After the events in ‘The Chloe Lewis Awakening’
I was enjoying my first year of university even if it meant being more grown up, which isn’t an easy thing for me to do. But most of all I was enjoying my first year in a new discipline relationship with our neighbour and family friend, Mrs Hurst, my wonderful adopted disciplinarian Grandmother. Now, as Mrs Hurst will tell you, I’m not the world’s naughtiest girl but I do have a few naughty habits. These, in the words of my Grandmother, tend to get me ‘a good old-fashioned bare bottom spanking’.
It was a lovely spring Friday afternoon and I was looking forward to spending the evening with my Grandmother when I turned on to our street to see an ambulance parked up outside our house. I rushed home in a panic to see Mum standing chatting to the paramedic and Mrs Hurst being wheeled into the back. My Mother explained that Mrs Hurst had fallen and might have broken her hip. I was devastated and my whole world was rocked.
That weekend seemed to last for an eternity and dragged on to the following week, when I got the shocking news that Grandmother was to move down south to her daughter’s house in Bristol while she recovered. I managed to see her before she was discharged and travelled down to her daughter’s house. She told me to keep my chin up and keep my naughty dairy and it won’t be long before I’m back over her knee bare bottom up and feeling her hand again. This made me smile and made the butterflies dance in my tummy.
That few weeks passed into months as Grandmother had settled into her new life down in Bristol. We stayed in touch with emails and made plans for me to visit later that summer when her daughter’s family was on holiday, but I had this vast hole now that needed to be filled with regular maternal discipline.
By late June, I had made my mind up and was ready to find someone to fill that hole. I talked to Grandmother first before doing anything and she totally approved of the idea and fully supported me. With Grandmother’s backing, I joined a website I found and posted a profile for myself and sat back and waited. This did not go according to how I thought it would. After a few idiots and crazy replies, I received one from a kind woman in her early 40s, the same age as my Mother. A kind but firm Auntie looking for a niece. That was me, I thought!
We chatted for a few weeks before we set a date to meet. She was aware of my Grandmother and my naughty diary and I had to bring that when I went to meet her. This was going to be a non-ouchie meeting, but the best laid plans sometimes change. We seemed to click right away and over coffee, or in my case hot chocolate, and both felt it was right to address some of the issues I had in my dairy. But first, we phoned Grandmother, who gave her blessing for Auntie Jean to take over as my regular disciplinarian.
Auntie Jean was in her early 40s and was a very strict woman. I could tell that from the way she wrote to me in our messages, but way more when I saw and talked to her in person. But with that sternness came a kind caring side, who always made it clear why she was smacking ‘your naughty bare bottom’, as she put it. Jean lived in the historical city of York and this would be the first time I was to leave Scotland and travel south on my own. I would soon get used to this and the City of York. For our first get-together we were to meet in the railways station hotel. This went well, as I said, and we were soon in a taxi heading back to her house.
Once in her house, I was shown to the living room and asked to take out my naughty dairy and we would discuss some of the entries in it. I’m mostly very well behaved and just let myself down with silly things like not going to bed on time or forgetting my medicines and losing my phone or my keys in the house. And these were the things she wished to discuss. We went through each entry and talked about each one. While we chatted, Auntie kept her stern, but loving, attitude as she scolded and discussed in the same breath.
My tummy squirmed and danced as we went through each issue in great detail. These were me missing my bedtime twice and one of them staying on my phone way past my bedtime, when all phones and laptops must be away. I had to explain why I thought it was a good idea to do this. Another big one was me not keeping my phone on me and my Mum ringing me for thirty minutes trying to get hold of me, to ask me to find something out, but instead causing her to panic about me for not answering. And the final big one was when I lost the house keys in public on my way back from university. This had cost Mum a lot of money for a locksmith to fit new locks. By time we spent a good forty minutes going into full detail of each major entry I was just about in tears and felt awful for my actions even before anything had happened to me.
Auntie stood up and smoothed out her skirt before walking to her dining table and taking one of the oval-backed wooden chairs from the table and carrying it to the sofa, before placing it down.
“Right, little lady, do you have a hairbrush on you?”
I looked at her and nodded, opening my backpack. She took her place on the chair and I took my hot pink tangle-tamer hairbrush out of my backpack and handed it to Auntie. After a few moments of looking and tapping the long, hard, flat pink plastic in her hand she smiled and nodded.
“This will do very nicely.”
She placed it on the floor to her left-hand side, the side I would be looking at once I went over her knee.
“Right, no more dragging our feet, little lady. Up you get.”
I stood up and sorted out my dress as I did, adjusting my tights too.
“No need for that, my dear. They won’t be staying up for much longer, little miss!”
I just chewed my lip as I heard those words hit my ears, but before I could dwell on it Auntie was already asking another question.
“Chloe Lewis, you know why you are here?”
“Yes, Auntie,” I said, looking down at my feet and playing with the hem of my black denim pinafore dress. I felt her hands take hold of the straps on my dress and pop open the press studs. She helped me out of it, leaving me in my long, striped T-shirt and my black 60 denier tights and my little ‘Hello Kitty’ knickers.
As my hands went to the top of my head without being told to, I watched her fold my dress up and place it on the floor next to the hairbrush. I was totally aware of what was happening and this hole, which I’d longed to be filled, would soon be filled with those wonderful feelings. Those feelings I had long missed of safety and happiness came flooding back as I felt her fingers slip into the waistband of my tights and knickers. With one fluid motion she pulled them down together around my knees. I glanced down and saw the white gusset of my knickers showing over the top of my black tights.
“You have been a very naughty little girl, Chloe. This will not do at all, young lady.”
I kept looking down and answered her.
“Yes, Auntie. I am sorry.”
“And what happens to naughty girls, Chloe?”
I gulped before I whispered the answer to her.
“We get punished, Auntie.”
My whole body jumped as she raised her voice, not to a shout but with control that told me not to take this lightly, and I was not about to get off this with just a pink bottom.
“Sorry, Auntie. We get punished, Auntie.”
“That’s better, my girl. Yes, you do. You get your bare naughty little bottoms smacked! Now, over my knee, little girl. I want your hands here, and your feet there!” She pointed to her left side for my hands and her right side for my feet.
Without question, I found myself going over her knee, my hands grabbing the wooden cross bar on the chair, my toes just touching the floor, causing me to push my bottom up high to meet her hand. She made sure my top was out of the way of my bum and, without any rubbing or warning, her hand landed with a loud crack firmly in the centre of both cheeks.
I let out an involuntary squeak as it left a bright sharp hot sting on my bottom. This was just the start as she carried on, moving from cheek to cheek to the crease between my thighs and bottom for a good two minutes non-stop. With each smack, the heat and sting started to build to a point where it started to make my legs twitch and buckle a little, and produced moans and whimper from me as tears filled my eyes.
My bottom was glowing hot by now and the sting was uncontrollable. I just wanted to rub it away, but I knew it was washing away my naughtiness which finally led me to start to quietly cry.
“Does it hurt, Chloe?”
I yelped and sniffed up a little before I answered her question with my voice cracking.
“Good, I’m glad I’m getting through to you.”
Not once did she miss a beat as she scolded me, working from cheek to cheek; the room filling with the sound of flesh on flesh and the sounds of a naughty little girl yelping as she learnt her lesson.
“Get up now, Chloe, and you leave those knickers down, young lady. I’m not done with you yet! Go to the corner.”
I slowly got to my feet, my legs still trembling and tingling from the smacking. I pulled my top down but it did nothing to cover my bum or my embarrassment. I slowly made my way to the corner, having to pull my knickers up a little to help me walk to the corner Auntie was pointing at.
I stood there, nose flush to the wall and bottom out, hands folded behind my back. I never noticed how long I was in the corner. My head was swimming with the fact I had more to come with my own hairbrush and flashing back to the fact that, oh my god, she smacked me harder with her hand then my Grandmother ever did.
“Right, little girl, come here.”
I turned around to see her holding my hairbrush and her finger pointing to her lap.
I shuffled back to her lap as quickly as I could with my tights and knickers at half mast, with my legs still twitching from the heat from my bum. With a helping hand I was back over her knee. My red bum was thrust high in the air again. The cool summer afternoon air doing nothing to cool it down.
“Right, Chloe, you are going to remember this punishment, and when I see you again we hopefully won’t be repeating any of this for the same infractions, because this is a walk in the park compared to what you will get, little lady. Do I make myself clear, young lady?”
“Yes, Auntie,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Very good, little girl.”
I felt the cold plastic run over my warm skin, then a blinding flash of pain registered in my mind after the crack filled the air. My squeals and yelps started right away. Growing louder and louder the longer Auntie worked the hard, plastic brush over my red-hot, bare stinging bottom and the crease at the tops of my thigh, to the point where I was sobbing like the little girl I am.
After three minutes the brush stopped, and I was informed that Auntie was to give me ten more and I should count them. I agreed in words mixed with sobs and hiccups. With that, the brush was moved around my bum, before a couple of taps and it brought down firmly in the centre of my left cheek.
“Oowwwieeee! One, Auntie.”
Another nine landed between the centre of each cheek, driving home the point and leaving a large white mark on both cheeks and me a sobbing mess. Auntie left me over her knee for a few moments before I was told to stand and go to the corner again.
I slowly got to my feet, my legs trembling and barely holding me up as I pulled down my top. I struggled to walk to the corner with my tights and knickers around my ankles, where gravity had taken them during my kicking and squirming. The brush had done a thorough job of making me one very contrite little girl.
I was left in the corner for twenty minutes before being told I was free to leave and return to Auntie, where a massive hug waited for me.
We sat and hugged and chatted. Auntie made me keep my tights and knickers down and my bottom bare until it was time to go home. I kept sneaking looks at my bum and she kept stroking or patting it, till it was time to get a taxi back to the station.
It was a long two-and-a-half hours sitting on a rock-hard train seat all the way back to Edinburgh, but totally worth it. I spent the whole trip back squirming. Anyone who was watching me must’ve thought I had ants in my knickers. But I didn’t care as I text chatted with Auntie and my Grandmother. That missing jigsaw piece I had lost was now found and replaced in the puzzle of my life.
© Lucybee 2020