A girl on holiday breaks the rules

By Dr Paddle

Cecilia lifted the brass hook on the top of the wooden gates and entered the Sunrise apartment complex. She’d been staying with her mother in the family apartment on the small Mediterranean island for nearly a fortnight and was returning to the gated community from a night out at the local tapas bar. Having had an argument with a local boy, who she quite liked the look of, she was fuming and had left and walked the 300 yards back at a quick pace.

A few weeks short of her 18th birthday, Cecilia was an attractive brunette, standing at 5ft 8in. Her body looked nicely tanned in her light blue bikini and she’d taken to wearing the bottoms back to front, as was the current fashion, in order for her firm, ample buttocks to be noticed. Over her bikini for the night out she’d put on a plain blue and white dress which went down to mid-thigh. The pool lights were off, which meant it was already past 11.00 pm and was therefore out of bounds until 8.00 am the following day. This was a rule Cecilia thought was quite ridiculous, but as her mother was chair of the apartments’ committee and was the instigator of the new rule, she knew it was voted through in order that residents and visitors could get to sleep without drunken youngsters making a noise and splashing around late at night. The owners of each apartment were now responsible for their family and visitors in terms of enforcing the rule, and a fine was to be levied for infractions.

Cecilia was hot and annoyed, and thought a lovely cool swim would be just what she needed. She slipped her dress off and walked down the blue tiled steps into water. The moon was full and big in the sky and its reflection sparkled off the ripples as she entered. She was careful to be very quiet as she swam up and down the length of the pool, which took her mind off the stupid, but rather handsome, boy at the bar. No-one would hear here and she wasn’t drunk or raucous, so no harm done. As she emerged from the pool to grab her dress and return to the apartment for a shower, she was startled to see Mr Blackman standing there with her dress and a towel in one hand and his mobile phone in the other.

“Hi, Cecilia,” he smiled. “A nice swim, I take it? Although, it’s well after 11.00 pm and that’s against your mother’s rules, I think.”

Mr Blackman was owner of one of the apartments and had bought it years ago. He’d known Cecilia’s grandpa very well as they were original owners from the time the apartments had been built in the early 1980s. He was great fun around the complex, always laughing and joking, but he was old school.

“What the heck!” Cecilia looked at him with his mobile phone in hand. She realised not only had he caught her out, but had the whole episode videoed on his phone. “Please?” she blurted out.

“Please,what?” retorted Mr Blackman. “Please don’t tell your mother as she’d be fined and, of course, humiliated at the next committee meeting if everyone sees this video?” He smiled in a very self-satisfied way.

“Look,” said Cecilia. “Can we come to an arrangement so my mum doesn’t find out? It would be so embarrassing for her, having to pay a fine and explain that her family was the first to break the new swimming pool rule.”

“Dry yourself off and let’s go to my apartment and discuss the terms,” Mr Blackman suggested. He handed Cecilia the towel.

Cecelia took the towel and dried herself as they walked back to Mr Blackman’s apartment. It wasn’t far, and inside it looked in need of some modernisation.

“As an ex-schoolmaster, one who taught in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I know exactly how to deal with young boys and girls who break the rules. In my opinion, a bit more old-fashioned discipline is required today, don’t you think? Now, give me that towel and stand up straight with your hands on your head.”

Cecilia did what she was told and was perfectly aware of how ridiculous she looked. She wished for all the world that she had worn her bikini bottoms the right way round. She tried to think of a way out of the mess, but nothing came to mind. Everything she thought of would just have made matters worse. So, she stood in the middle of the room like a naughty little schoolgirl.

Mr Blackman left the room with the towel, which he put back in the bathroom and returned with a cane; a straight-handled cane about the diameter of a little finger. It seemed to have no give in it and was a good 24 inches long. He held it in front of Cecilia’s eyes.

“This, my girl, is a senior school cane and I had the pleasure of teaching some girls and boys a few manners with it before it was banned from use in schools in the UK. Six strokes of this will leave marks across your bottom for a few days, and that would not be appropriate right now whilst you are on holiday. When do you leave to return to the UK?”

“Oh, please, no. Not the cane, Mr Blackman. The stories my grandpa tells about being thrashed at school and at home in the olden days are appalling. Please?”

“Sure. Let’s show your mother the video tomorrow, then.”

“No, no. Alright, I’ll take the cane. We leave on Friday, just after midday.”

“Perfect. Your grandpa would approve, I’m sure, as he often gave your mother a good spanking years ago. Be here at 10.00 am on Friday. The rules are that you will have one item of clothing to protect your bottom. So, I suggest you wear something more appropriate than this outfit.” He looked at her bikini. “You will bend over and receive six with the cane. After your punishment, you can watch as I fully delete the video of you swimming. I assure you I will not have stored it anywhere or backed it up. You will then be free to leave and enjoy your flight home.”

“Yes, sir,” Cecilia mumbled.

“Good. Now as a reminder to turn up, I will smack your bottom before you leave.”

Mr Blackman then spanked Cecilia’s bottom three times as she stood in the middle of the room, hands on her head. Her buttocks wobbled as his hard, firm hand impacted her young, firm, flesh and she yelped.

“Keep your hands on your head, girl,” he instructed and continued with the spanking, noting that her ample buttocks made a very impressive target.

Cecilia’s bottom felt sore with each impact as the sun had already burnt the skin during her sun-bathing that afternoon, and she wriggled and yelped as quietly as she could.

The spanking continued and Mr Blackman lectured Cecilia about rules and how badly behaved the youth of today were, and how he’d seen her mother’s bare bottom over her grandpas’ knee at her age. Once he’d finished, he handed over her dress, which Cecilia gratefully received and put on.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” he said, and smiled as picked up the cane.

Cecilia had no idea why, but she thanked him as she left with her bottom smarting, but she did. When she got back to her apartment, her buttocks looked a little bit redder than the colour the sun had caused, but not too noticeable. She’d be OK to sunbathe for the rest of the week, but maybe with bikini bottoms on the right way round.

Friday morning came, and Cecelia got up, showered, dressed and had packed by 9.30 am. She put on a pair of light blue, full-fitting, cotton knickers and a pair of denim cut-off shorts. She was hoping she could keep the shorts on for her appointment with the cane. But inside, she somehow doubted it. Her mother was nowhere to be seen, although her suitcase was also packed and on her bed. Cecilia had a coffee from the pot her mother had made, and waited. At 9.45 am, her mother came through the door, smiled and bid her good morning.

“I’m going to say goodbye to a few friends,” Cecelia said.

Her mother smiled and told her to be back by 11.00 am, but had a strange knowing look in her eyes.

Cecilia arrived at Mr Blackman’s apartment at exactly 10.00 am. She knocked. He opened the door and she entered his lounge for the second time that week. In the middle of the room was a square, leather-topped stool standing about 12 inches high. Beyond that was a TV, and playing on it was the video of Cecelia taking her dress off and entering the pool. She looked on in horror as it became clear Mr Blackman’s phone was connected and he was clearly reminding her of her misdemeanor and the evidence.

“OK, let’s get on with this, young lady. Pull those shorts down unless you have no knickers on underneath.”

Cecilia thought about asking to keep them on, but had looked at a couple of spanking websites since her last visit and wanted to avoid what seemed to be described as ‘extras’. She lowered her denim shorts to her ankles to reveal her light blue knickers which offered her very little protection.

“Hands on the top of the stool, please, and make sure your legs are straight.”

Cecilia complied and bent over, very aware her bottom was now stuck out and in the air, ready to meet its fate. She was slightly comforted that her knickers covered her modesty, at least partly, and obviously more so than her bikini bottoms did. She lifted her head and could clearly see the video of her swimming session playing on a loop.

Mr Blackman took the cane off the table and held it so Cecilia could see it. She hadn’t noticed it when she had walked it.

“You can watch the video as you are being punished, and hopefully this will remind you to behave in future,” he said as he moved behind her and tapped her bottom lightly with the cane.

Then there was a swish and a crack. Cecilia was mystified as she felt no pain at all until a fraction of a second after the cracking sounding ended, and then the pain seared across the centre of her bottom. She stood, danced and rubbed her bottom before being told to get back down and into position. A red line appeared from the side of her knickers.

The second stroke was lower and again the swish and crack was followed by another searing line of pain which caused Cecilia to gasp, but she remained with her hands on the stool and bottom well-presented and ready for the next stroke.

The third stroke came 10 seconds later, with what sounded like a quicker swish-crack. It hit lower down her bottom towards the crease between buttocks and legs, and the pain was again as intense causing her to grunt hard and breath harder.

“Halfway there, Cecilia. You are doing well and I hope you are learning a lesson. It is brave of you to avoid the public embarrassment your mother would have suffered should your misbehaviour have been shared.” He pointed at the TV with the dreadful implement and then moved back to take up his position.

Another swish-crack came soon after. This hit the crease and caused Cecilia to cry out and dance around again, rubbing her bottom low down. She could feel the ridges across her bottom and Mr Blackman could now see the straight lines as her knickers moved out of position to reveal her bare bottom. He certainly hadn’t lost his touch, he thought.

Swish-crack; the fifth stroke was across the centre of her bottom and felt like a swarm of bees stinging the flesh as it fell between the first two strokes and increased the soreness in that area by a significant amount.

Traditionally, the last stroke was the hardest, and Mr Blackman did not disappoint. He applied a very firmly delivered diagonal stroke intersecting across the other lines, thus completing the five-bar gate effect. Cecelia was in tears and yelped and danced again. The angry gate across her bottom was revealed and would be imprinted there for quite a few days.

“Pull up your shorts, madam,” Mr Blackman instructed.

Cecelia grabbed her shorts, pulled them up quickly and looked at Mr Blackman as she winced when the tight shorts disturbed the ridges across her bottom, which now felt sore and swollen.

“I hope a lesson has been learnt here and that you have time to reflect on your antics as you fly home.”

Mr Blackman then proceeded to unplug his camera from the TV and, true to his word, the video was deleted.

“You are dismissed.”

Cecilia winced, then turned as she reached the door.

“Thank you, Mr Blackman, for not embarrassing my mother,” she said as she left.

Both mother and daughter were oddly quiet as they headed to the airport. On boarding the plane, Cecilia sat down and winced as her bottom throbbed. She wished she’d put a dress on rather than her tight shorts. She’d know next time, but sincerely hoped there would not be one.

Her mother sat down next to her and let out a quiet whimper of pain. Cecilia looked at her mother who smiled, held her hand and looked back with a knowing nod. Cecelia suddenly realised that her mother must have also visited Mr Blackman that very morning.

“Six?” Cecilia enquired.

“Twelve,” her mother whispered. “Less embarrassing when the committee next meets.”

The End

© Dr Paddle 2022

Readers can contact this author at:  dbrown6ofbest@gmail.com