A woman finds herself a disciplinarian

By Kane Strokes

For as long as she could remember, Kelly had a fascination about spankings. As a child she only earned the odd parental slap, never spanked. She always questioned her friends about their last spanking: Who? Why? When? How? Now in her thirties, she understands she has the spanking gene. Her interest in how others are spanked has deepened; she now understands likes a degree of pain, she now has a desire, a yearning, a need to be properly spanked.

She had met many who promised her the spanking she craved, but all failed to live up to their promises. Then, by chance, she met this woman on the internet. Always a cynic where the internet is concerned, Kelly thought her new friend to be a fake, like so many she had met before. But her friend invited her to Skype, where Kelly saw for herself her new friend, Liz Fordson, was indeed a woman, and who held up to the camera the hairbrush she bragged she could use with the utmost efficiency.

Always cautious, Kelly agreed to meet Liz at a motorway service area. Neither had as yet exchanged addresses. A warm day, they sat outside at a picnic table well away from the risk of being overheard. Kelly explained to Liz what she craved. Liz listened and told Kelly that was well within her capabilities. They exchanged phone numbers. They called each other several times, each time Liz defensively put Kelly off. However Liz suggested that they meet at Kelly’s, to see if her flat was suitable for her spanking.

The day of the visit, Liz’s fears were confirmed. She could hear the TV from the flat both above and below.

“If I spank you here, all your neighbours will hear,” Liz told Kelly.

Kelly argued. She told Liz she wouldn’t make a lot of noise. Liz proposed a demonstration. She had Kelly over her knee, jeans and panties around her ankles, and proceeded to spank Kelly. It didn’t take many smacks before Kelly started to shout. Liz stopped spanking; she had proved her point. Kelly would come to Liz. The spanking also heightened Kelly’s desires for a real spanking.

Kelly put down the phone, a strange sensation of pleasure and fear surged through her body. Liz had agreed. Kelly was to feel a real hairbrush spanking, not today, or tomorrow, but next weekend. Still ten days away, time Liz had insisted on to allow Kelly to change her mind.

As the days to the weekend passed, Kelly’s excitement grew, so did the knots of trepidation tighten in her stomach. She had booked time off work. Friday morning, she’d drive to meet Liz. Through the week, Kelly went shopping for stockings. It had been many years since had last worn them, but she understood Liz’s reasons for insisting on stockings or bare legs; tights hampered a naughty girl’s panties coming down. She also left details of where she was going with a good friend, a safety measure. Kelly would send a text every fours until midnight, then again each day. If the texts stopped, call the police! Thursday evening, Kelly packed her case ready for the long weekend ahead.

Friday morning, despite the ever tightening knot in Kelly’s stomach, she did her best to eat a good breakfast, something to sustain her for her drive to see Liz, a meal that would mean she wouldn’t need any over priced motorway snacks. The final chores finished before her departure, her case packed in her car, travel clothes, going out clothes and most important, her spanking clothes.

The drive was uneventful. She found Liz’s small cottage, isolated at the far end of a New Forest village, with ease thanks to the excellent directions she’d received from Liz.

Kelly wondered if Liz was at home, as it seemed an age after pressing the bell push. Then she heard movement, someone walking towards the door. Liz opened the door to Kelly.

“So sorry I took so long, I was in the garden totally unaware of the time.”

Kelly looked at Liz; she was what Kelly would called ‘spartanly’ dressed, jeans and a blouse, beneath which it was obvious that Liz was bra-less.

Kelly was shown in and Liz told her to leave her case in the hallway. She’d give her a guided tour; the living room, a kitchen that doubled as a dining room, a large private garden. Kelly looked at the high fencing, and then noticed some discarded clothing on the well manicured lawn. Liz caught her gaze.

“I nodded off, nude sunbathing; hence I’m not properly dressed. The garden is well suited for the pastime if you wish to indulge at anytime, even outdoor spankings, but you have to be careful. A footpath runs quite close to my property.” Liz caught the look of horror that crossed Kelly’s face and added: “But your spanking will be inside, in my living room.”

Liz showed Kelly to her room, showed her the bathroom, and asked if she’d like to freshen up. She’d get herself properly dressed, and suggested they take a drive to a country inn for dinner, but first afternoon tea in the garden.

Liz and Kelly took tea under the shade of a gazebo, away from the fierce rays of the sun.

“My body has had it’s ration of sun rays for today,” Liz told Kelly. She went on to point out the various plants in her garden, and the frequent visits of various species of birds.

The small talk continued, then Liz said: “We know why you’re here, but tell me again, in detail, what you’re wanting. What are your needs?”

Kelly explained she wanted the humiliation of having her panties pulled down for a hairbrush spanking.

Liz said: “I’ll warn you now, so you’ve time to change your mind, once you’re over my knee, I decide when the spanking ends. Also, I put into practice the old saying, that the real spanking doesn’t start until genuine tears are flowing.”

Kelly remarked that was exactly like a spanking should be.

The two women went on to talk about their own experiences with spanking. Liz had firm views that the cane should never have been removed from schools and recalled the time she was bent over a desk whilst the headmistress used a cane to dust the seat of her schoolgirl knickers.

As evening approached, Liz took Kelly to the country pub she had spoken about. In a quiet corner of the pub, the two spoke in subdued voices continuing their earlier conversation about their interests in spanking.

When the waitress arrived at their table with their meals, Liz proclaimed: “Many women benefit from a hairbrush spanking.” She smiled as she saw Kelly and the waitress blush.

After their meal, all eyes of the staff were on Liz and Kelly as they left the pub.

The drive home, and the rest of the evening, Liz and Kelly spent discussing their spanking needs and desires, their experiences and memories, and when Liz was at her descriptive best, just words made Kelly find sitting uncomfortable.

Liz showed Kelly the school cane that hung in her wardrobe, and told her of the number of female bottoms it had chastised, including her own. Kelly declined the invitation for a demonstration. Their evening drew to a close.

Retiring to bed, Liz told Kelly: “Midday tomorrow, high noon for your bottom, quite profound I think.”

The next morning Kelly arrived in the kitchen for breakfast. As the hour drew ever nearer, the knots in her stomach grew ever tighter. The butterflies were fluttering too. She had passed the living room and seen the straight back chair with the hairbrush placed on the seat. Kelly felt a pang of disappointment when she saw Liz casually dressed. Through the night Kelly had dreamed and fantasised about the older and matriarchal woman who would take her over her knees, a happy smiling casual Liz wasn’t what she’d expected.

“I see you’re set up already in the living room for me.”

“You’ve seen the chair and the brush? How do you feel? Like the condemned man seeing the gallows? We could say it is where your bottom is going to be executed,” Liz replied with a grin.

Kelly wasn’t certain that she wanted breakfast. Liz persuaded her she should eat something, even just a small bowl of cornflakes, whilst Liz tucked into scrambled egg and grilled bacon. After breakfast, Kelly busied herself helping Liz whereever she could, trying her best to take her mind away from midday and the clock’s slow and ominous march towards the appointed hour.

The kitchen clock ticked past eleven o’clock.

“Time to go for your shower; remember you can change your mind at anytime until you go across my knee. Once you bend over my knee, there’s no going back; you’ve submitted. I will decide when the spanking ends.” Liz told Kelly.

Kelly replied that she had no intention of changing her mind, also she had already showered before breakfast.

“It’s part of my ritual, that the errant girl showers before her appointment with me. I know you’re not an errant, but it’s best to think of it that way, to allow you to feel and understand the whole experience. 12 o’clock in the living room, don’t be late, and smart office dress. Now, off you go!”

As Kelly turned to leave, Liz planted a heavy slap on Kelly’s bottom.

“That’s for arguing, and if you’re late I’ll cane your hands,” she told her with a deadpan expression that left Kelly guessing. Was that for real or was Liz joking?

Kelly went to her, room, undressed, covered herself with her dressing gown, and went to the bathroom. She allowed the shower to caress her body, her mind active, doubting Liz’s sincerity and also doubting herself and her reasons for being here. As the stomach knots tightened, further voices told her to get herself away.

Liz went to her room, undressed. Earlier, she had laid out her clothes in readiness. She put on a suspender belt before picking up the stockings and smoothing them gently up her legs. She picked up the dark skirt of her two piece suit, did it up and then put on a plain white blouse with a high collar. She brushed and combed her hair back into a tight bun before finally donning the jacket of her suit. She went to the wardrobe to retrieve her cane, then left her room to wait for Kelly in the living room, taking the cane with her.

After her shower, Kelly finished drying herself in her room. She powdered herself all over, then had to make a decision; her white full briefs, or the black and lacy scanty panties? She opted for the black pair that matched her bra and suspenders and stockings. Kelly looked at the clock, 10 minutes. Did Liz mean what she said about the cane? Kelly hurried, no make up, she didn’t want her tears to wash her mascara down her face. Wearing a dark skirt and a loose fitting top, Kelly left the room at 11.58.

Liz was sat as Kelly entered the room. Kelly looked at the coffee table, the cane placed there in readiness. Liz looked the the clock.

“You’re on time. You’ve saved your hands from the cane.”

Kelly’s heart skipped a beat, uncertain of what to say. Shocked my what she saw, Liz had transformed from a happy smiling casually dressed woman to a strict and stern looking matriarch.

Kelly held her hands low, together, her fingers fidgeting with each other. Her mind raced, what was she doing here? She should just turn around and walk out, but this is why she was here. As scary as it was, she needed, she wanted this.

“Take off your skirt, place it neatly on the coffee table,” commanded Liz.

Silently, Kelly obeyed. Her eyes were drawn and glued to the cane that resided on the table beside which she put her skirt. She turned to face Liz, her hands cupped in front of her, wondering at the lack of wisdom of wearing such scanty underwear. Liz picked up the brush and handed it to Kelly.

“Hold this whilst I make myself ready. Take a good look at it.”

Kelly held the brush, old, wooden and heavy. She realised this would be a painful encounter and wondered how many other bottoms it had been applied to. She watched Liz remove her jacket and hang it over the back of the chair. Next she raised her skirt above her stocking tops before she sat down. Finally she rolled up the right sleeve of her blouse. Kelly swallowed hard.

“Come here.”

Kelly walked nervously towards Liz. Liz took the brush from her. Placing it on her lap, she reached forward, put her thumbs in the waist band of Kelly’s panties and pulled them down, telling Kelly to step out of them. Both women understood the ceremony, that of a naughty girl having her knickers taken down prior to her spanking. Liz parted her legs slightly, pulled Kelly closer to her.

“Over my left thigh.”

Kelly hesitated, she remembered what Liz had told her, this was her last chance to back out, that bending over Liz’s thigh was a sign of submission and she was surrendering to the spanking. She bent over the proffered thigh, placing her hands on the carpet, still able to keep her feet on the floor. She lowered herself fully into position, her nose just inches from the carpet, her bared bottom prominent, fully exposed, jack-knifed high over the top of Liz’s thigh.

Kelly didn’t dare to look up, she didn’t see Liz had raised the hairbrush high above head height. Liz brought the brush down hard on Kelly’s sit spots, across her cleft, the sound of the crack of wood against bare flesh echoed around the room. Kelly gasped at its intensity.

Liz waited. The second stroke landed on Kelly’s left cheek, half overlapping the first stroke. Once again Liz waited. The third stroke landed fully on Kelly’s right cheek, again half over lapping the first. The spanking had started slow and methodical, Liz waiting for the pain of each stroke to crescendo to a peak before inflicting the next stroke. With the pain rising, Kelly understood that her bottom was paying homage to a skilled disciplinarian. Kelly tried to remain calm and quiet, her worst fears and her most wanted desires were being realised.

The spanking continued, slow and methodical, batches of three strokes across the full width of Kelly’s bottom, randomly placed. Liz wouldn’t allow Kelly to pre-empt or guess where the brush would deliver its next payload of stinging pain.

Kelly gritted her teeth, determined not to yell or call out for as long as possible. She had tried wriggling but the vice like grip of Liz’s leg on her had kept her bottom where Liz wanted it. Kelly understood; she had surrendered her bottom to Liz. Liz owned her bottom and now it was being soundly spanked.

Liz paused. She looked at the red glow of Kelly’s bottom growing darker by the second; time to change the tempo and increase the vocal accompaniment. Liz spanked Kelly’s left cheek six times in rapid succession. It broke Kelly’s determination. She cried out, and in a futile gesture kicked her feet.

Kelly’s right cheek suffered the same.

The room filled with the sound of wood cracking against bare flesh and the sounds of a woman crying and yelling. This was the only time Liz would allow Kelly to guess where the next spanks were going to land. Kelly knew where the brush was landing next. She tried to kick and struggle to get away, all to no avail, as the brush landed rapidly six times across her cleft, joining the previous dots of pain.

Kelly had howled in pain, the tear dams had burst, rivers of tears meandered their way down Kelly’s cheeks and from the tip of her nose to drip down to the floor. The hairbrush continued it’s war dance in a random and efficient fashion. It’s footsteps were sometimes quick, and sometimes slow, and sometimes the same place twice, but never predictable. The sounds of a thorough spanking filled the room, a crying woman, and the relentless crack of wood against bare flesh.

Kelly’s attempts at struggling had ceased, Liz had spanked the fight out of her her bare bottom, perfectly placed to absorb the continuing rain of spanks, her submission complete. Liz added another 6 spanks to each of Kelly’s cheeks and got little reaction; she understood that Kelly’s bottom was probably numb, and Kelly was feeling little of any further spanking, so it was time to stop.

Liz released the pressure in her leg that trapped Kelly. With the sudden freedom, Kelly slipped from Liz’s thigh, falling to the floor and landing in an undignified and unladylike heap. Her hands grasped her burning cheeks, furiously rubbing at them in a vain attempt to quell the inferno raging within them. She stood up, she bent her knees, she crouched, she cried, her spanky dance continued around the room with no thought for her modesty.

Liz sat back and smiled at Kelly’s display, a testament to her hard work and the power of the hairbrush, reducing a woman to a bawling naughty girl. Now it was time for a naughty girl’s next ritual. Liz rose from her chair. Smoothing her skirt back down, she approached Kelly.

“Right, young lady, it isn’t over yet.” Liz said as she took hold of Kelly’s ear.

Kelly tried to protest, but followed her ear wherever Liz was going to take it. Liz took Kelly out of the living room and into the hall. There she stopped, and left Kelly facing the wall.

“You can stand there. Face the wall, your hands on your head.”

Kelly said nothing, just sobbed and snuffled and did as Liz had commanded her. Nothing had been said, but Kelly understood there would be penalties for disobedience, penalties her bottom couldn’t afford. Her bottom burning and throbbing, her hands on her head, Kelly so desperately wanted to massage and nurse her thoroughly spanked bottom, but found the will power to stay as she was fighting hard against the natural instinct to try to rub better the part of her that was physically hurting.

Just as the sobbing gradually reduced, the doorbell rang. Suddenly Kelly realised that with the front door open she could be seen. Maybe even, the visitor was coming in. She turned to face Liz, horror and pleading written into her facial expression.

“Face the wall and be quiet, unless you want the milkman to know.”

Liz made her way to the front door. Kelly turned her head and watched Liz open the door. To her relief, she realised she was behind the door; the milkman couldn’t see her.

“Good afternoon Fred.”

“Hello Liz, you took your time answering. I was just about to come around the back.”

“You’ll be disappointed to hear, since the last time you came around the back and caught me sun bathing naked, I’ve fitted a bolt to that gate.”

“Aw shucks, oh well, I’ll have to live with the memory of you trying to cover all strategic parts at once and failing to cover anything.”

“Thank you for reminding me Fred. I’ll get my purse. How much do I owe you?”

Kelly was horrified that Liz had left the door partly open as she walked down the hall towards her to collect her purse from a small table. She returned, paid the milkman and closed the door. She walked back towards Kelly.

“All done, go ahead and rub your bottom.”

Kelly didn’t need a second invitation. Her hands rubbed and massaged her punished cheeks.

“I’ll give you a choice,” said Liz. “You can either continue to experience how a naughty girl should feel by getting dressed into your tight fitting trousers, or, find yourself a loose fitting skirt and go commando.”

Liz interrupted Kelly’s frantic rubbing, to inspect the damage she’d done to her bottom.

“Looking at the state of your bottom, I’d opt for the second option. The decision is yours, go get dressed.”

Liz smiled with some satisfaction when Kelly returned wearing a full skirt.

“Commando as well?” Liz asked.

Kelly blushed and admitted to being commando.

“I did try my trousers, but after a few minutes I couldn’t bear it. They just made my bottom burn and throb even worse.”

The rest of the afternoon passed amicably. Kelly determined not to try and sit down. Each invitation to sit that Kelly declined, Liz allowed her to stand, but with her skirt lifted to exhibit Liz’s skills with the hairbrush.

Kelly was curious about the things the milkman had said. She asked Liz if he really had caught her sunbathing nude. Liz admitted it was true.

“He got an eyeful of all I have to offer, but has never said a word about it to anyone else, even though he can be an old gossip. He does though take every opportunity to tease me about it.”

Later Liz suggested going out for a meal. Kelly paled, asking if it was the same pub as the previous night. She thought she’d die of embarrassment if they went back there, and besides that she didn’t think her bottom could endure the car ride. Liz assured Kelly it was a different pub.

“It’s in the village, walking distance.”

Reassured, Kelly agreed.

From the outside Kelly saw a typical picturesque village pub. She hadn’t thought about the inside. Her heart sank when she saw the seating was traditional wooden chairs. She complained to Liz, who replied about not wanting to make a scene. Kelly lowered herself cautiously onto the chair.

Through the meal, Liz smiled at Kelly’s attempts to sit comfortably, fidgeting tilting herself one way or the other.

Liz told her in normal conversation: “Stop fidgeting, do you want everyone to know you’ve had your bottom spanked?”

Kelly froze. She looked around to see if anyone had heard. No one was looking their way. She felt relieved despite blushing furiously.

Liz had one more trick to play. As they left the pub, she led the way, opening the door for Kelly. Kelly walked past to open the outer door. As she did so, Liz checked to see if anyone one was looking. The coast was clear. She quickly lifted Kelly’s skirt and placed a hearty smack on her bare bottom. Kelly squealed.

Suddenly mortified at the thought of who had heard, Kelly made a hasty exit from the porch leaving Liz, smiling, behind.

Kelly spent the night sleeping on her front. The next morning she arrived in the kitchen to find Liz had placed two soft cushions on her chair. Kelly was relieved she didn’t have to sit on a hard chair for breakfast.

After breakfast, Liz shooed Kelly out into the garden.

“Indulge yourself in some nude sunbathing,” she told Kelly.

Kelly was unsure to start with, but the warm morning sun was so enticing she forgot her inhibitions, dis-robed and allowed the sun to caress her nakedness. As she sunbathed, Kelly dozed, she was unaware of Liz being close by. She was rudely awoken from her gentle slumbers by Liz twisting her ear.

“Right young lady, you’re coming with me.”

In a confused state, Kelly, for a second time, was quickly trying to follow where ever Liz was taking her ear. She suddenly found herself face down and bottom up over Liz’s knee, as Liz sat herself on a garden bench. Kelly’s protests and pleading brought no response from Liz. Kelly braced herself, waiting for the first spank. Would it be the hairbrush again?

In her confused state, she hadn’t been able to take anything in. Liz brought her hand down and Kelly screamed as she felt the cold cream applied to her punished cheeks. Then she realised it was a tease, she relaxed and allowed herself to appreciate Liz applying the soothing cream.

The End

© Kane Strokes 2016