The story continues

By Frances Stephenson

PART THREE. Emily and James become engaged and then married

This incident passed and life continued on its path, before too long Emily and James became engaged, much to the delight of Emily’s mother and the seeming approval of James’s rather stern and remote mother.

Much time was taken up in planning their life together and they were both pleased to find the number of interests, likes and dislikes they shared. They talked about their teenage years and James was especially interested to hear about the punishment regimes that Emily had had to undergo.

Emily described her, mercifully short, time when she had to wear the ‘yellow belt’ and the seemingly non-stop regime of spankings and canings. James questioned her closely on this aspect of her school life. She also told him about the order mark book which she would have had to carry around if she had been made to wear the ‘yellow belt’ later on.

The old method of sending in slips was thought to be time wasting and clumsy and, instead, the miscreant had to always carry her Order Mark book with her, enabling Staff and prefects to award demerit marks ‘on the spot’ rather than by the previous method. The Head Girl would then merely tot up the totals at the end of the day and administer punishment accordingly.

James was clearly fascinated about this whole method of awarding marks that would be translated into punishment. “That’s certainly something you and I could use,” he said.

“How do you mean, James?” Said Emily.

“You could keep an Order Book in the form of a diary in which you write up your faults and mistakes and general disobedience and place an Order Mark against each fault. We could go through them together on, say, a Sunday evening. I can then review your faults and your assessment of the punishment which they attract. If I agree we leave them as they appear.

“If, however, the marks are too low or too high, I will amend them with your agreement and the totals are added up and the total number of marks accumulated during the week is translated into the number of spanks you will receive. It certainly should keep you in order.

“Naturally there will be a maximum number of spanks you can receive on the Sunday evening and should the award be in excess of the agreed maximum then the marks are carried forward and, maybe, added to a total thus forming a ‘bank’ which can be used in the future, if necessary.

“I do not possess an old gym shoe like the one you were spanked with at school but I do possess an 18 inch boxwood ruler which, I am sure, would do just as well.

“What do you think about this programme?”

Emily was conscious of a feeling of dread as well as a feeling of excitement. The thought of being spanked with a ruler by her soon-to-be husband was really erotic. She admitted to herself that the thought of presenting her bottom for punishment was a real ‘turn on’, added to which she would enjoy submitting herself to her masterful boyfriend.

“Yes James,” she whispered. “I will be pleased to confess my faults to you and accept whatever punishment you see fit to give me.”

She looked so sweet and penitent that James swept her into his arms and a long and passionate kiss ensued.

*     *     *

The wedding was now over and Emily and James settled down together. They had moved into James’s mother’s house, she having moved into a large flat near to her bridge playing friends.

Emily settled down to married life and was surprised how easily they slipped into a satisfying life together.

James soon instituted the ‘Sunday Evening’ regime whereby Emily presented herself with her ‘Order Mark’ book ready to go through the entries with James. This turned into an event for them both and they often shared half a bottle of wine with a snack supper while mulling over the entries in Emily’s book. Later the marks were added up and a spanking was agreed upon with James using his ruler.

The severity of the spanking varied from week to week with Emily accepting whatever James decreed. Sometimes the ruler really stung and she would have a red and sore bottom to take to bed that night, but somehow it seemed to be worth it.

James was working his way up the ladder at the solicitor’s office and the prospect of a junior partnership was not far distant. He had been selected to visit an important client of the firm in the Southern States of the USA and stay with the owner and CEO of this Company.

Emily had invited James’s mother and her own mother to tea so that they could hear all about James’s important trip.

“Joe Trinder is considerably older than me,” said James. “But we got on well together with Joe, the CEO, treating me rather like a son. Joe has four lovely daughters one about 19 one of 18 and twins of 16, all outgoing and great fun to be with. Naturally enough they were popular with the local boys and had many boyfriends.

“I was working on a report late one night when I heard a commotion downstairs. On going to investigate, I found an irate Joe confronting his pretty eighteen year old daughter. I was going to return to my room but was asked to come back by Joe ‘to see if I have left anything out’ whilst listing his daughter’s faults.

“The situation was that Mary, the eighteen year old, had stayed out two hours beyond her curfew. Even worse, she had not used her cell phone to communicate (it was switched off). Secondly, her lipstick was smudged. Thirdly, her blouse showed evidence of manhandling and was not correctly re-buttoned, and lastly her hair was considerably tousled with the odd piece of hay embedded in it. All in all she looked as though she had engaged in a strenuous bout of petting.”

Joe was not impressed. “Get to bed,” he rasped. “We will continue this in the morning.”

Thanking me for my moral support, we went to bed.

At around nine the next morning, Saturday, the whole family were around the breakfast table, including myself. I noted that Mary was looking a bit apprehensive.

“Come on Mary,” said Joe. “Let’s do it now and get it out of the way.”

Mary seemed to know exactly what her father meant and got to her feet and moved a leather chair towards the centre of the room; the chair back was about waist high. She then moved to the sideboard and reached up to bring a wooden implement down.

“Show it to James,” called out Joe. ”Chances are that him being English he ain’t never seen a spanking paddle before.”

A clearly embarrassed Mary showed me the paddle. It was about 22 inches long by three and a half inches wide and Half an inch thick with a number of holes drilled in what was, clearly, the business end.

“The holes make it go though the air easier and makes your butt smart more,” whispered Mary in response to my unspoken question.

“Come on, honey, let’s get your butt good and spanked, show our English guest how a Southern lady takes her punishment.”

“Oh papa, do I have to?” Cried Mary.

“Yep, you sure do, just get on with it.” Retorted her unfeeling father.

With a deep sigh, Mary unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and struggled out of them. Her shirt was tied around her waist and I was treated to the stunning sight of Mary in brief pink knickers and nothing else below her waist.

She slowly made her way to the red chair and stood behind it; she then bent over and grasped the front legs. I could see that she was holding on for all she was worth.

Joe picked up the paddle and patted his daughter’s bottom before bringing it down with a hard crack over the centre. The next was a bit lower covering her overhang and the very tops of her legs. The third stroke was nearer the top. All strokes seemed to overlap and Mary’s bottom looked red and sore. Joe did not hold back and delivered each stroke with a wide back-swing before crashing it down on Mary’s thinly protected bottom. Mary, herself, was wailing at each stroke.

Three very hard strokes were completed and I wondered how many more were to come. I was soon to find out. Another six crashed into Mary’s bottom before Joe delivered the final whack across the centre. Joe pointed out the blotches covering his daughter’s bottom saying that it would bruise a bit and be uncomfortable for a few days.

“I don’t want to stop you having fun, honey,” he said to Mary. “But step outside the rules and you pay for it.”

“Yes, Papa, and thank you for spanking me so well.”

Mary moved on presenting me with charming view of her beautiful bottom with their little pink knickers surrounded by a red and hot area, to say nothing of the red hot area inside.

“I reckon those spanking paddles do a good job, what do you think James?”

“Yes, I agree Joe. I have a naughty young wife at home who would benefit from some sessions with one.”

“Come with me into town this afternoon and I will buy you one.”

And he did and here it is. James slipped out of the drawing room only to return a moment later with a shining new punishment paddle. In the meantime Emily had gone from red with embarrassment to quite pale.

James brought over the paddle and gave it to a shrinking Emily. “Here we are, this is the real thing.” He said, jovially. “Pick it up and have a good look, Emily. You will see that I asked the shop to carve your name onto it.”

Sure enough, there was ‘EMILY’ clearly carved into the handle.

“The shop was most interested that I was taking their paddle back to England and intended using it on an English girl. They want you to write to them and tell them how you find it and, of course, any complaints! I would, however, like you to write a letter of thanks to Joe for his gift to you.”

Emily’s colour continued to fluctuate from red to white. “I will do it tomorrow,” she whispered.

PART FOUR. Emily is spanked in front of her mother and mother-in-law.

James was glad that they had invited Emily’s mother and his own mother for a light supper which would culminate in Emily being spanked in front of them. The meal was coming to an end.

“You are not eating much, Emily,” said her mother.

“I never feel like eating much before being spanked; too many butterflies getting in the way!” She added quietly.

“I think we are about finished,” said James. “Emily, why don’t you go and prepare for your spanking. Take your mother with you. I am sure a bit of company will help with the butterflies.”

Emily got up from the table and shyly asked her mother if she would care to join her.

“Yes, of course, dear,” retorted Julia as she followed Emily upstairs to the master bedroom.

Emily sat on the bed and removed her jeans and knickers.

“Surely you are not going to be spanked on the bare, darling, are you?” gasped Julia.

“As good as,” replied Emily, who was pulling on a pair of white modest looking thin white knickers. “This is as close to a bare bottom spanking as it is possible to get get, see!” She tuned around and put her hands on her knees.

Julia looked at her daughter’s bottom with some astonishment. Although Emily’s lovely bottom was encased in the white bikini pants the back view was as though she were naked, so transparent and sheer was the material.

“They are a great favourite of James’s,” said Emily.

‘I bet they are,’ thought Julia.

 “You can see my poor bottom getting redder and redder as the spanking goes on. I hope you and Celia enjoy the show! But I must get on. James will be annoyed if I am late.”

She put on a simple navy blue wrap-around gym kilt and a white cotton top that came to her waist. She then proceeded to pull on a pair of lightweight opaque white cotton ‘over the knee” schoolgirl socks. A pair of flat shiny black slip-on shoes completed the ensemble.

Julia though Emily looked like a very attractive and appealing schoolgirl.

“One thing more,” said Emily. “I must not forget this at all costs.” She went to her knicker drawer and found the spanking paddle. “Right, shall we go downstairs, mummy?”

Julia had paled a bit at the sight of the fearsome looking implement, not quite believing that her daughter was about to be well spanked with it and wondering what the evening held next. Although pale and clearly nervous Emily did not seem unduly disturbed by what was to come.

In the drawing room, Emily drew up a lowish-backed red leather chair like a very comfortable dining chair, with arms, of course. Julia had never seen it before, little realising that it had been brought especially for the purpose of providing Emily with a comfortable rest for her to bend over when she was due to be spanked.

Emily turned the chair towards the wall and allowed one of the dimmed spotlights to focus on the back of the chair. Two further chairs were placed a short distance behind the red chair and to the right. Julia, feeling she should help, turned the red chair around so that it faced into the room.

“No mummy,” said Emily, moving the chair back to its original position. “I will have to bend over the back of the chair to receive my spanking.”

With that, she placed the ‘EMILY’ paddle on the seat of the red chair.

“I had better go and tell James and Celia that all is prepared. I won’t be long.”

With that, she headed off to the dining room where James and Celia had cleared up the tables and were awaiting events to unfold. Emily knocked on the door.

“Come in,” said James.

Emily arrived in the dining room looking a little hesitant and pale, her eyes seemed huge and apprehensive. “Everything is ready, James,” she said quietly.

James thought she looked stunning in the very short navy blue skirt and the white over-the-knee socks. The schoolgirl impression was highlighted by her nervous and hesitant manner.

Celia obviously thought so as well, and the gleam in her eye now positively glowed. James ushered his mother forward, followed by Emily. He bestowed a brief smile on Emily as their eyes briefly met.

Once in the drawing room Emily ushered the two mothers forward and indicated the two chairs which had been placed for them. Emily them stood quietly, waiting for instructions. James opened the proceedings by saying that he used corporal punishment in his home and Emily had accepted this discipline. Indeed, she privately thought it a good idea added to which it was strangely satisfying to be spanked by her strict husband; her bottom gave an involuntary twitch of expectant dread.

“Emily and I have developed a system whereby every week we settle down together and review the diary in which Emily has written her faults and transgressions. A number is written beside each entry which indicates strokes of the paddle which Emily feels she deserves. Low value entries such as quarter and halves are included, as they all add up! All entries must be agreed by us both and the weeks tally is added up and added to a running total.

Emily had not let on, but the process was eerily like the confessions and subsequent spankings that she had to undergo at school under Barbara’s somehow pleasurable tutelage.

“I do not necessarily spank Emily every week, but when I do spank Emily the number of strokes she receives is subtracted from the running total shown in the diary. There is currently quite a healthy debit against Emily’s name, far too many to be extinguished by one or even a few sessions. Emily is very good about keeping the diary up to date, probably knowing that she will be awarded extra strokes if she forgets something! I intend giving her a good firm spanking tonight, her first for a couple of weeks, and I will give her eight strokes which will make her bottom glow nicely.”

Emily heard the news in an almost abstract fashion, almost as though it wasn’t her bottom that was going to be spanked.

‘Pull yourself together,’ she thought.

“Thank you James,” she almost whispered. “I will be pleased to accept this number of strokes and hope it will continue to teach me to become a good wife to you. I promise to keep the diary up to date.”

Celia was pleased with this little speech and more than pleased at the charming picture her son’s wife presented.

“Right, bend over Emily and lets get your naughty bottom well spanked.”

Emily dutifully did so, her head well down and her bottom on high. She made sure that her gym skirt was folded well back before reaching forward to firmly grasp the front chair legs.

Even her mother had to admit that Emily’s luscious bottom was correctly presented with the transparent knickers showing it off to great advantage.

Celia was also aware of a heightened sense of well-being and a rather cruel smile played on her lips as she waited.

“Here it comes,” said James as the first stroke landed on Emily’s bottom.

‘Why is it always more painful than I remember,’ thought Emily as she struggled to absorb the first stroke. She could already feel the effects with a warmth growing rapidly in intensity spreading over her uplifted bottom.

The second stroke was slightly lower and nearer the lower bulge of her bottom, some overlapping was natural as the paddle was 3 and a half inches wide. It seemed harder and Emily squealed softly. Again, the spreading glow grew.

Celia’s rather cruel smile had been replaced by her half-open mouth and deeper breathing; her colour was heightened and her eyes sparkling. She was clearly enjoying herself. Emily’s mother less so, although she admitted to herself that Emily was sufficiently wilful and naughty to deserve this type of punishment.

‘Crash’, the third stroke made itself felt in that part of her lower bottom near the top of her legs.

“OOOOMF, AAARH!!” Cried Emily, coping with the ever-increasing sharp sting. Was James doing it harder? Maybe he was, just to show his mother what a dominant husband he was.

Number four was higher up and favoured the right hand side and made Emily gasp. Yes it was definitely harder, the red glow still spreading over the twin globes. Emily’s grip on the chair legs tightened as she anticipated the next stroke.

Number five made her softly cry out and tears started to gather in her eyes.

‘Three to go,’ she thought, trying to contain the dreadful sting.

Number six arrived.

“OOO, OWWW!” She cried, and the tears spilled over. She would have liked to rub her burning bottom but knew James would immediately add penalty strokes. Two more were going to be difficult enough to take without adding to them. There was always the possibility of James giving her extra anyway.

Number seven arrived, leaving its scarlet calling card roughly where the first stroke had landed.

“ARRRRGH! OOOOOOO! OWOWOW!” Called Emily, becoming more vocal as the pain sharply increased. The heat now felt as though it was being turned up a few more notches. Only one to go!

“OOOO! OWCH! OWCH! OWCCHH!” Emily squealed as number eight crashed in.

Emily waited; it should be over but she could never be quite sure and James was perfectly capable of adding a few more strokes She waited with her burning bottom on high hoping that this would be the end of this session.

“That’s all, Emily,” announced James. “You did very well, that was a harder spanking than I usually give you and you took it well. You may get up now.”

Emily unlocked her body and rose painfully from her bent position.

“You may rub your bottom.”

Emily did, with some enthusiasm. She did a little dance and stamped her feet, trying to dissipate the dreadful sting in her bottom. With her short skirt swirling and her hair flying she looked adorable, the epitome of a naughty schoolgirl emphasised by the chalk white over-the-knee socks and the shiny black flat shoes, tousled hair and tear-stained face.

“OH! OW! OH! OW! OH! OH! OH!” She cried.

“Take off your skirt so that we can have a good view of your well spanked bottom and stand in that corner like a naughty schoolgirl.”

Emily moved over to the indicated position and stood with her left leg stiff and straight and the right slightly bent and relaxed. She did, indeed, look like a naughty schoolgirl with her glowing bottom. She looked adorable.

She continued to sniff and wriggle her hips. James came over to her bearing a box of tissues and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a quick peck on the cheek. She was delighted by his action, even although he had been the author of her pain and discomfort. She even managed a weak and watery smile and gently, ever so gently, rubbed her hot and sore bottom.

The two mothers had been silent. Celia was pleased with the entire performance, pleased with her son’s performance and pleased that Emily had been spanked so soundly. She looked so appealing and splendidly vulnerable, standing in the corner with her wonderful bottom just glowing. What a good evening!

Much to her surprise, Julia’s principal feeling was pride but tempered with sympathy. Pride that her daughter had suffered a painful ordeal with fortitude and some style, and sympathy that she had had to suffer such a hot and painful bottom in the process.

James was drawing the evening to a close and fetched the two ladies’ coats.

Julia was first and she then went over to Emily to wish her goodnight.

“Thank you, mummy,” whispered Emily. “Did you enjoy watching me being spanked?”

“Enjoy is perhaps the wrong word, darling,” said Julia. “But you took your punishment very well and I hope your red bottom will soon calm down.” She bent to kiss a much calmer Emily. “I’ll phone you during the week.”

Celia was much more effusive and had clearly enjoyed herself. “May I feel your bottom?” She said, and, receiving a reply in the affirmative, grasped Emily’s right cheek, surprised at the heat generated but revelling in her first touch of Emily’s stunning bottom. She gently patted the left and then the right cheek, and Emily reached up to kiss her goodnight. A faraway look came into Celia’s eyes but she bade Emily and James goodnight and thanked them for an interesting and stimulating evening.

Now alone, James took Emily into his arms and felt her nestle into the curve of his body. “I know that was painful for you but I can’t tell you what a wonderfully stimulating experience that spanking was. I know it was disciplinary but I enjoyed it so much.”

Emily herself was more than a little stimulated by the spanking and the heat generated from her bottom had reached other, more intimate areas, and was increasing all the time. She hugged him and revelled in his masculine hardness. James kissed Emily long and passionately.

Emily smiled at him, flushed and with her eyes lit up. “Suppose you take me upstairs and give me another but different going over,” she suggested, a saucy smile on her face.

The End

© Frances Stephenson 2013