Like Daughter, Like Mother

Following on from a previous story, mother and daughter face their disciplinarian

By PW

“I suppose it was when I had got over the initial shock,” said Penny Brown to her daughter, Helen. “It’s not nice to think of a child of your own being treated like that. But then again, as I expect you are about to remind me, you are not a child anymore.”

It was a chat in the kitchen between mother and daughter about a rather unusual incident that had happened a few months earlier. Helen duly answered with a smile.

Indeed, as Mrs Brown had just said, her daughter was not a child any longer; her twentieth birthday was only a matter of a few days away. It was early September and they were talking about their visit to former headmaster James Simmons the previous July, when Helen had undergone a disciplinary session. After a somewhat tense meeting afterwards between the Headmaster and Mrs Brown, following Helen’s quite severe caning, matters had been smoothed out, and more in fact, but after they had got over that day the rest of the summer had rolled pleasantly by them.

The whole Brown family had spent a relaxing fortnight in Spain together and taken a variety of excursions on their return, some to visit relatives, a couple of days in Dorset to be with Mr Brown while he was observing a NATO exercise on Salisbury plain, and a very nice shopping trip to London had between them accounted for a lot of time. Helen had also spent a week with her boyfriend and he had returned and stayed with the Browns, leaving a favourable impression on both of Helen’s parents. A year older than Helen, he had a year in industry coming up, which meant he would no longer be on the University site but he and Helen had worked out a rota for possible weekends they could spend together.

With her Father now away again, back in the United States where he was working as a military attaché at the British Embassy, the house was left to Mrs Brown and Helen, and the discussion was about the invitation they had made to Mr Simmons to come to the house and administer a motivational caning to each of them. Helen had become addicted to corporal punishment at school and had been disciplined a number of times through situations she had deliberately proposed, but her mother finding out that she was secretly returning to the school to be caned had been the most acutely embarrassing episode in her life.

However, after Helen had explained she was using formal discipline to help motivate her, Mrs Brown overcame her anger and, after a while, began to think that she too might benefit from such an arrangement. Indeed, Penny Brown had felt able to confess to her daughter that she had been both strapped and caned herself at school and receiving corporal punishment had brought her sometimes dreamy behaviour to attention. This led Mother and Daughter into a very serious heart to heart talk about the motivational effects of physical discipline and from then on Helen’s embarrassment had faded, but at the same time Penny Brown’s curiosity went on rising.

As a result they hatched a plan for Helen to receive her agreed caning in July, but Mrs Brown would talk to Mr Simmons afterwards and they decided that if after speaking to the Headmaster things were indeed as above board as Helen had said, they would invite him to visit them at their home. In explaining her reasoning to Helen, Penny Brown said she felt she was often slacking during the day. ‘Too easy to have forty winks sometimes,’ she’d thought, and had become quite keen to remind herself of the experience. Not mentioned between either of them was that Mr Simmons was an attractive looking, tall man with strong shoulders, well spoken but strict in manner, clean limbed and very fit. Very nice, but it didn’t really come into it at all.

The agreement had been made for Mr Simmons to visit them at home on Saturday 25th September and that Mrs Brown would call him privately to confirm the week before. The evening before the call was due to be made, Penny Brown was seeking advice from her daughter on what to wear.

“I feel I should make an effort. Whatever I wear will only be between the three of us. It’s not like it will be seen outside, after all.” Mrs Brown was musing to Helen but had already bought a short pleated skirt and had tried it on several times since. However she was still pondering the matter.

Helen replied: “The getting changed part seems to me to be part of the event really.”

To which her mother asked: “Is this all still synonymous with school? It’s strange, but it seems to be like that for me now; bringing back memories I suppose.” She paused for a moment before admitting quietly: “I was in one of the decent clothes shops the other day and I saw a games skirt like the one I used to have at school!” She gave out a short, rather embarrassed laugh. “I bought it on a whim, but I’m not sure about it now.”

“Oh Mum!” Cried Helen excitedly. “Can I see it?”

They shot upstairs and there then followed a long girly exchange of clothes, styles, colours, discussion about shoes, shirts, tights and knickers and it was only when they got to knickers that Mrs Brown was able to ask Helen a question that had been hanging around in her mind for weeks.

“You said you have to take your pants off for the cane,” she said to Helen. “Is that because of school rules or did it just happen?”

Helen paused for a minute. “It was the rules at first; after, it just seemed natural to carry on the same way,” she said.

“Will you, I mean, does Mr Simmons ask you to do that particularly, or does he just ask you to get ready to be caned and that is part of it? I’m not sure what to do,” replied Mrs Brown. For her part, Helen wasn’t sure what to say but her Mum went on: “There’s something else I was thinking. Do you think we should be in the same room? It’s just I feel if I am there while you are being spanked I might want to intervene. At least the first time.”

The fact that her Mother was considering this to be ‘just the first time’ emboldened Helen to propose that her Mum should accept a bare bottom caning, and it was clear that this was what she had been wanting to hear. As to not being in the same room, this was Helen’s preference too, at least the first time. However she was also aware that Mr Simmons would have his own ideas and Helen couldn’t deny that the thought of watching her Mother receive one of Mr Simmons’ special and distinctly painful canings had a certain naughty appeal to it!

The following evening, the Thursday, Mrs Brown rang Mr Simmons at the appointed time and confirmed the arrangements; 2.30PM at the house on Saturday, and that both she and Helen had discussed between themselves what to wear and had chosen school uniform, as long as that was acceptable.

Mr Simmons confirmed it was but it had to be fully authentic, and of course Mrs Brown was quick to agree. Helen was sitting next to her and when the call ended asked her Mum if she was feeling nervous.

“Yes I am, but I am looking forward to it as well.” She paused a moment and said: “I did doubt it a bit and have had second thoughts a few times. I know it will hurt but in many ways that is helping to build the anticipation. What I will feel like just before it happens I really don’t know! But yes, I am looking forward to it. I know the cane stings like the Dickens but, well, no going back now! How are you feeling about it?”

Helen smiled broadly, nodded in agreement and said: “I am too; sometimes I think the more it hurts the more I want it again,” then pursed her lips, shrugged her shoulders and nodded in a positive way.

Then her Mother spoke again: “Maybe we should have a look in the lounge and make sure everything is all right there.”

The lounge was off the hallway, a good sized room where the TV and DVD were stationed along with the settee and chairs and with some net curtains over the window. They had already moved a tall stool in from the kitchen and put one of the dining chairs against one wall.

“I think this will be OK,” said Penny Brown, Helen agreeing as they smiled at each other, and then Helen excused herself to her room to get on with some course reading before having a glass of wine with Mum as they watched television together later on that evening.

Saturday dawned and Mrs Brown went out shopping in the morning while Helen continued with her University work. Both were quite edgy by lunchtime as they sat in the kitchen, nervously trying to eat a light lunch.

“One for the butterflies,” said Mrs Brown, trying to smile, as she took a small nibble at some salad.

Helen’s watery smile indicated she was experiencing butterflies of her own.

Penny said she would get changed only after Mr Simmons arrived in case anyone else came to the door, although that was unlikely, and they went back to talking about clothes.

“What do you think he’ll say if I am wearing white knickers?” She asked Helen, mischievously.

“Extra stroke of the cane probably, Mum,” said Helen, in a matter-of-fact tone. “Maybe two.”

Their eyes met and they both laughed. The time was ticking on and for Penny in particular the nerves were mounting, her mouth had gone dry and she was conscious her pulse was racing.

After Helen disappeared upstairs to get changed, Penny went into the lounge and pushed one of the armchairs back to clear some space, bringing an occasional table forward and bringing another kitchen chair in to put behind it for Mr Simmons to sit at. Then she fiddled about with the stool again, making sure it was right in the centre of the room. It had a bar near the bottom and she bent herself right over it, trying to imagine the cane landing on her bottom and inflicting its crisp sting.

It had been many years since the end of her schooldays but as the situation with Helen had unfolded she realised she must have been harbouring a latent interest about corporal punishment from those days. Despite feeling quite worked up, she was also very excited and kept looking at the time, and wishing Mr Simmons would hurry up.

She was also replaying what Helen had said to her over and over in her mind. “If you are wearing white knickers you will probably get an extra stroke of the cane.”

Out of sheer devilment she decided that when she went upstairs to get changed it would be white bikini briefs that she slipped on. ‘Do your worst, Mr Simmons!’ she thought to herself. It made her smile. Where could he be? It was twenty past two. She was looking forward to bending over for the cane and the suspense was killing!

Helen was changed now and came down wearing the short skirt her Mum had made for her. She made a little face as they had a nervous clutch together.

Penny smiled at her daughter. “I’ll meet him at the door and explain that I will need to get changed while you are getting him a cup of tea,” she said. “I can’t get changed yet in case Mrs Bryan calls around.”

Mrs Bryan was their neighbour and the only person remotely likely to knock on the door.

“Pretty unlikely, Mum,” was Helen’s reply, but she too was feeling the tension now. They went to wait in the lounge, trying to talk but finding it hard. The stool seemed to completely dominate the room.

The surreal mood was broken by the strident ring of the doorbell, causing both women to have palpitations. Mrs Brown went to answer it, Helen waiting just inside the lounge as they had agreed, but emerging as soon as she heard her mother say: “Hello Mr Simmons, do come in.”

As he and Penny Brown exchanged pecks and a light hug, Helen was able to say: “Hello Mr Simmons,” herself, to which he replied with a smile.

“Hello Helen, it’s nice to see you again. That a non–regulation skirt?” Which brought further, rather forced, smiles from all three.

“I decided I’d better not get changed too early, just in case someone else knocked at the door, Headmaster.”

Helen was a bit surprised at the respectful way her mother spoke.

“Helen will get you a cup of tea while I just hurry off upstairs. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

With that, Helen led Mr Simmons into the kitchen, noting that he left his ‘map case’ in the hallway. Little doubt as to what it contained!

Mrs Brown was changed and back down before the kettle had even boiled. Mr Simmons, Helen and herself sat around the kitchen table, the part–drawn curtains offering privacy against the immodestly short skirts, the hem of which Mrs Brown tugged at rather more than Helen.

Tea poured, there followed about ten minutes of forced conversation, led by Mrs Brown and Mr Simmons, where he outlined his plans for the afternoon. He said he would deal with them individually, as Penny Brown had thought, and asked what had driven them to wear what amounted to school uniform. He admitted he had expected Helen to be wearing uniform, but expressed surprise that Penny Brown had adopted it as well. However, Mrs Brown defended her choice by saying that she felt it appropriate to make an effort to match the occasion and then, to Helen’s surprise, went on to ask Mr Simmons if uniform faults would be taken into account when calculating the level of punishment meted out.

Mr Simmons picked up the implied request and agreed in the affirmative, stating that Helen would be receiving two extra strokes for her non–regulation skirt. Mrs Brown, for her part, said nothing but Helen guessed what her Mother had done. Mother was in for a surprise from her daughter in return.

Mr Simmons then produced a punishment book and said it would be used to record whatever went on and would be asking both ladies to sign it after punishment, “to keep us all completely honest,” although he also said it would have initials written down, and the “reason” for punishment would be “motivational purposes”, to which both quickly agreed.

Mr Simmons placed his now empty cup down and spoke with more bearing.

“What I propose to do here is that I will see each of you in turn. The first time will be for a preliminary punishment with a lighter cane. I will administer four strokes to you, Mrs Brown, then six to your daughter Helen. When I have completed this session I will request you remain outside the room while I complete some notes. This is in a form of shorthand that I have developed myself. I would think it is fairly indecipherable. I will then call you back in, Mrs Brown, for a further four strokes and Helen for six strokes, both with the senior cane. We will then follow the same procedure as I write my notes, then I will ask you in for signing. What I propose to do then is to deal with any procedural matters, or, as you have proposed Mrs Brown, uniform faults, with you both present at the same time. Is this acceptable? Mrs Brown? Helen?”

Penny Brown responded straight away. “Certainly Headmaster,” she said, looking at Helen, who agreed with a nod of her head. “We thought using the lounge would be the best. Headmaster, let me take you in there,” and Penny led Mr Simmons to the next room, outside which Mrs Brown had earlier left two of their dining chairs and inside which the layout was quite obvious.

Mr Simmons picked up his map case on passing back through the hallway and opened it in the lounge, making Penny Brown shiver as he withdrew two canes and two straps, one of which she saw was a thick and supple two tailed tawse, a type of strap that she’d had the experience of receiving many years ago.

She shivered again as Mr Simmons looked back at her and said: “Thank you, Mrs Brown, this is very good,” and walked with her to just outside the room before indicating the chairs to both Mother and daughter. He went back into the room and closed the door. Both now sat on the chairs, the tension at near breaking point. They looked at each other but could not speak. Penny Brown could feel her heart thumping but her mind was blank. She instinctively pulled at the hem of her skirt again, aware she was showing a very generous amount of thigh for a married woman.

The silence went on and on, three minutes, four minutes. What was going on? Then the door was opened quickly and James Simmons said: “Helen Brown.”

Helen, with a glance at her Mother, stood up and went inside, the door being purposely not quite closed this time.

Penny Brown listened as though her life depended on it. She quietly got up and tried to look inside, but the door was not opened enough; she could hear but not see. She remained standing, close to the door. Mr Simmons was discussing the discipline awarded with her daughter in a low but audible voice. She heard him say that there would be two additional strokes later for the short skirt infringement. Then her heart seemed to nearly burst as the Headmaster swished the cane through the air and told her daughter to lift her skirt and take her panties down, then bend over the stool.

What happened next was unexpected. She heard James Simmons ask Helen what was the meaning of appearing in white panties. Had she not been so tense, Penny Brown would have smiled. She nearly did anyway. ‘The total minx,’ she thought.

“Sorry Sir,” was all Helen said, before being told that there would be an additional two stroke penalty later. Then there was another short silence broken by the light rustle of Helens’ clothes being adjusted, a creak from the stool, followed perhaps ten or so seconds later by the unmistakable sound of the cane swishing through the air, followed by the dull thwick of impact. Afterwards, there was nothing, no sound at all.

Penny Brown could scarcely breathe and she could feel her pulse, hear it in her ears, pounding away. She was afraid to move in case Mr Simmons heard her. The silence was building and building again, becoming crushing, deafening. Seconds turned to hours. There was another swish, another thwick, followed by a heavy gasp from her daughter, but then nothing, just another silence.

The third stroke did bring a louder cry out of Helen, but no more, and it was the same for the fourth stroke. Never in her life had Mrs Brown heard her house so quiet. The only sound was her heart which she was sure Mr Simmons would be able to hear.

She shifted on her feet; in just another couple of minutes she knew it would be her turn to present her bottom to Mr Simmons, to bend tightly over the stool with her panties down and her skirt lifted onto her back and to receive the cane herself. She hoped she could be as stoical as her daughter, as another unmistakeable swish caused Helen to suck her breath in loudly and gasp it out, more loudly this time as she tried to absorb the smarting impact. Then there was nothing again; just the cutting silence.

Penny tried to count but her mind had gone blank until she heard the cane swish again and another, sharper cry came from her daughter as it stung its target. This time Penny could not help herself and put her hands under her short skirt and onto her own bottom cheeks to give them a hard squeeze. She knew it was nearly her turn to experience again what being caned was like.

Suddenly Mr Simmons told Helen to get up and adjust her clothes, then after a few seconds she heard her daughter thank Mr Simmons for caning her. The door opened; Mrs Brown hugged her daughter tightly, temporarily unaware of Mr Simmons standing in the doorway. He did not speak for a few moments until Helen disentangled herself, then he caught Mrs Brown’s eye and requested she follow him inside, telling Helen to sit and wait. Again on closing the door he left a small gap so that sound could escape and Helen heard him tell her mother to stand in front of him for a moment.

Penny Brown’s mind was now a complete whirl and she simply did as she was bidden; Mr Simmons explained that she was going to receive four strokes with the standard cane, used mainly for first offenders, but the thicker cane would be used next. He went on to say this was reserved for more senior girls or repeat offences, or in this case to serve as a more powerful motivational spur.

He then asked Mrs Brown if she had any questions and Helen heard her Mum say in a very demure voice: No Headmaster,” after which Mr Simmons said: “In that case, please bend right over the stool. Take your panties down and raise your skirt. If you try to avoid the strokes or make an excessive fuss I will add extra because you have asked to undergo a formal caning and you must respect the situation and act with bravery and dignity.”

Mrs Brown answered by saying: “Yes headmaster,” and felt herself blushing furiously as she self consciously reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down before lifting up her skirt and bending over the stool as ordered. She had completely forgotten about her white panties.

“I will speak to you about your underwear later, Mrs Brown,” was all Mr Simmons said as Penny felt the cane lightly touch her bottom.

The stroke was being measured, then she felt it tap her lightly. Her breath choked in her throat as another tap came, before she heard the swish and felt the cane hit her, followed half a second later by an agonising flash of pain that made her gasp out loud and nearly stand up in shock. She could not help tensing up her bottom muscles as she tried to absorb the pain, but then after a few seconds she felt the cane rest on her again, causing her to keep still and hold her breath, waiting for the second stroke which followed quickly, leaving another hot stripe that forced her to tense up again and breathe out hard to avoid crying out.

She forced herself to take a slow breath before the cane rested against her again, pausing for a few seconds before it returned with a venomous hiss to sting her bottom so fiercely that she cried out and exhaled slowly and deliberately as she struggled to maintain control.

She was dimly aware that she had only one more to come and that soon it would be over. As she felt the steadying touch said to herself: ‘only one more, only one more.’

Then there was the swish and the whippy cane landed on her bare bottom, giving her another stinging line of fiery pain. She could feel each one now as a distinct throbbing, but she was able to stay in position until Mr Simmons told her to rise and adjust her clothes. Her bottom was burning. How on earth did Helen take canings like this?

She stood up when told to, pulled up her panties, tugged her skirt back into place and followed Mr Simmons to the door. She turned to face him for a second and thanked him for the caning. Then he asked her to sit down before telling both women he was returning to the room to write his notes and they were to sit in silence until called in again.

Mrs Brown met Helen’s eyes and tried to smile, but she gave a quick massage to her well warmed bottom before sitting down as told. Helen took her hand and gave her Mum an encouraging smile.

“Stings a lot,” mouthed Penny, and Helen nodded back.

After another minute or so Penny stood up to give her bottom another massage before Helen tried to pull her back down. Too late! At just that moment Mr Simmons appeared at the door.

“You were told to sit still, Mrs Brown,” he said, treating her to a commanding stare. “After we complete the procedure we will then discuss these breaches. For now, Helen, please come into the office.”

Helen stood up and followed her former Headmaster, her mother mouthing “good luck” to her as the door was not-quite-closed again. Within a few seconds. Mrs Brown’s pulse soared as she heard Mr Simmons telling Helen that she was going to receive six strokes with the senior cane and to take down her panties, lift her skirt and bend right over the stool.

Mrs Brown listened, rapt but helpless, as the cane swished through the air; she heard the distinctive sound of the cane hitting her daughter’s bottom; the thwicks, the cries and gasps and heavy breathing from Helen. The time between strokes seemed longer and Penny Brown was aware her heart was still thumping just as hard as earlier; she tried to swallow but couldn’t. Soon it would be her turn to bend over the stool with her panties down, submitting her bare bottom to the cane again, feeling the scorching burn as the rod was applied slowly and with venom; she knew it was coming, knew there was nothing she could do about it other than try her best to cope with it and not let her daughter down.

Suddenly she heard Mr Simmons order Helen to stand and adjust her clothing, then a rustle indicated they were approaching the door. Helen came out with tears in her eyes and her hands pressed against her bottom; again Mum and daughter hugged tightly before Helen was ordered to sit down and Mrs Brown instructed to follow Mr Simmons into the office. He wasted little time, turning to address her, telling her that in this second part of the disciplinary proceedings she would receive a further caning on her bare bottom. He explained again, briefly, that the dragon cane he was going to use was for dealing with more serious breaches of discipline or for more senior students and she would receive four strokes. He then instructed her to lower her panties again, lift up her skirt and bend right over the stool, reminding her as she was slipping her panties down that she was to remain in position once the caning started.

Helen felt the cane rest against her as Mr Simmons made his measuring stroke. Breathlessly, she nearly yelped at this light touch, knowing the impact was just a split second away. Then it arrived, an intense flash of pain again burning her, seeming to go right though her, completely taking her breath away. She could not help but cry out, just a little, but was determined to stay in position.

Then the measuring touch came again, followed by the cane stroke that seemed to burn really hard and drive every ounce of breath from her body. She heard a voice crying out somewhere in the distance, realising it was her but she remained bent over the stool, paralysed, waiting for further strokes of the cane to bite her.

After a few seconds the steadying touch came again, then a tap, then a straight and hard whack gave her a new surge of intense stinging pain that caused Penny Brown to rock about on her feet and desperately tense her whole lower body in an attempt to cope with the severe smart from the senior cane.

‘Only one left,’ she thought to herself as she forced a slow breath, steadying herself and offering her bottom for further punishment, which quickly arrived as the final stroke of the four awarded. Another line of pain forced a sharp tensing of her whole lower body as the fiery burn in her bottom built to a near-intolerable level.

A voice, a long way away, told her to get up and get dressed. She did so, remembering again to thank Mr Simmons for caning her. She was surprised at her own voice, steady and clear despite her hot and sore bottom, yet she also felt a first flush of pleasure at having taken her two canings and survived without tears, not too much fuss; not embarrassing her daughter, who stood up and hugged her as she came out of the study, followed by Mr Simmons.

“Oh, it stings doesn’t it!” She said and heard in reply: “Mum, well done,” whispered into her ear by Helen.

Mr Simmons, finely attuned to what was going on, said he would now complete his paperwork and asked the ladies to take a seat. He left the door more open this time and sat on his chair, finding the table a little low but using it anyway, writing up in shorthand what had just happened.

He considered that, unless there was some steer from either Helen or her Mother, then he would let the white panties matter go this time, along with Helen’s very short skirt. Mother and daughter together were in a high emotional state and he wondered whether Mrs Brown could take more, although he knew Helen could.

He rapidly completed his notes and called Mrs Brown and her daughter inside, telling them what the shorthand meant; that the caning had been for motivational purposes only, and this was clearly stated, that ‘Mrs B1’ had received four strokes of the regular cane, ‘R’, ‘MsB2’ six, all VI-VI (representing ‘Bare bottom’, explained Mr Simmons) and then ‘MrsB1’ had a further four strokes, D1 (dragon cane), ‘MsB2’ six. The final column was F and it was explained that this was for issues that had happened during the day (Faults) with a 4 for both Helen and ‘MrsB1’.

He asked Mrs Brown to initial, and then Helen. Mrs Brown noticed that this was not page one and, despite her bottom still being quite hot, was curious as she could see writing on a number of earlier pages. It was Helen who spoke next, however, asking Mr Simmons if he was going to use the same order for dealing with the faults and Mrs Brown, to her surprise heard her own voice adding a “yes” to Helen’s question. Mr Simmons was not surprised to hear from Helen but her Mother had readily approved of the question so he quickly decided to continue.

“An additional four strokes each,” he said, his words making both women shiver.

Suddenly Mrs Brown felt a powerful but very pleasant surge through her loins, another caning! She was instantly looking forward to it, and to being in the room with her daughter this time, watching each other, supporting each other.

“Mrs Brown, you will go first. I take it that you are both happy to proceed according to what I outlined earlier?”

There was a nod from Mrs Brown, who turned to look at Helen.

Helen said simply: “Yes Headmaster,” and Mr Simmons then said: “Take a seat, Helen. Mrs Brown, please bend over the stool with your bare bottom presented. I am going to administer four further strokes of the cane. The rules are the same, you must remain in position until the punishment is complete.”

Penny Brown did as she was told, aware her daughter would see her hindquarters bared for the cane, and likely the marks its earlier visits had made on her. She held her breath again as Mr Simmons lightly tapped her and then there was the swish and the thwick as the cane stroke arrived; the same slashing pain instantly causing her mind to blur, whitened out by the severe sting. Then, as she recovered, she felt the same tap, heard the same devilish swish, felt the surge of hurt. She drew in her breath through her tensed lips, slowly, agonisingly, until another tap signified another impending stroke. She closed her eyes but did not have to wait long. Swish, whack, it went.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” She felt herself saying, and needing to draw another intense breath. She braced herself for the final cut. It arrived, and it hurt just as much as the others. Mrs Brown knew better than to do anything, but the command to stand up and adjust her clothes came quickly.

Helen Brown couldn’t wait and flung her arms around her mother, hugging her tightly. “Mum Mum!” She said, as Penny Brown was able to say: “I’m all right, Helen,” to her, gasping slightly for breath.

Mr Simmons waited a couple of minutes for them to separate and indicated with his eyes, and the cane, that Helen should now occupy the place left by her Mother, as Penny Brown very carefully sat down.

Mrs Brown was in a trance really and, although she felt a tremor go through her at the sight of her daughter’s well marked bottom, she had at least seen such before. Mr Simmons slowly applied four more strokes of the cane; Penny rose to hug her daughter and both had tears in their eyes as they met.

Mr Simmons said nothing as he packed his equipment away. Despite the serious burning in her bottom, Mrs Brown never forget her manners, and offered Mr Simmons a cup of tea. He declined however, thinking it was better to leave the ladies alone to talk and recover. He did ask to use the bathroom, Penny Brown directing him upstairs while Helen headed to the kitchen and to a bowl of iced water she had left in the fridge for use while the kettle boiled.

As they disappeared, Mrs Brown sneaked a look at the punishment book left on the table. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened it. Every other page was blank. She saw page 15 was for her and Helen, but page 13 was a visit during the summer to ‘MrsPH’ and ‘MsAH’ with ‘St’ ‘TT’ ‘R’ and ‘D2’ all in use, and liberally too. Page 1 was a description of ‘MrsCC’ who, in the shorthand, had received six strokes from the standard cane some months earlier. Page 11 was a similar session, a caning for ‘MsSF’ that had happened at the end of July and ‘MrsPH’ appeared again in June.

“Quite a round he has,” mused Penny, who noticed that pages 17 and 19 were not blank either. He had an appointment on Friday 1st ‘MrsSA’ at 7.30PM, then ‘PH’ and ‘AH’ on Saturday 2nd.

‘Wow!’ She thought, quickly closing the book and then deciding to have a quick look at the strap and tawse that were in the map case. She ran the tawse though her fingers, smelling the leather, then reaching behind herself to give her bottom a light whack. ‘Mmm,’ she thought. Despite the burning feeling left by the cane, the tawse felt good in her hands. She lightly whacked herself again, wondered what her bottom would feel like after receiving a proper punishment from it. She quickly put it back in the map case and headed to the kitchen as a heavy footfall on the stairs announced the reappearance of Mr Simmons.

She turned around to greet him but he did not delay, collecting his belongings and saying he hoped that the ladies were satisfied with the event and that it would have the effect they were hoping for. He knew, of course, that Helen was quite used to this level of discipline and from her attitude he guessed she had quite possibly been looking for more than he had prescribed. Both ladies murmured a shy agreement before Mrs Brown took him to the door, closing it firmly as he stepped out.

She stood at the kitchen table sipping tea, Helen having first use of the bathroom but leaving the bowl of iced water out. She felt she was settling down now, and was glad it was over. On Helen’s return, she remembered to ask who ‘MsSF’ or ‘MrsPH’ might be, but no names came up at the time. It was actually in bed later that Helen suddenly thought one of these might be Stephanie French; the thought made her smile.

Penny Brown mooched through the rest of the day. She knew never to make decisions when she was ‘in a state’ so let time burble by, her and Helen supporting each other and seeing something of a funny side to it by the time bedtime came around, rather more than a single full bottle of wine later.

Helen left for University at the end of the next week, the marks only just faded away, her bonds with her Mum stronger than ever. Mrs Brown’s cane marks were almost gone too. Somehow she had become very attached to them and had looked at them endlessly during the week. Later she wrote up her recollections; this is Penny Brown’s verdict of her motivational caning:

After I had got over the terrible shock of seeing the cane marks on my daughter’s bottom it still took me a while to accept her explanation of why and how it happened and to believe that she had herself sought the caning. It did set me thinking though. However before doing anything else I wanted to be completely clear in my mind that Helen was absolutely telling the truth, and that this man did not have some sort of hold over her, and particularly that there was nothing sexual involved. Helen had wanted to see him again and pleaded with me to be allowed to do so, so the Saturday at the school went ahead, but by that time I had decided that if the man held up when I questioned him then I would like to join my daughter and take a session of motivational discipline alongside her. Helen was quite taken by this and readily agreed; I think she found it quite funny, but I suppose with Mr Brown being away such a lot we are maybe closer than the average Mother and Daughter.

So it duly happened. I had been in two minds about what to wear. I knew if I insisted I would be able to keep my panties on. I suppose like all married women some parts of me are intensely private and for my husband’s eyes only, but I knew Helen preferred to receive the cane on her bare bottom, so I just went along with it.

I was very nervous beforehand, yet strangely I found I was also looking forward to it. Helen helped me a lot and I know there was a bit of devil in me too, dressing as a schoolgirl. I found that I enjoyed dressing up (but what woman doesn’t?) and tried on the uniform several times when Helen was out of the house. I have done so again since and have added a plain short skirt and some authentic grey socks with school type banding at the top!

I have to say Mr Simmons was extremely professional in the way he dealt with us. We had no wiggle room at all; the instructions were clear and staccato. “Follow me” enter the room, face him, clear instructions given; “panties down, skirt up,” and then the cane was applied. It stung far more than I ever thought and afterwards I had the same sort of marks I had seen on my daughter’s bottom. However as I recovered after taking what was quite a severe caning I actually felt pleased I had done it.; maybe a strange thing to say but there was an energy about my life along the lines of what Helen had said to me those months before.

She said that the benefits of being caned only begin to appear two or three days after, and from then on I would look back on it very positively. I doubted her until this did indeed happen. There is a mixture of feelings beforehand, some very strong; fear at the event, but enormous relief afterwards. There is no doubt that receiving the cane was extremely painful but it does help with motivation. So much so that, with Helen’s agreement, I have invited Mr Simmons to come over on the last Saturday of November, it’s the 27th I think, to administer ten strokes of the tawse to my bottom. After seeing this lovely instrument and holding it I became insatiably curious and actually very keen to know what it would feel like if administered by an experienced disciplinarian! This requirement was quite specific on my part; last year I was very late in starting to get our family Christmas organised and I was running about like a demon right up to the day itself. I am hoping that by having a formal disciplinary session at the end of November I will be better motivated to get cracking early. I am both excited about it and at the same time dreading it! Helen of course has her own needs and Mr Simmons will visit us again early in January primarily to see her, but almost certainly this visit will see him discipline us both again, something Helen and I are already really looking forward to. This new activity in my life is quite stimulating, giving me something naughty but nice to look forward to. In some ways, I can hardly wait to meet Mr Simmons again. Neither can my daughter!

The End

© PW 2018


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