Auntie Clare

A girl staying with her friend has a decision to make.

By Fenton Creek

This story is based on a letter published in ‘Men Only’ magazine in the 1970s about a girl and her friend who were punished by her friend’s father in front of the rest of the family. Here is an all-female version.

It was the start of the summer holidays and I had gone to stay with my friend Janice. Janice has no parents and lives with her sister Carol and their Auntie Clare. Auntie used to be married to Janice’s late mother’s brother. She also happens to be a friend of my Mum.

I found Auntie Clare to be quite nice, very polite, obviously clever and a great cook, but also a little bit scary.

I had been there for a few days when Auntie announced that she was going out for the afternoon and would not be due back until late. She left us to cook our own supper.

The evening was a bit of a blur. Before we started cooking, Janice poured two glasses of red wine. I don’t normally drink and after a second glass I was feeling quite giggly. Janice produced a bottle of vodka and mixed some into my third glass. What started as an omelette turned into an egg-fight with shells and yoke all over the kitchen. My last recollection was Auntie coming home with a gentleman friend, Janice giggling and calling out: “Auntie! You’ve pulled!” And me staggering out into the garden to be sick.

Carol woke us at six o’clock next morning and told us we had to clean up the kitchen. Bleary eyed, we got up and spent forty-five minutes sorting out the mess.

At the breakfast table I tried not to look Auntie in the eye. It was evident we were in trouble but she carried on as usual. When, however, we had finished eating, she dismissed Carol and said she wanted to talk to us.

“Last night you got drunk on my wine and heaven knows what else. The kitchen was left in a mess; one of you insulted my guest, the other threw up over my tomato plants. Your behaviour last night was inexcusable.

“Michelle, you are a guest in this house. You can either have the same punishment as Janice, in which case we shall speak no more about it, or I will tell your parents about your behaviour and then send you home in disgrace. I will give you an hour to think about it.”

After we had washed up, I asked Janice what the punishment might be. She said that Auntie sometimes spanked or caned her with her pants down. The thought made me feel sick and excited all at once.

If I got sent home then I’d be grounded for the rest of the holidays. I decided to take my chances with Auntie. Later that morning Carol came and told us that Auntie wanted to see us and ushered us into the living room. I told Auntie that I would take the punishment.

“You will each get twelve strokes of the cane. I was embarrassed and, to be honest, humiliated by your behaviour last night. Your punishment should reflect this. You will take your canings in the nude.”

For a moment, as I heard this, I felt a little bit woozy, then Auntie Clare was ushering us out of the room. Janice was evidently nervous and told me that she’d never had twelve strokes before, let alone been punished completely naked.

At four o’clock sharp we came down to the living room. To my dismay, Carol was there as well. Auntie was sitting on one of the dining chairs in the middle of the room.

“You two, go back to your room and come back in just your bras and pants. Carol, would you please draw the curtains and make sure the front and back doors are locked?”

We went to our rooms and came back and stood awkwardly in just our underwear.

“Janice, you first.”

Janice went and stood in front of Auntie.

“Take your bra off and give it to Carol.”

After Janice had complied, Auntie laid her across her lap, pulled her knickers down and started to spank her, alternating slaps on her left and right buttocks. At first Janice took each slap with no more than a whimper, but after half a dozen she started to cry out. By the tenth slap she was wriggling and pleading. Auntie gave her two more slaps.

“Get up, stand beside Michelle, hands on your head.”

Janice came and stood beside me, her knickers still pulled down.

“Now you Michelle, over here please. Give your bra to Carol.”

Now it was my turn. I was so nervous that I couldn’t get my bra undone and Carol had to come and do it for me. My lip was trembling and I felt I was about to cry. Auntie Clare took me by the arm and gently pulled me over her lap. When I felt her fingers in the waistband of my knickers then I realised that this was it; I was going to get spanked. She pulled my knickers halfway down my thighs then quickly gave me two slaps, one on each buttock. At this point I couldn’t control myself any more and burst into tears, though possibly more from the shame than the pain. I don’t suppose the dozen slaps I received took more than half a minute but I sobbed and shrieked through what seemed to be an eternity.

“Get up, stand beside Janice with your hands on your head.”

Obediently I got up and stood beside Janice, both of us with our knickers halfway down our thighs and feeling very exposed.

At this point Auntie looked at us sternly and I thought we were just going to get a good telling off and then it would be over.

“Janice, take your pants right off and give them to Carol. Then go to my study and get the cane.”

Janice stepped out of her knickers and handed them to Carol.

As she walked out of the door I could see that her bottom was pink and realised that mine was probably just the same. I felt even more vulnerable while she was gone and I was the only one naked in the room. My arms were starting to hurt; I was trembling and I felt my knickers starting to slip down my thighs.

Janice came back and handed a long thin cane to Auntie.

“Michelle, you can put your hands down.” Relieved, I let my hands fall to my sides but at that point my knickers fell down to my ankles making me feel even more ridiculous.

Auntie stood up. “Janice, you know what to do.”

Janice walked across to the chair and placed her hands on the seat, one on top of each other. She then bent over and rested her forehead on top of her hands with her bottom sticking up in the air.

Auntie lifted the cane, touched it briefly against Janice’s bottom, then swung her arm and delivered the first stroke. The sounds seemed to come in slow motion, the swish of the cane, the crack against naked buttocks and a yelp from Janice. A second stroke, then a third. Her yelps got louder. At the seventh she leapt up with a scream and started rubbing her bottom. Auntie tapped the cane on her shoulders and she bent down over the seat again. I could see her body quivering and hear her muffled sobs.

The next stroke invoked another shriek. Auntie waited for half a minute as the sobs died down into sniffles. She then delivered four rapid strokes, not on Janice’s bottom, but across the back of her thighs, each so quick that Janice barely managed to draw breath between shrieks of pain.

“Janice, you may stand up now.”

Janice stood up and turned around. Her eyes were swollen and her face was flushed and as red as her bottom.

“Michelle, your turn now. Give your pants to Carol.”

Obediently I stepped out of my knickers, handed them to Carol then walked across to the chair. Like Carol, I put my hands on the seat cushion and rested my forehead on top of them. Even though my legs were together, my bottom was sticking up and out and I felt very exposed.

The first stroke came as a complete shock. I heard a tiny swish then the cane seemed to bounce off my buttocks. I leaped up rubbing my bottom.

“Down!” Commanded Auntie.

At the second stroke I yelped and stood up again. This time Auntie made Carol stand on the other side of the chair and hold my shoulders down.

The third stroke took my breath away. I was trying not to cry out and found myself panting.

“Calm down, take a deep breath.”

I shut my eyes, took a breath. The fourth stroke seemed to land on top of the last one and I let out a loud: “Ooowwww!”

After two more strokes, I couldn’t stand any more. “Can we stop, just for a minute, please Auntie?”

“Stay where you are, almost done.”

Another stroke, my knees seemed to give way. I desperately wanted to rub my bottom, for it all to stop.

After the eighth I couldn’t take any more. I stood up and turned to face Auntie. “No more please, Auntie Clare! I’ve learnt my lesson.”

Auntie frowned for a second, then turned to Carol. “We’ll give Michelle a little break. Tell me when sixty seconds are up.”

We waited in silence, a curious tableau. Auntie standing with her cane in hand, Carol sat focussed on her wrist watch, Janice and I red faced, tearful and naked.

Carol then nodded to Auntie Clare who gestured to the chair and I bent over again to get my last few strokes.

“I caned Janice on her legs but you will have your last four strokes on your bottom. That way there won’t be any visible marks.”

My bottom was still hurting from the earlier punishment and seemed to have got more tender during my minute’s respite. I wondered if it might have been better to ask for the rest of my punishment on my thighs and wear trousers for a few days. Auntie, however, was probably not in the mood for negotiation.

The ninth stroke seemed worse than the earlier ones and I yelled so loud that I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t hear.

The last three came such in quick succession that I could hardly gather my breath. Auntie stepped back and said: “That’s it, over now.”

I sank to my knees and sobbed into my hands.

“Help her up,” said Auntie, and Janice and Carol raised me to my feet.

”One more thing, Michelle.”

I turned wearily to face her while she continued. “I shall keep to my promise and not mention this to your parents, nor indeed to you or anybody else again. Despite all this, you are still welcome in my home. I just ask that it be respected. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“Carol will give you some cream for your bottom. Get dressed. Tea is at five o’clock as usual.”

I nodded assent and Janice and Carol gently led me out of the room.

The End

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