Parts One and Two of a series. Features being bullied at school, and meeting up with an old admirer.

by Frances Stephenson

with suggestions by Penny Morton

PART ONE: Emily is awarded the Yellow Belt (Originally written as ‘Emily is awarded the Yellow Sash’ but updated and altered)

Emily Trent had turned eighteen and was in the sixth form at St Ursula’s Girls School in Sussex. She was a pretty girl and becoming prettier by the day; 5 foot 3 with a small waist and well shaped, although slightly full, legs with an excellent and well shaped bottom; her bust was again well shaped.

Her face was pretty in a shy and hesitant manner. Her hair was ‘fair’ being midway between a soft brown and blonde. Her skin was a delight, soft and pale; it had that dewy quality which seemed to hold the promise of a warm and sensual girl emerging into young womanhood. Evidence of puppy fat in her body and face would gradually disappear and leave an attractive young woman.

She was neither a swot nor sporty, but partook in both activities with seeming enjoyment. Other girls liked Emily, with her ready smile and shy but helpful nature. She had many fiends but nobody ‘close’.

She caught the eye of Barbara Harding, a self-confident and bossy girl, dark haired and sharp-featured; she took no nonsense from any one and stood up for herself at every opportunity. She was a junior prefect Emily knew her slightly and rather admired her for her self confident ways. The two girls became friends, with Emily being almost keen to be directed by Barbara, who persuaded her into doing things she would have been too shy to attempt.

Barbara’s natural bossiness increased and Emily was happy to follow and be directed. ‘Do this Emily, or you will be spanked,’ Barbara used to say.

Emily used to shyly confess some of her mistakes to Barbara who one day announced that she was to have a spanking. She was made to bend over Barbara’s knee and receive six hard spanks across her knickers. This pattern of events was often repeated with Emily shyly submitting to Barbara’s regime without protest even although the spanking were becoming increasingly painful.

But somehow it became part of Emily’s routine until one day Emily was spanked over Barbara’s knee, as usual, but when the spanking was over Barbara then proceeded to gently stroke Emily’s wonderful bottom with ever more wandering fingers.

Emily struggled to her feet. “Thank you for my spanking, Barbara,” she said, noting how interested the other girl had become. “I must get back to my dorm before supper.”

Barbara seemed to be working from her own, darker, agenda and Emily did not risk being involved in a situation from which it would be increasingly difficult to extricate oneself. Shy and unworldly as she may seem, Emily was alive to the dangers that existed.

Emily had left Barbara in no doubt that she had been rejected and it put her in a vindictive rage. She really enjoyed spanking Emily’s bottom and if the truth were told fancied Emily with her shyness and beautiful soft body with its sensational bottom.

Barbara tried again the next day. “Hi,” she said and stroked Emily’s upper arm.

Emily flinched and pulled her arm back.

Barbara was livid. “I’ll make you sorry for that,” she rasped. “You see if I don’t!” She left fuming and then coldly started to apply her organisational skills into ensuring that dear little Emily was punished on a regular basis.

A week later there was a routine prefects’ search of some of the dormitories with the prefects looking for booze and cigarettes, or worse. They found a packet of unopened cigarettes hidden in the back of Emily’s locker.

She was immediately sent for by the Head Girl, Alex Sinclair, and cross-examined.

“But I don’t and never have smoked,” pleaded Emily, clearly distraught.

“There are a number of offences connected with cigarettes,” said Alex. “The packet was unopened so you had not smoked one out of this packet, at least, but it is strictly against School rules to have cigarettes in your possession. This is your first offence so you will receive a hard spanking. Smoking is a serious offence and can easily merit the cane. Go and change into your gym shorts and report back here, in double time. Nothing on under the shorts, mind!”

‘How had this happened?’ Thought Emily, changing into her gym shorts.

A hesitant Emily knocked on Alex’s door.

“Come in,” called Alex. “As I have said, Emily, you will receive a hard spanking with this gym shoe.” She started to whack a large thickly-soled gym shoe against her other hand in a menacing fashion. “Bend over the back of that chair and grab hold of the front legs. Tightly now. Push your bottom well out”

Her eyes gleamed as Emily’s bottom was pushed closer towards her, making the shorts strain.

“Eight strokes, here it comes.”

Bang! The first stroke took Emily’s breath away and made her bottom sting like fury. Seven to go. Crash, number two seemed harder and stung even more. Number three was on the right hand side and she let out a loud gasp, her hands momentarily losing her grip on the front legs.

“If you try and interfere with the spanking I will give you extra strokes,” warned Alex who had noted this slight loss of control. Emily was determined that this would not happen and gripped ever tighter.

She concentrated on keeping her bottom correctly presented and her breathing even.

Crash, Crash, Crash. The next three stokes left their painful imprint on her sore and sensitive bottom and made her cry out at each one. Number seven was a real stinger and made her cry out louder.

What had she heard about the last stroke being the hardest? Hopefully it was an urban myth, but No it was not!

The last stroke landed and made Emily shriek.

“Get up now,” said Alex, feasting her eyes on Emily’s bottom for the last time, for now. Emily was writhing and twisting in an effort to dissipate the sting that engulfed her whole bottom.

“OOOOOOOWOWOWOOOO,” she gasped.

“Remember to thank me,” said Alex.

“Thank you, Alex, for spanking me so well,” said a tearful Emily.

“Right you may go now and you know what to expect if you get into trouble again. Miss Pearson canes hard and I should avoid that punishment if you possibly can.”

“Yes, Alex. Thank you, Alex, and Goodnight,” said Emily, going off to change out of her gym shorts and quietly nursing her glowing bottom. She was walking a trifle stiffly, which was usual for a girl who had received punishment on her bottom.

The next day she found that her Maths homework had gone missing; she frantically searched for it but to no avail. This made her late for Mr Simpson’s class.

“See me after the lesson,” he said. “Now we will go over last night’s homework.”

“Please sir, said Emily. “I have mislaid mine which is why I was late, I spent ages looking for it.”

“Are you sure you did the work and not trying to prevaricate?” He said.

“Oh, yes, sir.” Emily said.

“Right,” said Mr Simpson. “Find it by the next lesson, which is first thing tomorrow, or I will slipper you in front of the class as a reminder to all who mislay their work.”

Emily was aghast; things had turned against her with a vengeance. Everything kept going wrong! She was slippered twice more over the next three days and then, horror of horrors, more cigarettes were found in her spare blazer pocket!

Alex was adamant that a visit to the Headmistress was necessary. Emily went off to Miss Pearson’s study where she was rigorously cross-examined as to how the cigarettes came to be in her pocket.

White and shaking, Emily could not offer any explanation.

“I am going to cane you,” said the formidable looking Miss Pearson. Privately she thought that it was a possibility the cigarettes had been planted by an enemy of the girl maybe jealous of her pretty good looks. There was, however, nothing she could do about it but accept the evidence and deal with the culprit when she surfaced. But she made a mental note to flag the possibility of bullying to one of the experienced prefects, probably Elizabeth Carstairs. But now Emily had to be dealt with.

“Bend over that chair back and lift your skirt; hold on tight and keep your bottom correctly presented to me until the caning has been completed. I am going to give you six strokes.”

Miss Pearson delivered six good firm strokes but by no means as hard as she would normally deliver; still they are enough to make Emily gasp and squeal throughout and scream when the sixth one landed.

Crying and rubbing her sore bottom, she left the Head’s study. Emily walked stiffly back to Alex’s study and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called Alex. Emily slowly came and stood to attention in front of her desk.

“How was that?” She smiled. “Is your bottom good and sore?”

“Yes Alex,” said Emily softly, tears welling up and spilling over. Her bottom was indeed sore, hot and throbbing where the cane had made sharp contact.

“I have some more unwelcome news for you. It has been decided that you are to be placed on Head Girl’s Report. This means that you will wear this yellow belt all the time, thus indicating to everyone that you have been naughty and are ‘under warning’. Prefects and Staff may freely report you for the slightest infringement. She passed over a two inch thick yellow belt. “You will see that there is a pouch attached; that is designed so that you can carry your punishment book with you. Staff and prefects can then easily write down your wrongdoings and Order Marks awarded. At six pm every day you will report to me wearing gym shorts with nothing on underneath and review your day, before me. Don’t leave anything out! It is important that you report to me, every day. I will warn you that it is unusual for any girl not to be frequently spanked when wearing the yellow belt. Miss Pearson allows me to administer up to twelve spanks per day to a ‘yellow belt’ although, usually, not all at once, instead of the usual limit of eight. Your very pretty bottom is going to really sting for a week, maybe more.”

Emily had turned very pale and was visibly trembling. She wondered how she would survive. She left Alex’s study and made sure that the dreaded yellow belt was correctly around her waist.

Elizabeth Carstairs stopped to talk to the distressed girl. She was a nice person and probable the best prefect as well as the most just.

“You, with the yellow belt,” shouted a prefect from another house. “Why are you dawdling?”

“Please, I have been talking to Elizabeth Carstairs,” said Emily.

“You were still dawdling,” said the prefect. “That’s an order mark.”

“But I said I was talking to Elizabeth Carstairs.”

“Extra order mark for arguing,” said the prefect. “Come here while I ‘write you up’. She made the two entries in Emily’s book. “Off you go now.”

Before long she saw Barbara. “So it is the yellow belt is it Emily?” She said smiling evilly. “You were running in the Quad.”

“No Barbara,” said Emily. “Not really, just hurrying.”

“One Order Mark for running and four for lying,” grinned Barbara. “You are going to have a sore botty this evening! Give me your book.” Having made the two entries she wandered off.

Emily changed into her games shorts, making sure that she was not wearing knickers, and reported to Alex’s study at six pm.

“Ah, Emily, how was your first yellow belt day?” Enquired Alex.

“Not great, Alex,” nervously whispered Emily.

“You seem to have collected a few Order Marks,” commented Alex after totalling the entries. “Some are duplicates so they only count as one but I see you have one which is more serious and requests four Order Marks for lying. That makes a total of eleven all told. I should try and do much better tomorrow if I were you.”

“Yes Alex,” she said quietly.

“You will run around the games field each day before breakfast until I tell you to stop, no slacking or cutting corners mind. You never know who will be watching! Now, let’s get you spanked. Eleven good hard whacks will be a useful reminder to you be extra efficient, well-behaved and obedient. Bend over the chair, further over and tighter, push your bottom towards me.”

Emily tried her best, aware that her bottom was straining the shorts whilst making a prominent target for the forthcoming slippering.

‘Crash’. The first blistering stroke arrived, stinging her bottom like mad. The spanking continued with Alex showing no sign of flagging and was clearly enjoying spanking Emily’s peerless bottom.

For her part, Emily’s distress was becoming louder with each spank. Gasps and moans had given way to squeals which became louder. At last the end was in sight. Emily actually screamed at the last two strokes landed but she had managed to stay bent with her bottom correctly presented for the hard spanking.

“That’s you good and spanked,” said Alex. “You may get up now.”

Emily gingerly prised herself away from the chair and gently rubbed her bottom. “Thank you Alex for my spanking,” she said.

“You may go now,” said Alex. “Don’t forget to wear the belt tomorrow and wear it whilst you have your early morning run around the games field. See you tomorrow at six pm.”

The next day saw Emily, rosy from her early morning run around the sports field. She hadn’t that long in which to find her Maths homework; if not it would be another spanking on her still tender bottom.

The morning progressed and still the Maths homework eluded her. What could she do? She went to see Mr Simpson, her Maths teacher.

“Honestly, sir, I have looked absolutely everywhere and cannot imagine where it can have got to. I really did the homework, sir. I am not lying.”

“Perhaps you are not, Emily, and I am inclined to believe you, but I said in front of the class that I would spank you if you could not find your homework. I see you have a yellow belt and so this spanking will be painful. Now bend over and raise your skirt. Emily’s white knickers were soon on display and she received four firm strokes, not as painful as those delivered by Alex, but quite painful enough! Mr Simpson made appropriate notes in her punishment book.

“I hope your day goes well and that you don’t have too many Order Marks to report this evening,” he said kindly. He liked Emily and was only too aware of the number of slipperings and canings that could be metered out.

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly.

Later she met Barbara. “How’s your bottom today?” She asked with a grin. “A bit sore, I expect. Looking forward to 6 pm? You are looking a bit dishevelled. “You’d better have an Order Mark for slovenly appearance!”

Emily was always neat and tidy and this criticism annoyed her. “I’m not dishevelled, Barbara,” she retorted tartly.

“And another Order Mark for arguing,” said Barbara. “Give me your book.”

Having made the entries, she walked off.

Emily was finding it increasingly uncomfortable to sit through lessons. Her bottom was tender, made more so by the slipperings delivered on her bottom that still bore the marks of Miss Pearson’s cane. She wriggled and squirmed in an effort to cope with the pain.

“Pay attention, Emily, and stop fidgeting,” ordered her Geography mistress. “Or I will award you an Order Mark.”

Emily received several sympathetic looks from her classmates, some of them having had to endure the hard classroom seats with a painful bottom.

After lunch, she was hurrying to an important history test when she passed a group of 5th formers laughing as they washed the Head’s car. Somehow Emily managed to get soaked as she walked past, which created another wave of mirth from the irresponsible girls. There was nothing for it but to rush back to her Dorm and hastily change before making her way to the History test. She arrived to a black look from ‘Fanny’ Fanshawe, the history teacher.

“You’re late, Emily,” she rasped. “Sit down and do what you can, and see me after the test.”

The Test was fine and Emily was able to answer most of the questions. She went to see Miss Fanshawe afterwards.

“Emily, you might have made more of an effort to be on time, you know. This is an important test.”

Emily started to explain.

“Yes, Yes,” said Miss Fanshawe. “I am sure you have a set of brilliant reasons, but the fact is that you were late. I see you are wearing the yellow belt. Hand me your book; she made an entry and informed Emily that she had been awarded 4 Order Marks. Try and be on time for the next test!”

The afternoon slid by and thankfully Emily did not pick up any more OMs.

Six pm arrived and she was inside Alex’s study. “You seem to have accumulated 6 OMs.” Alex said. “You really must do better or things could get nastier. Like your Yellow belt period being extended!”

“Oh no, please, Alex,” pleaded Emily, instinctively feeling her vulnerable bottom in the thin games shorts.

“I see you haven’t been caned since your Yellow Sash,” said Alex. “I think we will make a start on that this evening. I work a system whereby one stroke of the cane equals two Order Marks. You have six OMs; therefore I propose to award you two more OMs which, of course, equates to four strokes of the cane. Bend over the chair and let’s get on with it.”

Emily quickly bent over the chair, her head well down as she strove to make her bottom more prominent. Alex picked up one of her darker yellow canes, quite firm but with plenty of give in it. ‘I’ll make her squeal,’ thought Alex.

The cane whickered down for the first stroke, which landed near Emily’s overhang, it obviously hurt as Emily let out a gasping cry followed by a whimper. Number two was lower still near the crease and really made Emily squeal. The third, up just under the crown of her bottom, brought another sharp squeal. Emily struggled with the pain; Alex was really laying it on. The fourth and last stroke was by far the hardest yet.

“OWOWOWOOOOO!” cried Emily, in great pain.

Alex gave her permission to get up, which she did slowly and painfully and gently cradled her hot and sore bottom.

“Thank you, Alex,” she whispered, before she was dismissed.

The hard and repeated spankings and two canings had certainly had their effect on Emily’s bottom, which was very tender indeed. Sitting through lessons was very uncomfortable. Alex had kept her caning low on Emily’s bottom so as to maximise this discomfort. Emily constantly shifted her bottom during classes, the hard seats being an additional penance. Her discomfort was noticeable and several of her classmates came forward with expressions of sympathy and encouragement. This was an unlooked for comfort for Emily who felt she was in the middle of a nightmare.

Emily saw Barbara. “How is your bottom?” Asked Barbara. “Nicely striped, I hear, and uncomfortable sitting down, I bet. Still, if you possess a stunning bottom like yours you must expect it to be punished with some regularity. The punishments will go on and on, you know. Sooner or later, you will come crawling back to me and ask to join my little punishment regime. In the meantime have another Order Mark for loitering and another for gossiping.”

She made the entries in Emily’s book and went on her way.

Emily had thought that Barbara was somehow responsible for her run of bad luck and for the regular punishments that her poor bottom had been subject. Did it all stem from her rejection of Barbara? Could she be that vindictive?

‘Yes, she could,’ thought Emily, remembering Barbara’s cruel smile.

Unbeknown to Emily, Elizabeth Carstairs was hot on the case. She was aware of a tension between Emily and Barbara and thought she could guess the reason. It now remained to get some evidence together.

The prefects ‘grapevine’ had indicated that another “Cigarettes and Alcohol” search was going to take place on Tuesday. Elizabeth reasoned that something incriminating could well be planted in Emily’s bedside locker before the usual 5pm raid. Elizabeth thought that the most likely time would be between 2 and 3.30. Many would be playing games and Emily was down for Netball.

Working on this theory, Elizabeth positioned herself in Emily’s dormitory, hiding herself in in one of the large wardrobes just opposite Emily’s bed, the door slightly ajar ,and settled down to wait. She had a good camera and checked that everything was primed.

Sure enough, after about 20 minutes, two whispering fifth formers arrived and went straight to Emily’s locker. One of them took a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and opened the bedside locker drawer. She was just about to put them in the drawer when Elizabeth took a photo. Both girls jumped at the suddenness of the flash.

Elizabeth called out to them to remain where they were and kept taking photos. The two girls were obviously scared out of their wits.

“Come with me,” said Elizabeth, sternly leading the way to her study. She left them standing in front of her desk and questioned them.

“Now, Dawn Menton and Andrea Lewis, you are in serious trouble, and I mean serious! You have been photographed planting cigarettes in another girl’s locker. Now tell me what has Emily Trent done to you.”

“Nothing, Elizabeth,” faltered the two nervous girls.

“A prefect made us do it,” said Dawn.

“She said that she would arrange it that we would be slippered every day if we did not do as she said, and we believed her,” added Andrea.

“Who was the prefect?” Asked Elizabeth, but they would not say.

“Come with me,” said Elizabeth. “Quickly now!”

They arrived at Miss Pearson’s study.

Telling the girls to wait in the outer office, Elizabeth knocked and went in to see Miss Pearson. She clearly and concisely explained what had happened, suggesting that the two fifth formers should be cross-examined by the Head.

The two white faced girls were soon facing the formidable Miss Pearson, and it wasn’t long before the name of Barbara Harding came out.

“Sign this document confirming what you have just told me,” said the Head. “I will now cane the pair of you, six strokes each. That’s for being in possession of cigarettes. I am going to put the pair of you on Head Girl’s Report and if you don’t know all about that, Alex Sinclair will enlighten you when you report to her at 6pm.”

With that, she caned the pair of them on their knickers and hard enough to make them squeal and scream.

“Very well done indeed, Elizabeth,” said the Head. “You have pursued this matter with fearlessness and dedication. I am really most impressed. Please would you ‘download’ the photographs on to my computer and then ask Barbara Harding to come and see me immediately.”

Twenty minutes later, a white-faced Barbara was standing in front of the Head and receiving a monumental dressing down, of which ‘planting evidence’, ‘bullying’ and ‘making a girl’s life a misery’ formed the mainstay.

The Head had already requested the presence of the two games mistresses and they were called in.

“I am going to severely thrash Barbara Harding,” announced the Head. “I will need your services to ensure she remains in place until the punishment is completed. Barbara, take off your skirt and your knickers and bend over that chair. You are going to have twelve hard strokes.”

Barbara bent over the chair and one of the games mistresses held her by her shoulders to ensure that she remained bent over for the entire punishment. The other games mistress stood by to help restrain the girl, if required.

Miss Pearson said she would deliver 12 hard strokes and this she proceeded to do with energy and enthusiasm. Barbara’s screams were be heard by the entire school who wondered who could be ‘catching it’ and what she could have done to merit such a severe thrashing.

When it was over, the two games mistresses escorted Barbara to the Sanitorium and left her in charge of Matron.

In the meantime, Emily, escorted by Elizabeth, was in the Head’s study. “I’m really more sorry than I can say, Emily,” said Miss Pearson. “You have been subjected to a catalogue of bullying the like of which I have seldom, if ever, seen. Barbara Harding will never bother you again. I have severely thrashed her and she will be expelled forthwith. I am only waiting for a telephone call from her father to complete this. You have Elizabeth Carstairs to thank for tracking down your tormentor; she did a superb job.”

The girls left the study and Emily felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

PART TWO: Emily at home.

The time had come for Emily to leave St Ursula’s and she reflected on the supposed ‘Happiest Days of your Life’ with some mixed feelings; full of incident at the time, but pretty boring when one thought about them.

The sharp memories of her numerous punishments still left her feeling a bit raw and her Yellow Belt incident would stay in her memory for many a long day, but these memories were more than balanced by the friendships she had made.

Although intelligent, she lacked the will to try for a University place. ‘Get a job,’ she thought. ‘Secretarial, librarian or some such. Get married, have a family and settle down to an ordinary but satisfying middle class life.’

Her thoughts were interrupted by the news that her parents had arrived to pick her up. Both were still aggrieved and felt let down by Barbara’s bullying and that this had happened whilst she was under the care of the school.

She, again, tried to set their minds at ease on this score, saying that she had nothing but praise for the way the affair had been handled by the Headmistress. Both were curious and wanted to hear all the gory details, but other than to say she had been subjected to many hard spankings and some hard canings she did not want to elaborate further.

Emily’s mother went on to say that she had formed a friendship with a Celia Armstrong and that they were both pleased with each other.

“She has a son, James, who is 21. I have met him and he seems a nice enough boy, quite good looking but slightly bossy. He is mid-way through his training to become a solicitor.”

‘It can’t be,’ thought Emily. ‘Could this be the same James whom she met at a party and enjoyed a highly satisfying snog?’ She had liked James in spite of his slightly patronising and strict personality.

Her mother went on. “I have invited them both over for dinner tomorrow night,” she said. “I do hope you get on well with James. He seems a nice young man who is an only child and his father died a couple of years ago.”

‘Hmm,’ thought Emily, but resolved to give the dinner party as much of a go as she could. ‘How splendid if it turned out to be her James.’

It was, indeed, ‘Her James’. She was quite nervous before the dinner but James was pleasant and charming, and his elegant mother kept the conversation flowing. Even her own mother had seemed relaxed, pouring Emily a glass of wine. After dinner Emily showed James the garden and, as soon as they were out of sight of the house, James drew Emily to him and gave her a long a passionate kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all evening,” he said.

“And I’ve been wanting you to do it,” gasped Emily.

“Let me look at you, you have certainly turned into a very attractive young lady,” said James.

It was true. There was nothing wrong with her shapely and elegant legs. A slim waist flared out to splendid hips and then, of course, her truly stunning bottom; not small and sculpted and not too full but indicating the twin delight of softness and warmth. Further up her breasts had developed well, again they would not be too large and not perky. Yes the whole package presented a warm and sensual young woman, pretty in a reserved and slightly nervous way. Yes she pressed most of his buttons.

He drew her to him once again and planted a gentle kiss on her sensitive lips and then nuzzled her hair. She just about came up to his chin, even with high heels on. Yes, he would definitely ask her out again.

The relationship blossomed, much to the couple’s delight. Emily’s parents and James’s mother were seemingly well pleased with developments.

In the ensuing months, there was only one incident that threatened the courtship. Emily and James had joined some friends at a wine bar for a social

Evening. Emily, not being that used to alcohol, had too much to drink and became loud and raucous, shrieking with laughter. James said it was time to go home. Emily dissolved into giggles and announced that she was having too good a time. Two or three glasses later it became obvious that she had had more than enough and James ushered her out and into his car. Twenty five minutes later they arrived at Emily’s large and comfortable home. Emily had sobered up somewhat, enough to realise that the drive home had been in silence.

“Hello, Mrs Trent,” said James, whilst helping Emily through the door. “Nothing serious, it is just that Emily lost control of herself and had a bit too much to drink, nothing that a good nights sleep won’t cure.”

“Thank you, James. What a silly girl! I am glad someone as understanding as you was around to look after her. She knows how I feel about drinking, the odd glass or so is fine but it can so quickly get out of hand, Please give her to me and I will put her to bed.”

“Please would you mind if I waited until you have finished and come downstairs?” Said James. “There is something I would like to talk to you about.”

“Yes, certainly James,” said Julia Trent. “It shouldn’t take me long.”

“Could I make a cup of tea?” Said James, who was becoming very familiar with the Trent household.

“Yes, of course,” said Julia. “See you soon; pour mine out, will you? Milk, no sugar.”

Fifteen minutes later she arrived in her kitchen and sat downstairs.

“Emily has settled down and should be asleep very soon. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I would like to have your permission to give Emily a really sound spanking. I am becoming increasingly fond of her but I will not accept the sort of behaviour I had to put up with tonight and the sooner she realises this the better.”

Julia had been considering spanking Emily herself but saw no reason why this somewhat masterful young man should not undertake this duty, and she did see it as a duty.

“I see no reason why not,” said Julia. “But I would like you to do it in my presence. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Yes, of course, Mrs Trent,” said James. “I thought I would come around after breakfast, say about 10.00 to 10.30 and spank her then.”

“That sounds good to me; get it over with nice and early,” commented Julia.

“I had arranged to take Emily out to dinner in the evening, but I am sure her bottom will be much less sore by the time eight pm comes around. If not, a good red bottom might give her an appetite!” Chuckled James.

“How do you intend punishing her?” Asked Julia.

“She will either take her dress or jeans off and bend over my lap for a good hard spanking on her knickers. I have not decided as to how many strokes I shall give her but I want it to be one she will long remember. As I have said, I would be pleased if you would be present.”

Emily awoke at around eight and did not feel any the worse for her excesses of the night before. She was aware that she had irritated James and made up her mind to be especially nice to him this evening, and to give him a pretty and appealing apology. This course of action settled in her mind, she had a shower, dressed in jeans and a casual top, and made her way to the kitchen. She had not eaten last night and was hungry.

“Good morning Emily,” said her mother. “Ready for breakfast?”

“Mmm! Thank you, mummy, and good morning. I am sorry that I was so tired last night, I don’t think I said ‘goodnight’ to you or to James. Bacon eggs and toast and plenty of coffee, just what I fancy.”

“You don’t remember saying ‘goodnight’ to me or James because you were drunk, young lady! I had to put you to bed.”

“I am so very sorry, mummy,” said a repentant Emily, hoping to avoid any retribution for her behaviour of the night before.

“Here’s your breakfast and your mug of coffee,” said her mother, glancing at the clock. Nine forty, probably half an hour before James arrived. She was, she realised, quite excited at the prospect of watching her daughter being spanked by James. Her match-making genes had been working overtime for the last few months and she was enthusiastic about James as a husband for her only daughter.

“Thank you, mum, that was delicious.” Emily enthused, clearly being over-pleasant in an attempt to sweet-talk her mother out of her uncharacteristic bad mood and to placate her.

“How did James seem last night?” Asked Emily. “I didn’t have the chance to talk to him much, but I will make up for it this evening as he is taking me out to dinner.”

“I spoke to him for some time last night, after I had put you to bed,” retorted her Mother. “He was less than impressed with your behaviour and very nicely asked me if he might give you a hard spanking as retribution for being drunk. I enthusiastically agreed as it is just what you deserve and will, I hope, teach not to play fast and loose with a man of James’s calibre. He seems very fond of you.”

Emily was aghast. ‘Oh no!’ She thought, her lips trembling and her face suddenly pale. She tried to moisten her dry lips and took a final gulp of coffee to help her through.

“Here’s James now,” said her mother, waving to James as he came around to the back door. “Here we are!”

James came into the kitchen. “Good morning, Mrs Trent, and Good morning, Emily,” he said.

“Coffee, James?” Asked Julia.

“No, thank you. I think I would rather get on with the business in hand. Emily, do you understand why I am here?”

“Yes, James,” said Emily in a nervous voice and with tears gathering in her eyes. “I am really so sorry for my behaviour last night. It will not happen again.”

“It will, of course,” said James. “But it is important for you to understand that if you overstep the mark there is always a price to pay. I have your mother’s permission to give you a good and hard spanking and you should be aware that it will be a memorable one.

“Lets get started,” said James he looked around and found that Julia had placed a suitable chair for him. He sat down. “Come over here, Emily,” he barked. “Stand to my right and take those jeans right off.”

Emily was almost overcome that events were moving so rapidly towards a painful climax. She removed her jeans, pulling them down to expose her creamy and shapely legs. She was wearing thin brief blue knickers which inadequately covered her luscious bottom. Her top came down to her waist, leaving her feeling vulnerable with only her brief knickers to protect her modesty.

“Over my lap,” ordered James. He then adjusted Emily’s position until she was comfortably positioned over his lap with his warm right hand resting on her blue knickers.

“Here it comes,” he warned.

Crash, the first hard spank connected with her overhang and top of the thighs, leaving a sore-looking visiting card. The second whacked in higher up but overlapping again, leaving the area nice and red. The third, again overlapping, moved up, by which time Emily had started to make some noises; not squeals but close enough. The fourth was near the top of her magnificent bottom, again overlapping.

He paused to admire his handiwork thus far. Emily’s right cheek was starting to glow and looked really sore in places.

He repeated the punishment in administering the same pattern of four hard strokes to the left cheek.

‘All well and good, time to start again,’ he thought.

He restarted the spanking with energy and application, and Emily was now increasingly vocal in letting him know how much the repeated impact of his hand was having on her general well being!

James took no notice whatsoever. A hard spanking had been promised and a hard spanking was being delivered! Another four to the right and four to the left were delivered by a hard and unfeeling hand.

By this time, Emily was becoming more and more vocal, gasping and squealing. Her bottom seemed to be becoming redder by the second.

‘Hmm,’ thought James. ‘A good spanking but not yet a memorable one,’ and proceeded to set to with a will. Thirty two hard spanks had been delivered and Emily’s bottom was indeed a glowing red.

Emily was now very vocal. “Noooo,” and “Pleassseee,” punctuated the squeals of pain.

Another four to the right and four to the left were all delivered with energy and enthusiasm. Emily was, by now, howling and her superb bottom red-looking and sore-looking. Her blue knickers were riding up and disappearing into her cleft, leaving all the more luscious flesh for James to spank.

A total of fifty hard strokes had been delivered and poor Emily’s bottom looked red and sore, no doubt some bruising would show later.

“That’s you spanked!” James said to Emily as she gingerly slid off his lap. “I hope you won’t forget that in a hurry.”

“No, James, indeed I won’t,” whispered a tearful Emily. “My poor bottom feels as though it is on fire.”

She gathered up her jeans, not wanting to try and squeeze her swollen bottom in them before making good her exit.

“I will pick you up at 7.30,”called James. “Please wear that blue dress that suits you so well. “Thank you, Mrs Trent. I think that passed of well, don’t you?”

“Er yes, I suppose so,” said Julia, who had thought the spanking had been too severe; but there again, Emily had taken it well. It seemed those years at St Ursula’s had not been wasted!

She also thought she would have to think about future punishments for her daughter, a hand spanking from her would clearly be woefully inadequate! She might speak to James who seemed well up to speed in these matters! She had a heavy clothes brush which would do until something suitable could be sorted out.

Privately, Julia wondered whether Emily would feel up to dining out; surely her bottom would still be dreadfully sore. However, James clearly expected that she would be up to it.

She need not have worried. At 7.15 her daughter joined her in the drawing room, freshly showered with her hair done and make up in place. She looked remarkably pretty. True she was walking a bit stiffly but that was only to be expected! There was a slight flush in her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling like stars. She was wearing the blue dress requested by James with navy blue stockings. She looked stunning.

“Do sit down, darling,” said her mother.

”I would really rather not,” said Emily. “Things are still very tender in that region. I will have to remember every time I sit down tonight or I might inadvertently cry out!”

“Is your bottom very sore, darling?” Asked her mother.

“Yes, it is,” replied Emily. “It will be a day or so before I am back to normal. That was a hard spanking James gave me.”

“Here he is now,” said Julia. “I might see you later; have fun.”

At the small and exclusive restaurant, James enquired after Emily’s bottom.

“Red and very sore,” responded Emily tartly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me young lady,” rasped James. “And while we are about it, make me a proper apology for your behaviour and thank me for your good hiding.”

A very nervous and contrite Emily instantly responded: “I am so very sorry, James,” whispered Emily. “For my behaviour last night, and thank you for the excellent spanking you gave me this morning. Although hard, it was well deserved, thank you!”

This interchange out of the way, the evening progressed and they both enjoyed themselves. Emily was a bit stiff and sore to do justice to the dance music, but she enjoyed clinging to James. His previous role as strict disciplinarian had seemingly been forgotten.

On the way home, they stopped for a kiss and a cuddle and Emily responded to his advances with some enthusiasm.

For James’s part, he was pleased to note that Emily was indeed wearing navy blue stockings in spite of the fact that the suspenders must have made her bottom even more uncomfortable. She obviously wanted to please him!

The End

© Frances Stephenson 2013