“See you at football practice after school,” called out Sophia to her best friend, Emily, as they passed in the corridor heading for their next lessons.

“I’m not going to football practice,” snapped Emily, rather testily.

“Why not?” exclaimed Sophia. “The team for Saturday’s match will be chosen and if you’re not there Mr Jessop won’t select you.”

“I don’t want to see Mr Jessop after Mrs Jessop caned me,” responded Emily rather sulkily.

“That doesn’t make sense Em. It’s not Mr Jessop’s fault his wife gave you the cane.”

“He’ll be sniggering and making comments,” pouted Emily.

Sophia could see her friend was upset and tried to comfort her.

“If he tries anything I’ll confront him. I’ll accidentally kick the ball in his crown jewels,” offered Sophia, the prospect of which at least brought a smile to Emily.

“Can’t ask you to try any such thing, Soph. But it’s not just Mr Jessop. You saw how much I got teased in the showers this morning. Everyone wanting to inspect and touch those six red welts across my bum. I’m not going through that again.”

“Not everyone, Em. Most of us were supportive. We knew you were unfairly whacked.”

“Mrs Jessop phoned my mum before giving me the cane to confirm mum was OK with it. According to Jessop, mum not only agreed but said I would be in for a thrashing when I get home. So, no. I’m not going to practice tonight.”

“That’s tough, but my advice is to come to practice, get selected for Saturday and delay seeing your Mum for an hour.”

“Nah. Need to get it out of the way. See you tomorrow, Soph.”

So instead of the enjoyment of showing off her undoubted dribbling, passing and shooting skills at football practice and being selected for Saturday’s big match, Emily dejectedly trudged home to face her unsympathetic mother. What Emily found disagreeable was her mother was so business-like and matter-of-fact when handing out a spanking. A ritual to follow and where was the love and tenderness that a mother should show her distressed daughter? Grandma was so much kinder and friendly. Why couldn’t Mum be more like Grandma?

Emily rehearsed her defence. There had been a mistake. I was not to blame. Mrs Henderson is always picking on me. Sophia will tell you. And I didn’t mean to be rude to Mrs Henderson. She took it the wrong way.

‘But she won’t listen. Might as well save my breath,’ Emily debated with herself.

Reluctantly and with some trepidation she walked down the path, opened the kitchen door and slung her bag containing her school books onto the kitchen table.

“I’m home, mum,” she called to her mother who was upstairs and not expecting her daughter to be home so early.

“Hello, love. No football practice?” responded Sarah Taylor, Emily’s mother, as she entered the kitchen.

“It’s been a tough day Mum. I didn’t feel like it.”

“Yes, I can understand. Mrs Jessop phoned me. We need to have a chat don’t we?”

“I know what a chat means, but please don’t spank me. I’ve already been unfairly punished.”

“Sorry love but you know the rules. Mrs Jessop discussed your bad behaviour with me and we decided on a suitable punishment. She went easy on you knowing that I was going to double up on your punishment.”

“What!” exclaimed Emily. “No way did she go easy on me. It was the worst I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t be such a diva, Em. You’re always prone to exaggeration. For your bad behaviour you’re going to get it from me and no holding back. You can have it now before the twins get home or shall we leave it until later?”

Sarah Taylor, always firm and dominant but not without sympathy towards her beleaguered daughter. Emily hesitated. Sarah half suggested, half instructed.

“Let’s get it out of the way sweetheart. We’ll do it now. Go to your room and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Emily reluctantly acquiesced. Gathering her school books, she climbed the stairs and entered her bedroom. Off with her school uniform skirt, she lowered her knickers and looked in the mirror to inspect the damage inflicted by Mrs Jessop. She observed fading, but still sore, angry welts, knowing further punishment would exacerbate her discomfort. It wasn’t long before her mother arrived, table tennis bat in hand.

The unfortunate girl was well aware of the position she was required to adopt for her punishment spanking but her mother, nevertheless, reminded her.

“Come on Em. Look lively. You know the routine. Hands and knees, on the bed, bury your head in the pillow if that helps.”

Emily sulkily complied and waited.

“Let’s have these down shall we?” Sarah proceeded to lower Emily’s very brief, satin blue knickers and gently explored the prominent welts with the back of her hand. Emily shuddered.

“Oh dear, Em. You are making a bit of a fuss. Yes, I can see some marks but they are already fading. I don’t see any reason to go easy on you. So ten good slaps should do the trick. Hold tight.”

Emily braced herself. She would never admit it but the punishment delivered by her mother was never as ferocious as the cane that she endured at school. But, nevertheless, that table tennis bat could dish out a mean injection of pain when applied to a recently caned bottom.

Much yelping as Mum applied ten swats in rapid succession. Alternatively left cheek, right cheek and the punishment was over in less than a minute. Emily howled after receiving the first three swats and then pitifully sobbed into her pillow, feeling the effects of Mum’s efforts reigniting the discomfort of Mrs Jessop’s earlier ministrations.

“Okay Sweetheart. Take a few minutes to compose yourself and then come and help me prepare dinner. I’m going out this evening so I need you to babysit the twins.”

Red rag to a bull! Emily forgot her very sore bottom and damaged ego and leapt off her bed and, with red eyes, flushed and tear-stained cheeks, dishevelled hair and knickers around her knees, confronted her mother.

“You’ve got to be joking,” she raged. “If you think I’m going to babysit for you while you monkey around with your boyfriend after what you’ve just put me through, you better think again. I’m not going to be doing you any favours.”

“Now listen to me, young lady. Pull your knickers up and calm down. Babysitting is not a favour. It’s your duty. Do you understand?”

A realisation of just how undignified she appeared, standing in front of her mother, brought about a calm of sorts. Hard to maintain a verbal attack with knickers around knees. Sarah handed her a tissue and was deliberately conciliatory.

“Punishment over. All is forgiven. Let’s hope you won’t put yourself in this situation again, although I have my doubts. You are a lovely girl and I am proud of you, but you keep managing to find a way of getting into trouble.”

With that little pep talk Sarah left Emily to miserably get herself together, but something to brighten up her life was just around the corner. A phone call to her friend, Sophia, brought about some good news.

“Hi Soph. Just had my spanking. Not too bad.”

“Let me interrupt before we discuss your spanking,” interjected Sophia. “I told Jessop you couldn’t come to practice because you needed to go home for a spanking. He was sympathetic and said he would be selecting you for Saturday’s match. You’re in the team, girl, and we’re going to whop ‘em!”

Emily was delighted. All negative thoughts disappeared and, of course, she would babysit for her mum.

The End

© Robert Roberts 2025