow.”
Susan Kingsley released herself from her daughter’s embrace. Never surprised by her younger daughter, Karen, getting herself into trouble but Victoria was so well behaved.
“What have you done, Vicky?” asked Susan, both surprised and taken aback by her daughter’s anxiety.
“It’s Mr Cole. He was horrible and I hate him.”
“Sit down and calm yourself. Mr Cole would not act unreasonably.”
Susan Kingsley had a lot of respect for the headmaster, David Cole. She had got to know him very well when Victoria, as a fourteen-year-old, fell halfway down a mountain, sustaining serious injuries. He took it upon himself to visit Victoria and the family in hospital and at home, and introduced Victoria to a home learning programme whilst she was recuperating. When she returned to full time schooling, he gave her lots of encouragement and arranged for extra tuition to help her to get up to speed. He and Susan were on first name terms and occasionally met for a coffee outside the school environment.
Having got her mother’s attention, Victoria calmed down and explained her predicament.
“If you were caught in the pub drinking and smoking when you should have been taking a maths lesson I’m not surprised that you are going to be punished,” her mother said.
“But not the cane, mum,” she wailed. “You’ve got to do something.”
“Do what exactly?” Susan exclaimed despairingly.
Just at that moment, Karen, Victoria’s younger sister, arrived home from school and could not hide her delight.
“So you’re getting the whack from Old King Cole? Word is out, you naughty girl,” Karen laughed, enjoying her older sister’s discomfort.
Her mother intervened.
“Karen, stop teasing.”
The truth is, Karen dearly loved her older sister and, after a minute of enjoying her uneasiness, she relented and offered some words of encouragement.
“Mr Cole thinks you’re special. He’ll go easy on you.”
Karen was no stranger to the slipper, but never the cane from their headmaster. Her rule-breaking exploits had been dealt with by her housemistress, including having had the cane. Victoria pumped her for an insight into being caned.
“For someone who was knocked unconscious, suffered a broken wrist, two broken ribs and a deep gash and loads of bruises, a caning will be a piece of cake,” Karen suggested reassuringly.
“But what about the embarrassment? Bending over and showing my knickers and at the command of the headmaster, of all people.”
“You’ll be lucky to keep your knickers on,” teased Karen.
Victoria wailed, “I want to die.”
Mrs Kingsley choked. “Surely not.”
Karen laughed. Knowing canings had to be given over one item of clothing, she was enjoying herself at the expense of her mother and sister.
“I had to remove my knickers for my last caning, but that was my third caning and Mrs Webster had lost patience with me and wanted to teach me a ‘proper lesson’, as she called it.”
“So Vicky won’t have to remove her knickers in front of Mr Cole?” challenged Mrs Kingsley seeking final confirmation.
“As much as he would love to see his favourite student with her knickers down and bending over on his command, probably not,” replied Karen with a glint in her eye.
“Mr Cole is not like that!” snapped Susan. “He’s a very decent person and he’s only doing what is required by the school governors.”
“If you say so Mum,” answered Karen with a smile.
A shell-shocked Victoria sat at the kitchen table, distraught at the prospect of the humiliation she would have to endure, and this was before the application of a dose of biting pain to her posterior. Her mum wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on her forehead. Since Victoria’s near-death experience on the mountain, Susan constantly tried to take special care of her.
“I’m coming with you tomorrow, darling. You won’t be facing this ordeal alone.”
“Nooooo!” screeched Karen. “The ultimate humiliation. Mummy turning up to try and get her darling off a deserved spanking? How embarrassing is that? She can take it like we all have to.”
Karen concluded. “I’ve got to get my homework done. I’m going out tonight,” and departed to her bedroom.
The hapless Victoria appealed to her Mum. “Do you mind if I have a cigarette? It would really help to calm my nerves.”
“Oh, Vicky. You know I don’t approve. I thought you had given it up.”
“I promise. I will after tomorrow.”
“Make sure your father doesn’t catch you.”
Susan Kingsley’s husband, William, arrived home from work to be confronted with a red-eyed and sniffling daughter. He had worked a long day with a 100 mile drive home. It was 10.00 pm and he was ready for bed, especially with an early start tomorrow morning.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” he addressed his tearful daughter.
“She’s getting the cane tomorrow from David Cole,” interjected Susan.
William seemed unconcerned, almost disinterested as he thumbed the pages of his newspaper.
“What did you do Petal?”
“She got caught in the pub drinking in school time,” Susan once again answering on behalf of her daughter.
“Well that kind of behaviour deserves a good caning. No argument. If you break the rules you accept the consequences.”
“It’s my first ever caning, dad,” lamented Victoria, seeking some sympathy.
Her father sighed and shook his head. Victoria’s sought after sympathy would not be forthcoming from her father.
“First caning. It’s like a rites of passage. Every girl should get a taste of it. Won’t do you any harm, Vicky.”
“William! It’s inhuman. Our daughter is going to be beaten with a stick,” exclaimed his wife.
“If it’s David doing the honours, I’m sure you will be treated very fairly. What time?”
“10 o’clock,” murmured Victoria discontentedly.
“Be brave, darling. Maintain your dignity. Take what’s coming, learn and move on. Good night. I’m off to bed.”
Ten to eight, and music played on Victoria’s radio. Karen came into Victoria’s bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed.
“I take it you are excused morning assembly and lectures prior to your appointment.”
Victoria nodded sullenly. “Mrs Balfour is sorting it out.”
“You sixth formers get some very decent perks. I can just imagine Webster’s reaction if I asked for some time off before she caned me.” She chuckled and held Victoria’s hand. “Do you want to meet up at lunchtime?”
“You only want to hear about my caning so that’s a no, thank you.”
“OK. Good luck,” and with that Karen headed off to school.
Another hour elapsed before Susan came into her daughter’s bedroom.
“Up you get. You can’t laze in bed moping. Do you want some breakfast?”
“No thanks. I’ll just have a cup of coffee. My tummy is whirling like the washing machine.”
“Get up and shower. I’ll do your hair and then you can get dressed. Perhaps you should treat this as a rather formal occasion and dress accordingly. Your full school uniform might be appropriate, and I think the headmaster would appreciate if you make the effort. If you wear jeans or your school uniform trousers it might be adding to the discomfort when you try to pull them up after the headmaster has finished caning you. If you wear your school dress, it can just flop down when it’s over.”
“Good thinking. But you are going to try and dissuade him from whacking me, aren’t you?”
“Of course, darling, but just in case.”
Victoria’s anxiety started to steadily increase as the minutes ticked by. Out of the shower, hair dried, she took her time selecting her school uniform from her wardrobe. She recalled how, after her injuries, she was left with a visible scar extending from just below the right cheek of her buttocks to her knee. Self-conscious and embarrassed, she tried to hide the disfigurement. She wore trousers or, if wearing a dress, black tights were her friend, but as she gradually returned to full-time school she had to attend games and swimming. No hiding the scar in her sports and games kit. But Victoria’s school friends rallied around her, complimenting her on her bravery and giving her lots of support and she built up her confidence. She was able to show off the scar with pride and didn’t feel the need to hide it when amongst her school friends and classmates. But not in front of the headmaster.
So what to wear? For the first time in two years she slipped on a pair of grey school regulation knickers. Not very sexy for an eighteen-year-old, but perhaps appropriate for the occasion. Tights, stockings, socks or bare legs? She would feel most comfortable in tights, but she thought tights would break the rule of just one item of clothing over which the cane is administered. Stockings and suspender belt it would have to be, and black stockings would partially hide her scar. Uniform yellow shirt, bra, plain white underskirt, grey pinafore dress, green and yellow striped tie, black shoes and green blazer.
Fully dressed and sitting in front of the mirror, she brushed her long curly brown hair. Pony tail or leave it loose? Her thoughts were interrupted when mum called her, reminding her it was 9.30 and time to make a move. Pulse racing, she collected her shoulder bag and joined her mother in the hallway.
The Vauxhall Victor stood on the drive bearing learner plates. “Here you are, darling.” Susan offered Victoria the ignition keys. “You drive. Practice for your test next month.”
“No, mum, I’m not concentrating properly at the moment.” She loved driving and would jump at any opportunity to get behind the wheel, but not today.
Susan was keenly aware of her daughter’s angst.
“I wished I could take the caning for you, Vicky.”
Within a few minutes, they arrived at the school. Susan swept through the main entrance and straight into the staff car park where she found a good parking spot.
“Mum, you can’t park here. This is the staff car park. You need to move to the visitors’ car park,” exclaimed a nervous Victoria.
“Nonsense. This is close to where we need to go. Out you get.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? Will they give me the cane?” laughed Susan.
The two of them climbed the stairs to the first-floor landing for the secretary’s and headmaster’s offices, on the way passing Victoria’s sixth form room. She desperately hoped no other students would see her as they would know she was going to be caned after the announcement of her wrongdoing at this morning’s assembly. They arrived at Mrs Balfour’s office and entered, ten minutes early. Pleasantries exchanged before Susan asked if Mr Cole might be available for a brief chat. Rather than use the intercom, Mrs Balfour tapped on the headmaster’s door and entered.
“Victoria Kingsley is here nice and early for her appointment with you, but she is with her mother who would like a private word.”
David Cole beamed. Always more than happy to meet Susan Kingsley even if on this occasion circumstances might need very careful handling.
“Ask Mrs Kingsley to come in. And Maud. Would you arrange for two coffees please?”
Maud dutifully obeyed. She invited Susan into the headmaster’s office before preparing the coffees, motioning to Victoria to be seated. It was going to be a few minutes before Victoria’s presence would be required in the headmaster’s office.
“So pleased to see you again, Susan. I understand your reason for being here,” said the headmaster, welcoming Susan with a handshake and warm smile.
Susan was genuinely pleased to see Mr Cole once again. He had not only been so kind to her stricken daughter following her serious injuries, but believed she enjoyed a ‘connection’ with him. A two-way chemistry she was about to try and cash in on behalf of her daughter.
“Surely, David, you could find a way to avoid caning Vicky.”
“I realise this is a harrowing time for Vicky and I wish I could avoid the caning, but her behaviour leaves me with no choice. I caned her accomplice last night. It would be unfair to treat her more leniently.”
“But you know more than most the suffering she has gone through.”
“Yes. The cane is meant to be painful but it’s safe. No harm will come to her. After watching her cope so bravely with her injuries, I’m confident she will soon get over this. It’s her pride that will hurt the most.” The headmaster remained firm but thoughtful of Susan’s feelings of apprehension for her daughter.
“Vicky so looks up to you. She knows how much you supported her and now she can’t believe you want to do this to her.” Susan looked appealingly towards the headmaster, hoping to see a change in his attitude.
David Cole admired Susan. The defence of her daughter, her tenacity, her well-planned line of reasoning, but also her youthful looks. As she progressed with her arguments, he enjoyed her close presence and thought how easy it would be to think she and Vicky were sisters. Slim, elegantly dressed, beautifully groomed, shoulder-length curly brown hair and an alluring hint of an expensive perfume.
Susan paused, waiting for a verbal reaction from her adversary, wondering if he had been listening to her or just undressing her with his eyes.
“The eyes of school are on me. Victoria’s transgressions are common knowledge. The penalty for her transgression is mandatory. I cannot be seen to favour her. You must understand, Susan.”
But Susan would not give up.
“Victoria is agonising over her damaged relationship with you. The two of you got close in recent years and that is now going to be thrown away. You will only think of her as the girl you had the power to force her to bend over whilst delivering untold agony with the cane to her bottom. She already thinks you have turned against her.”
“I have had to show her firmness and authority, but she can rest assured that I think no less of her because of this one-off incident. I will make sure to get her back into my office next week when she has had time to reflect, and straighten out our relationship.”
Disappointed by her inability to reduce her daughter’s punishment, Susan played her last card.
“What about our relationship, David? How am I supposed to react to a man who chooses to inflict such hurt to my daughter?”
This last comment caused the headmaster to think carefully. He certainly did not want to lose the friendship of Susan. Susan wondered if her threat would make any impression on David, or had she misinterpreted their relationship. Partly because of his professionalism as a headmaster wanting to do the right thing and partly because he judged he had the upper hand, his response remained firm.
“I think your reaction would be that I am in a very difficult situation and you would respect me for taking the right decision rather than an easy way out.”
Susan faltered. She realised she had failed to protect her daughter. Averting her eyes from David, she had no further plea to offer.
“Why don’t we invite Victoria to join us and set about getting her through this ordeal?” suggested the patient headmaster.
Susan nodded, now fretting. How would her daughter react to the bad news? How would she cope with the painful and humiliating experience?
“Mrs Balfour, would you come into my office with Victoria?” The headmaster spoke on the intercom and was now confidently displaying his control. Susan had lost her fortitude and was on the defensive.
The door opened and Maud Balfour entered with Victoria one step behind her and still hopeful she might yet avoid the dreaded cane whipping across her buttocks. She was very quickly brought into the real world. Her mother jumped to her feet and approached her before David Cole could say anything.
“Vicky, darling. We’ve considered the alternatives and we think it best you take the cane. Sorry. I did my best.”
Victoria stiffened noticeably and looked horrified. Susan turned away, downcast. The headmaster took firm control and spoke to Maud.
“Please help Victoria to prepare.”
Maud, well versed in the headmaster’s corporal punishment procedures, engaged gently with the ill-fated girl.
“Let me take your blazer, Victoria,” she said, and helped the tearful girl remove her school blazer before hanging it on a hook on the wall. She then guided her over to the headmaster’s desk. Before asking the young student to bend over the desk, she cleared a space for her to rest her forearms. Holding out her hand, she indicated to Victoria to assume the position required to receive her punishment.
David Cole collected the senior cane from the cupboard and stood to the side of his desk adjacent to Victoria’s prone position. He waited and observed as Maud continued with the preparations, noticing Susan sitting on the edge of the sofa, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her short, leather skirt.
Maud spoke quietly to Victoria.
“I’m going to lift your dress and underskirt above your waist and tuck them in to keep them out of the way. If you could just raise your hips for a second.”
Victoria obliged, thus helping Maud to suitably arrange her clothing. Maud was in no hurry and made a tidy job of the rearrangement. She stood back and observed her handiwork.
David Cole could now see his target and he liked what he saw. A lovely shaped, firm bottom, creamy white, flawless skin encased in the waistband of the suspender belt and the suspender straps hooked up to the tops of the black stockings, presenting an agreeable target. A prominent scar could be seen starting in the crease of where her right buttock aligned with her thigh and disappearing behind the black stocking top. He made a silent note to himself that he must not apply a stroke to the crease for fear of causing damage to the scar tissue. He smiled to himself at the sight of Victoria’s regulation school knickers, large enough to cover a goodly portion of her bottom. Maud would see to it that those knickers would not provide any protection.
Sure enough, Maud’s next action was to take those knickers and pull them up tightly, thus offering no more protection than a thong. An enticing amount of bare flesh revealed for the headmaster to get to work. She stepped back, giving one last check to confirm Victoria’s underskirt and dress were not going to interfere with the clean hitting of the headmaster’s cane.
“Vicky was worried you were going to take down her knickers. At least you’re not doing that,” remarked Susan.
“Mum!” exclaimed Victoria rather disdainfully.
“We would never take away a student’s modesty,” asserted Maud.
David was lining up his cane for the first stroke when, with a croaky voice, Victoria asked, “How many, Sir?”
Concentrating on his first stroke, he did not hear the question and leaned forward, asking Victoria to repeat herself.
“How many are you going to give me, Sir?”
“You are going to receive the mandatory six strokes, but because you are a prefect I am awarding you two extra strokes.”
“No! I don’t want to be a prefect. Take my badge back,” exhorted the beleaguered girl, thinking that everything was conspiring against her.
“But you were a prefect when you committed the crime so you have to accept the prefect’s punishment. Besides, you are a good prefect and I don’t want to lose you as a prefect. It’s going to be hard, but by Monday morning this will be forgotten and we will be back to normal. Hold tight and look to the front. Show your mother how brave you are and hold that position.”
“Don’t hit my legs, will you, Sir?” asked Victoria, conscious of possible damage to the scarring.
“As long as you stay still,” replied the headmaster as he drew back the cane for delivery of the first stroke, taking notice of the frown and worried-looking demeanour of Susan.
David Cole launched the first stroke, aimed dead centre of that delightful, perky derrière. All hell let loose. The thwack reverberated around the room. Victoria shrieked. Susan sprung to her feet.
“David! What have you done?” as she rushed to Victoria, who in fairness held her position. Susan threw her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
“Susan. Please stand back. You must let me complete the punishment,” said David in a raised and authoritative voice.
“For the love of God, David. Show some mercy,” begged Susan.
Maud gently steered Susan back to the sofa. “It looks and sounds worse than it is,” she tried to reassure Susan. “The girls are able to take it, otherwise we wouldn’t do it.”
David was well pleased with his first effort. He landed the strike just where he intended and with some satisfaction observed the tell-tale white line rapidly turning to red. Not allowing his concentration to be affected by Susan’s outburst, he prepared for his second strike, which he delivered with similar ferocity to the first. Using the angry red line across the centre of Victoria’s bottom as his guide, he reckoned on placing three strokes either side of centre and to finish with a diagonal stroke catching his previous strokes. Very painful for Victoria, but deserved.
Victoria bravely stifled her cry of pain for the second stroke. The first stroke shocked her and caught her by surprise, but she tried to settle herself for the subsequent strokes. She was annoyed with her mother’s intervention who, after the initial shock, went very quiet. From her prone position, Victoria turned her head and tearfully looked at her mother, who smiled sympathetically. Victoria returned a weak smile before turning away.
As the headmaster proceeded with the punishment, he was impressed with Victoria’s handling of her painful ordeal. She was breathing heavily and he could hear her gasping as each shot struck home. As the time came for him to deliver the eighth and final stroke, he felt it would be appropriate to maximise his effort that would elicit a noisy response. Taking a step back, he observed his work so far. A very sore and angry red bottom with evenly spaced cane marks, and now for the diagonal slash that would cut cross the previous strokes. He had much affection for the girl but smoking, drinking and truancy warranted the harshest correction.
The drama unfolded. He adjusted his stance to deliver an angled stroke. He glanced briefly at Susan, who was close to tears, and then to Maud who knew what was coming and nodded her approval. The room was silent except for the sound of Vicky’s deep and laboured breathing. Showing his authority, he theatrically held the setting for a few seconds before energetically sliced his cane through the air and, with an expert flick of the wrist, accurately whipped a telling diagonal cut across Vicky’s buttocks. She was meant to suffer and the caning she had just received would make sure she would suffer over the next two or three days. She howled. After the shock of the first stroke, she had managed to take her punishment almost silently, but Cole’s eighth and final stroke produced a cry that satisfied him he had delivered a sound and effective chastisement.
The punishment was over and now attention to Vicky’s aftercare was uppermost in the headmaster’s thoughts. Maud was busily rearranging Vicky’s clothing and her mother was fussing with words of encouragement and an arm around the shoulder. Vicky was sobbing and in obvious distress, but his experience was the recipient of an eight stroke caning would recover after a couple of hours. Extreme soreness, then a steady road back to normality.
Vicky struggled to her feet, trying to maintain her balance and at the same time gently soothe her raw bottom. Maud was on hand with tissues and, after a couple of minutes, giving Vicky time to compose herself, asked her to follow her into her office to sign the punishment register. From there, Maud directed Vicky to the restroom.
“Take ten minutes to compose yourself and then return here and you can say goodbye to your mum and show her you are OK.”
Vicky hobbled away, sniffling rather than sobbing. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this level of pain, not even the injuries she had incurred on that mountainside four years ago.
Meanwhile, David Cole was rapidly trying to repair his relationship with Susan, who was visibly upset after witnessing her daughter’s ordeal.
“It had to be done, Susan. I trust you understand,” he explained.
“But quite so hard?” responded Susan.
“She needed to be made aware of the foolishness of her truancy. I doubt she will contemplate such bad behaviour again after such a hard caning. You’re not going to like hearing this, Susan, but it would be in Vicky’s best interests if you followed up by giving her a home spanking.
“What!” exclaimed a shocked Susan.
“Vicky is at a very important stage in her schooling. She needs to learn this, not only from the school, but also from her parents. Mock exams are not far away, and silly incidents like this lunchtime drinking could jeopardise her chances and throw away all the excellent work she has done.”
Susan shook her head, disbelievingly. She had very rarely spanked her daughter and never since the accident on the mountain.
David Cole continued. “I’m going to take you out to lunch and we will discuss Vicky’s future and get her set up for university.”
“But I was going to take Vicky to lunch and help her to get over this ordeal,” responded Susan.
“Certainly not. Vicky has already missed her physics lesson this morning. I will give her a pass to the library until lunchtime. She can have lunch in the school restaurant and attend her 2 o’clock maths lesson this afternoon.”
At this point, Vicky returned from the restroom and Maud took her in to the headmaster’s office to say goodbye to her mother.
Red-eyed, miserable and feeling sorry for herself, she felt even worse when her mother explained she would have to return to her maths lesson instead of being taken out for lunch. A big hug and words of encouragement and Vicky was sent on her way. It didn’t help her when, from the school library window overlooking the car park, she saw her mother getting into the headmaster’s sports car and heading off to God knows where.
“How did it go, sis?” asked Karen. “From the way you are standing at the kitchen table rather than sitting, I suspect Mum didn’t manage to get you off.”
“How very perceptive of you,” remarked an annoyed Vicky. She was still suffering and her temper had not been helped by watching her mother leave the school premises with the headmaster.
Susan turned into the drive, having enjoyed lunch and her time with David Cole, but now she was concerned. David had convinced her that Vicky would benefit from the school punishment being reinforced with a parental punishment, and she now had to break this news to Vicky. David suggested a good spanking would drive home the message. A two-minute session should be sufficient. A line could then be drawn under the incident and Vicky could get back to her studies.
“Hello, darling.” Susan greeted her daughter with a hug. “How are you?”
“Oh! I’m on top of the world. Having had my bottom whipped and then been abandoned by my mother, only to see her making off with the headmaster.”
“Sarcasm does not suit you, Vicky. I am really sorry you had to take such a hard caning, but you did bring it upon yourself. Both Mr Cole and myself have your interests at heart. Now I need you to go up to your bedroom and wait for me there.”
Vicky looked startled.
Not quite ready to inform Vicky that she was about to receive a spanking, Susan needed to say something that would get her up to her bedroom with the minimum of resistance. She pulled out a jar of cold cream from her shoulder bag and showed it to Vicky.
“I want to have a look at those horrible welts administered to your bottom and apply some cream.”
This placated Vicky. She was, at last, going to get some loving attention from her mum, or so she thought. Carefully removing her pinafore dress, shirt, suspender belt and school regulation knickers that, thanks to Maud Balfour’s rearrangement of her knickers, had provided zero protection, she lay face down on the bed with her very sore bottom on display.
Susan nervously entered Vicky’s bedroom and sat on the bed alongside her daughter. She really did not want to inflict a spanking on top of those angry welts.
“Vicky. I’m going to apply this cream, but first I’m going to spank you.”
She waited for Vicky’s reaction.
Much disbelief, anguish, wailing, pleading, anger and refusal to cooperate. No way was she going to agree to this further unfair assault on her bruised and inflamed bottom. Not only further pain, but the feeling of being let down by her mother who was usually so supportive. Vicky was now kneeling on the bed making sure her bottom was not exposed to her mother’s threatened punishment, but eventually her protests came to an end when she was threatened with a visit from her father to administer the punishment. She slumped into a position on her knees, offering her bottom for spanking, sobbing and face buried in her pillow.
“Of course, I don’t want to do this, but it’s my duty to teach you the lesson. It will take just a couple of minutes and then hugs and kisses,” mused a sorrowful Susan.
Observing the state of Vicky’s bottom, angry stripes merging to give an all over reddish, blotchy appearance, Susan realised it would be easy to add to her daughter’s pain without expending too much effort. And so it was. A firm but not excessive application of spanks had Vicky writhing, crying out, twisting and turning, but to be fair she maintained her position just as she did when receiving her caning. After rather less than two minutes, the spanking came to an end.
Susan hugged her whimpering daughter, just as she had many times over recent years.
“I’m proud of you, darling. Let’s make sure this never has to happen again.”
© Robert Roberts 2022