A different take on the traditional visit.

By Kenny Walters

“Hi, darling!”

“Hi, mum.”

Mary Challoner looked up and saw her daughter, Stephanie, drop her leather case at the foot of the stairs and disappear into the kitchen.

“Coffee, mum?” Stephanie’s face appeared round the corner.

“Yes, please.”

Listening to the sound of the kettle being filled, coffee mugs being placed on the counter and coffee being measured out, Mary Challoner knew instinctively something was not quite right.

“Good day at school, darling?”

“College, mother! I go to sixth form college.”

“Sorry, darling! Did you have a good day at sixth form college?” Mary answered, before muttering under her breath: “Which is not part of school although it’s in the same grounds and has much the same name.”

After a two minute silence, Stephanie appeared with two mugs of coffee. She sat on the sofa across the coffee table from her mother.

“Thank you, darling.” Mary Challoner took sips of her hot coffee and waited, aware of Stephanie taking several secretive glances at her.


“Yes, darling.”

Stephanie stared at her own coffee, still taking the occasional furtive glance up at her mother.


“Yes, darling.” Mrs Challoner knew it was best to be patient and let her daughter take her own time. In the meantime, she sipped her coffee and tried to appear as though she hadn’t even realised Stephanie had something on her mind.

“Mum, would you spank me?”

Narrowly avoiding dropping her coffee in her lap, Mary Challoner swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

Stephanie blushed and looked awkward. She coughed. “I, um, asked you if you would spank me.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Mrs Challoner blinked several times. “Er, is there any particular reason why I would do that? I mean, you’re eighteen now and I haven’t ever spanked you before, have I?”

“Actually, there were a couple of smacks on my bottom some years ago.” Stephanie blushed even more deeply.

“Were there? I expect you were being particularly annoying.” Mary Challoner put her coffee mug on the table and dabbed at her mouth with a tissue. “Even so, I think you need to tell me what this is all about.”

*          *          *

“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” Stephanie whispered in the ear of her best friend, Beckie Stone.


Silence prevailed until the footsteps of the two members of staff disappeared down the corridor.

“Of course it is. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Durr! We could get caught?”

“We won’t get caught!” Beckie flicked her long dark hair out of her eyes. “Unless we stand here talking all day.”

They both cautiously peered round the open door of the empty classroom they’d hidden in, found it was clear and emerged back into the long corridor.

“I’m still not sure about this.” Stephanie moaned.

“For goodness sakes!” Exclaimed Becky. “St Mary’s Sixth Form girls so rarely get invited to the boys’ college. There’s never going to be a better chance for a little innocent mischief. School’s ended, most of the boys and staff have gone home, so there’s just the senior sixth form rugby boys left. And even if they catch us, they’re not going to report a couple of gorgeous girls like us, are they?”

“Well, no,” Stephanie hesitated, wondering in her own mind just what the boys might do.

“Sssshhh!” Becky cautioned again, as the sound of boys’ laughter trickled down the corridor. “That large open door to the right must be the changing rooms.”

“Quiet boys!” An older male voice of authority called. “Get stripped, get into the showers and be quick about it.”

“Oh yes! Get stripped, boys. The girls are coming!” Becky whispered excitedly.

They were nearing the open doorway now, stepping softly and not talking. Becky peered round the corner and took a sharp intake of breath. Stephanie, being several inches taller, did the same, looking over Becky and seeing three boys, all totally naked and clutching towels, walking towards the back of the room where there was another open door.

As the two girls’ eyes looked around, they saw boys, all clearly sixth form boys, in the process of stripping off their rugby kit, laughing and joking. A couple flicked towels at their now naked friends, and then one boy emerged from what was obviously the shower room with a large white towel wrapped around his waist. But then, one of his pals tugged at the towel and it fell away.

“Brilliant!” Whispered Becky, as she reached into her bag for her smartphone and its integral camera. “Just wait ‘til the girls see this!”

Stephanie stood and worried, although that didn’t stop her looking. After several minutes, and many clicks of Becky’s in-phone camera, most of the boys had finished their showers and a few had almost finished dressing.

“Come on!” Stephanie hissed in her friend’s ear. “Let’s get going!”

“Hold on, there’s a couple of boys I really want to get. They’re hot!”

Stephanie, waited nervously, hoping that Becky would hurry up so they could retreat back down the corridor.

“Ouch!” Stephanie gasped.

“Quiet!” Becky urged in a whisper.

Then they both felt a hand on their collars.

“Gentlemen, we have visitors!”

The two girls looked round as best they could and saw their captor was a very tall, rather handsome lad with neatly trimmed fair hair. His uniform was similarly extremely smart with knife-edged creases to his grey trousers and a black blazer that was noticeably blemish free.

The strong hands propelled them both into the changing room where some boys hastily covered themselves with towels, while others simply grinned.

A man in his forties with short, very dark hair emerged from a small side room. “What’s this? What’s going on?”

“I found these two peering into the changing room, sir.” The very tall boy announced as he continued his hold on the girls’ collars.

The older man seemed dumbstruck. He stared at the two girls for some seconds before approaching them slowly and recovering some composure.

“Thank you, Jenkins. I think you can let go of them now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You girls, outside into the corridor.”

Becky and Stephanie stepped back into the corridor and were taken a few yards along so they could no longer see into the changing room.

“What have you to say for yourselves, girls?” The dark haired man, who the girls presumed correctly was the sports teacher in charge of the rugby practice, demanded tersely.

Both girls shrugged. “Um, we’re sorry, sir?” Stephanie offered.

“Sorry you got caught, you mean.”

Stephanie grimaced and nodded slowly.

“Why are you trespassing in this school, if that isn’t a daft question?”

“They’re from St Mary’s, sir.” Jenkins, the very tall boy who had followed them out, answered for them.

“Well done, Jenkins. No wonder they made you Head Boy, eh? Actually, I can see that much from the uniform they’re wearing, thank you!”

“No, sir,” Jenkins blushed at the rebuke. “What I meant was, there were a group of girls from St Mary’s visiting our A-level English Literature class. Something about exchanging notes and so forth.”

“And you think these girls might have been a part of that group?”

“Yes, sir, I remember the tall one with the short blond hair, sir.” Jenkins gave Stephanie a smile.

“Thank you, Jenkins. That’s enough of that.” The teacher turned to the two girls. “Is that correct? Were you a part of the visiting English Literature group?”

“Yes, sir.” Both girls declared simultaneously.

“That still doesn’t excuse you from this little affair, does it?”

“No, sir.”

“You’d better give me your names then, hadn’t you?”

While Beckie was mulling over the possibility of giving a false name, Stephanie simple blurted out: “Stephanie Challenor, sir.”

The teacher patted his pockets, desperately searching for paper and pen. Jenkins found suitable items in his own pockets and handed them over.

“Thank you, Jenkins. Let’s see, Stephanie Challenor, and you, girl, what’s your name?”

“Rebecca Stone, sir.” In the event, Beckie decided dishonesty might be a bad move.

Having written down the two names, the teacher handed the pen back to the Head Boy.

“Keep an eye on the boys, Jenkins. Make sure they get off home quickly. I’ll escort these two off the school premises.”

“I could do that, if you like, sir.” Jenkins suggested hopefully. The glare he got back from the teacher quickly dispersed any such desires.

*            *           *

“I am really beyond words!”

Mrs Collison, headmistress of St Mary’s, looked up from her chair and glared at each of the two girls standing in front of her desk.

“What on earth must the headmaster of the boys’ school think of St Mary’s now? Eh? Eh?”

“Not very much, miss.” Stephanie murmured.

“No, young lady! Not very much at all!”

“We’re very sorry, miss.” Becky offered, with a sideways glance at Stephanie.

“Yes, miss.” Stephanie confirmed, in the hope it might do some good.

“Eighteen year olds acting like ten year olds.” Declared Mrs Collison. “I’m trying hard not to expel the pair of you, you know. I’m conscious you’re A-levels aren’t so far away. Changing schools at this stage could severely hinder your studies.”

Becky sighed anxiously, Stephanie bit her lip.

“Mr Breton, headmaster of the boys school, has been surprisingly sympathetic in the circumstances. He accepts that, with only senior boys involved, no great harm has been done.”

Becky raised an eyebrow.

“Mr Breton feels that, rather than doing anything that could harm your long-term futures, I should find you a particularly humiliating punishment that would go some way to mitigating the dreadful embarrassment those poor boys must have felt.”

Stephanie and Becky both found themselves thinking back to the smiles on some of the boys’ faces.

“Perhaps I should invite them along and let them watch you getting changed for hockey practice?”

Stephanie looked shocked.

Becky smiled thoughtfully.

Mrs Collison coughed. “No! No, that wouldn’t do at all, of course.”

While the two girls stood, the headmistress moved some papers around her desk, toyed with a gold pen, and generally prevaricated while she turned ideas over in her mind.

“Actually, girls, I think I’ll let you think up an appropriate punishment for yourselves. Pop out into the corridor, have a think and let me know what you decide in ten minutes. Remember, it needs to be severe enough to match the severity of the offence, and it needs to be humiliating. Don’t let me down! Now, go! Go!”

*          *          *

“So, whose bright idea was this, then?” Mary Challoner asked, having heard the full story from her daughter.

“The raid on the boys’ changing room? It was Becky’s.”

“Of course.” Mrs Challoner sighed to herself. “No, I meant the spankings.”

“That was Becky’s too, sort of. I mean, we really didn’t want, like, detentions or anything, and anyway that wouldn’t really be humiliating. Then I kind of joked that perhaps Mrs Collison would like to cane us and Becky hit on it as a good idea.

“Becky thought being caned by Mrs Collison was a good idea? Seriously?”

“Well actually she suggested that tall Head Boy might like to come over to our school and do it. I think Becky quite fancied him.”

“I bet Mrs Collison loved that idea!”

“Actually, she was getting a bit annoyed that we weren’t taking it all terribly seriously.” Stephanie replied. “It was around then she suddenly came up with the idea that being spanked by our mothers might be the solution. She reckoned it would be the sort of humiliation the boys’ headmaster was intending, and we felt the general idea somehow seemed a way out of being subjected to public humiliation like litter picking or running round the sports track god knows how many times.”

“So, you were all in agreement? I’m surprised.”

“We intended it as a kind of mock spanking. You know, a bit old public school where we pretended to bend over for the cane and Mrs Collison pretended to give us six smacks. We were going to take photos and send them to the boys school. Embarrassing, but with a bit of humour, you know?”

“So, why am I being summoned to the school?”



Stephanie huffed and sighed. “I think we meant something a little different from dear Mrs Collison.”

“Something different? In what way?”

“She presumed we meant a real whacking. Before we could put her right, she prattled on about not being authorised to administer corporal punishment herself, but if we got our mothers along to do it, then she would inform the headmaster of the boys school what had been done to us, and he would be allowed to inform all the boys whose privacy we had interfered with.”

“And you said?”

“We argued, of course. But by then she’d already made her mind up this was all a good idea and started asking her secretary to keep her diary clear after two o’clock tomorrow. After that, she wasn’t really listening to any objections we might have had.”

“And now you’re both okay with that?”

“We simply couldn’t come up with a better idea.” Stephanie grimaced. “I guess it could be a lot worse.”

“You don’t want me to try and argue your case, maybe come up with something else to punish you both?”

“Becky seems settled on the idea.” Stephanie shrugged. “I just want to get this whole sorry affair over with.”

“Take your spanking, you mean?”

“I suppose so.”

*          *          *

“Hi, Ruth.” Mrs Challoner said cheerily as she got out of her car and checked her bag.

“Hi, Mary. Just checking you’ve got everything?” Ruth Stone grinned.

“Got everything? Why? Was I meant to bring something?”

Ruth chuckled. “No, not really, Mary. Come on, let’s go and meet the dragon.”

The two mothers linked arms as they walked towards the school entrance.

“I always feel nervous when I meet Mrs Collison,” Mary Challoner said. “Although she’s always been very friendly really.”

“Sort of, like it’s you in trouble, not your daughter?”

“Yes, exactly. I’ve even dressed smartly for her.”

Ruth Stone looked down at Mary’s skirt, a dark blue, fairly tight skirt that just reached her knees. It contrasted with a gleaming white blouse. “So I see, Mary. Definitely dressing to please, I’d say.”

“Not sure how Mrs Collison will take to those tight trousers, Ruth. You could be in trouble yourself!”

“I like tight trousers!” Ruth Stone declared. “And I’m a parent, so our dear headmistress will just have to lump it.”

“That light tan material will show every mark, you know.”

“Oh, shut up!”

They entered the school by the main entrance, crossed the lobby and entered the school secretary’s office. Inside, they found Stephanie and Becky waiting for them, both dressed in the sixth form ‘uniform’ of black trousers and white blouses tucked into the waistbands of the trousers. Skirts could be worn, but not many took up that option.

“Can I help you, ladies?” Anne Parsons, the secretary, greeted them.

“We’re with these two.” Mary Challoner replied. “I’m Stephanie’s mother. This is Mrs Stone, Becky’s mother.”

“Please take a seat, ladies, Mrs Collison won’t be long.”

“She knows!” Ruth whispered to Mary.

“That means the whole school will soon know.” Becky added. A glance from Anne Parsons made her wish she’d kept her remark to herself.

From that moment on, the four sat quietly, keeping their thoughts to themselves.

Suddenly, the door to Mrs Collison’s study half opened and the lady herself peered out.

“Ah, good! You’re all here. Would you like to come through?”

As they entered the headmistress’s study, they found two armless chairs placed strategically in front of the large desk.

“Please sit down, ladies,” Mrs Collison gestured towards the chairs while she went round behind the desk.

Ruth Stone took the chair on the left, while Mary Challoner took the remaining chair. The two girls stood beside their respective mothers.

“Okay, I’m sure we all know why we’re here today, don’t we?” The headmistress looked for confirmation.

“Well, yes, we know why we’re here, but is this really a good ide…?” Mary Challoner felt a sharp kick on her ankle. A glance at Ruth Stone confirmed who the culprit had been.

“It solves an otherwise extremely difficult problem.” Mrs Collison said, in answer to Mary’s incomplete question. “It’s all quite simple really. The deal is that I shall observe you mothers giving your daughters a spanking. The exact nature of the spanking is entirely up to you. I shall only comment if I feel the punishment doesn’t provide sufficient justice for the offence, or is overly severe. I shall then report my observations to the headmaster of the boys school, who will possibly inform the boys concerned; that is up to him. That will then be an end to the matter. Everyone okay with that?”

“So, we’ll be totally humiliated if we ever meet any of the boys. Great!” Stephanie muttered, more to herself.

“You should have thought of that when you humiliated those boys with your presence, young lady.” Mrs Collison stated firmly.

“Humiliated isn’t exactly the response I remember from most of them, actually miss.” Becky suggested.

“This might be a good time to shut up, take your medicine and bring this whole thing to a close!” Her mother countered.

“Okay.” Becky sighed.

“Shall we get on?” Mrs Collison looked in turn at each of the four females in front of her. “Who would like to go first?”

Stephanie clenched her lips together and glanced anxiously at her mother.

“I’ll lead the way,” Ruth Stone said with some enthusiasm. A grimace from her daughter showed distinctly less eagerness.

“Very well, Mrs Stone, over to you.” The headmistress leaned back and appeared ready, willing and quite keen to observe.

Becky’s mother moved her chair a little further from where Mrs Challoner was sitting and motioned for her daughter to come around to her right hand side. Becky, wearing tight black leggings, found her legs a little shaky as she followed the implied instruction.

“Okay, Becky, get yourself across my lap.”

Becky, five foot three, reached down and first placed both hands on her mother’s lap before shuffling herself forward and down. Mrs Stone kept her hands pointedly clear until Becky had settled down onto the light tan trousered lap. Immediately, Ruth Stone put her right hand under Becky and dragged her slightly closer and slightly back before elevating her own right leg over her left so that Becky’s bottom was raised into a prominent, and vulnerable, position.

The atmosphere in the room had become noticeably tense as all eyes were on Ruth and Becky Stone, and in particular the eighteen year old’s bottom, the beautifully rounded contours of which were tightly defined under the tight fitting black leggings.

Mrs Stone looked around. “All girls together, aren’t we?”

The headmistress looked faintly amused, Mary Challoner appeared puzzled. Only Stephanie and Becky seemed horrified. The girls’ fears were confirmed when Ruth Stone began peeling Becky’s black leggings off her shapely bottom and, inch by inch, down her thighs to her knees. Mrs Stone concluded with a pat on her daughter’s red and white polka dot brief panties.

“Ready?” Mrs Stone asked her daughter.

“Er, yes?” Becky answered sarcastically.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Mrs Stone reached down for the bag she’d deposited by the side of her chair and reached into it. When she withdrew her hand, she was clutching a small hairbrush with a well worn green lacquered back and handle.

“My mother used to say this would make it hurt my bottom more than her hand.”

Becky twisted round and saw the hairbrush. “Mother! You’re not going to use that on…?”

Before Becky could complete the sentence, Ruth Stone began spanking rhythmically with the wooden back of the hairbrush, a sharp slap to the left cheek, then a sharp slap to the right cheek, and on.

“Ouch! Ouch! That hurts!” Becky declared as the green hairbrush flashed up and down.

As the girl squirmed and fidgeted under the onslaught, her brief panties began to ride up exposing ever greater portions of her curvy buttocks. By the time more than twenty spanks had fallen, very little of the once milky white bottom remained, replaced by an ever darkening red blotchiness.

“For God’s sake, mother! That bloody hurts!”

“Good!” Mrs Stone kept the spanking going, methodically and unabated.

“Yeeow!! Mother! For Gods’s sakes!!”

Ruth Stone stopped spanking her daughter and surveyed Becky’s sore bottom. “I think that’s about forty or so spanks.” She looked at Mrs Collison for guidance.

The headmistress nodded. “Yes, Mrs Stone, I think that should suffice. Thank you.”

As Stephanie Challoner looked on with mounting anxiety, Mrs Stone helped her daughter pull her leggings back up to the tops of her thighs before easing herself back off the lap.

“Thank you, mother!” Becky said contemptuously, as she knelt on the plush carpet and looked up.

“Just pull your leggings up and stand next to me. Be thankful this is over, for you at least.”

Mrs Stone looked at Stephanie Challoner. Becky followed her mother’s eyes and noted that her friend was looking extremely worried. Quietly, she struggled to her feet and pulled her leggings up, gave her bottom a rub, and followed the others in focussing on Stephanie as she stood next to her mother.

“Mum, you don’t need to do this.” Stephanie wailed.

“I think I do, especially now that Becky has taken her spanking.”

“Mum, please!”

“Stand there, by my side, and slip your trousers down, there’s a good girl.”

While Stephanie went as far as standing next to her mother and facing the waiting lap, she kept her hands distinctly away from her trousers, smart black trousers, well pressed, that had a front zip and button fastening.

“You’re keeping everyone waiting,” Her mother said. “I don’t think it will get any easier, however long you delay.”

Stephanie looked at her mother, despairing, pleading.

“Let me help you, darling.” Mrs Challoner gently but firmly undid the button securing the waistband of Stephanie’s trousers, then turned her attention to the zip.

“I can do it,” Stephanie suddenly declared, brushed her mother’s fingers aside and slowly eased her zip down. The black trousers slackened and, with a little assistance from Mrs Challoner and her daughter, they fell to her ankles revealing her thin blue panties.

“Bend over.” Mrs Challoner patted her lap. Taking Stephanie’s arm, she pulled the girl gently forward and down.

“I can do it!” Stephanie hissed.

With Mrs Challoner withdrawing her hands, Stephanie bent over and flopped down on the waiting lap. She immediately felt insecure and was almost grateful when her mother pulled her towards her. Then she felt her mother’s right leg rising and being folded over the left, just as Becky’s mother had down, and she felt especially vulnerable, knowing her bottom was now in the firing line of her mother’s hand, and the centre of everyone’s attention.

Mary Challoner reached for her daughter’s right hand, took it and folded the arm behind Stephanie’s back, securing her in place. Stephanie didn’t protest.

Without warning, her mother’s hand slapped across Stephanie’s thinly protected right buttock. Even as she squealed, the hand smacked firmly against the left buttock. Smack after smack lashed against the seat of Stephanie’s pale blue underwear, with the girl screwing her face up in pain amongst much gasping and heavy intakes of breath.

Suddenly, after around twenty spanks had scorched Stephanie’s bottom, her mother stopped.

“Mum! What are you doing?”

Despite the protest, Mrs Challoner continued to tug her daughter’s pants up so that more bare buttock was exposed. When the girl’s bottom was essentially bare, her mother looked across to Ruth Stone.

“Ruth, could I borrow that hairbrush, please?”

“Mum! No!”

The two mothers were sitting too far apart for the hairbrush to be simply handed over.

“Becky, give this to Mrs Challoner, please.”

Dutifully, Becky took the hairbrush with which she had herself been chastised and took the several steps across to where her friend lay sprawled face down across her own mother’s lap.

“Thank you, Becky.” Mary Challoner took the hairbrush and weighed it in her hand.

“Yes, thank you, Becky!” Stephanie repeated with much less authenticity.

“Quiet, you!” Her mother cautioned, patting her daughter’s bottom with the back of the hairbrush. “Are you ready?”

“Ready isn’t the word!” Stephanie mumbled, but she slumped back across her mother’s lap and thrust her bottom up slightly, prepared for it to be spanked.

Instantly, the spanking did resume. The green wood backed hairbrush flashed up and down as it pounded away at the seat of Stephanie’s thin blue panties.

“Mum! That seriously hurts!”

“Does it, darling?” Mary Challoner kept spanking as she responded to her daughter. “That’s good to know.”


“I remember now how useful a good spanking was in moderating a young lady’s behaviour,” Mrs Challoner continued. “Of course, in those days I was on the receiving end.”


“There! I think we’re about done,” Stephanie’s mother paused. “What do we all think?”

“Well…” Becky smiled wickedly at her friend, still lying across her mother’s lap.

“I think that’s about forty spanks, same as I gave Becky.” Ruth Stone spoke while giving her own daughter a firm look.

“Yes, I’m quite satisfied, Mrs Challoner,” the headmistress added.

“Good! Up you get, then, Stephanie.” Mary Challoner helped Stephanie to her feet.

Stephanie didn’t speak as she reached down and pulled her trousers up. Only when the black trousers were fully secured did she take a deep breath, puff her cheeks out and exhale. Rubbing her bottom through the seat of the trousers confirmed the spanking had been effective.

“Well, I think that concludes everything.” Mrs Collison said. “I suggest you two girls leave us now and get back to your lessons. Ladies, would you like tea?”

Out in the corridor and safely out of earshot of the headmistress’s office, Stephanie spoke first.

“That was just so embarrassing! I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to face my mother again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Stephanie! She only spanked you. I thought it was all quite exciting. It must be years since two girls left the headmistress’s study with sore bottoms.”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2015