Ava was in mourning. Her beloved grandmother, Mary, had passed away in her sleep two weeks earlier and, since the death of her father five years ago, Ava had lived with her mother. In truth, however, she had relied on her grandmother to nurture her, give her that common sense advice everyone needs and also to dispense some old-fashioned discipline. The discipline usually came in the form of over the knee spankings with the hand or hairbrush, and always on her bare bottom. Her grandmother often said, “You get it on the bare, because I care.” Ava felt calmer and more content within herself after a spanking despite it having hurt like hell at the time. Grandma’s spankings stung like crazy and more often than not ended in tears.

On the few occasions that Ava misbehaved very badly, her grandmother had resorted to a ‘trip to the woodshed’. The woodshed was where her grandfather had kept the firewood and made all sorts of high-end bedside cabinets, tables and the like. He was in truth a brilliant carpenter. The shed smelt of wood shavings and there was an aroma of the different types of wood he worked with. Up against the far wall was a workbench which grandma made Ava stretch right over to receive her spankings. Ava wasn’t that tall, so she was pretty much on tip-toes by the time she had grasped the far edge and had made herself comfortable for the impending chastisement. Her grandma would lift her dress over her back, her knickers would be pulled down to her ankles and the fearsome, thick, leather strap which hung on the wall by the bench was taken off its hook ready to meet the bottom of the wayward soul. Ava’s mother, her aunt and her uncle had all been thrashed in the shed by grandpa and grandma in their time.

Whenever there was a smell of sawdust in the air it was a trigger for Ava, and served as reminder of her trips to the woodshed and the painful set of ten licks administered with strap to her bare bottom, leaving her unable to sit comfortably for several days and with marks for nearly a week. Her grandmother had always said, whilst delivering this painful chastisement, that it would give her something to the think about; so very true.

Despite the fact that all of grandma’s spankings left her sore, there was no doubt in Ava’s mind that they had always been well-deserved and that in the long term she was all the better for having them in her life. Now, with her grandmother gone, all that had been taken away, so suddenly and without warning.

The funeral was well attended by the many neighbours and locals whose lives Mary had touched with her busy schedule of fund-raising and volunteering. She was a churchwarden and had served on the PCC so the church was packed, but it was Ava who felt the loss most keenly and it was clear she wanted to be the centre of attention. She wanted everyone to know that her loss was the greatest and she was determined to make sure everyone felt sorry for her. She cried, and made sure everyone knew she was crying, she sobbed during all the readings and was in truth making a spectacle of herself. The funeral wishes of her grandma were to treat the funeral as a celebration of her life and she didn’t want anyone to wear black. Ava, of course, ignored this and was in black from head to toe. Her black dress was nice and short so any younger males would notice her shapely legs and bottom as the dress stretched tightly across her curves. She wore black tights, black shoes and a large brimmed black hat.

All the mourners noticed her and on the whole forgave her. She had, after all, had a shock and would miss her grandmother, they thought. The only person there who was not impressed was her Aunt Jane. She had been a PE teacher in her day and, although now retired, she knew a thing or two about teenagers and could see through the whole side show as it unfolded, from the chosen attire, to Ava’s reading in church which, in truth, was more about Ava than her grandma. Aunt Jane felt uncomfortable on everyone else’s behalf and during the wake, where Ava was once again holding court with tears and a mournful expression on her face, she took Ava aside.

Aunt Jane marched Ava into a side room where they were alone and she had a different look in her eye. “Ava, you listen to me good and proper,” she began with a voice of steel, not dissimilar to grandma Mary when she was giving her a lecture before a spanking. “You may well have lost someone close to you, but your performance in church today was a disgrace and totally ego centric. You know full well that grandma did not want anyone to wear black and as for that reading, it was all about you. You showed yourself up by carrying on like that and your grandma would have been shocked and quite frankly very disappointed with your behaviour.”

Ava was shocked that someone had seen through her. She knew this was exactly the case. “Yeah, well it has been very difficult,” she moaned.

“I am sure it has,” her Aunt replied. “However, there was no need for this behaviour. Anyway, more importantly, I am tidying up your grandma’s house tomorrow and, according to her will, of which I am an executor along with your mother, there is a letter for you from your grandma. You need to read it as there are some items she wanted you to have and also some instructions which concern us both.”

Ava smiled as she thought about the jewellery she might be getting, but there was a wariness as she didn’t quite know what all this had to do with her Aunt Jane. “Ah, okay. When shall I meet you?”

“About midday. Would that be okay?” Aunt Jane spoke firmly as if setting up a business meeting. There was also a strange twinkle in her eye.

****

At midday the following day, Ava arrived at her grandma’s house in a tightly-fitting blue chequered dress, black leather ankle boots and white socks. Her hair was in a long ponytail and her blue eyes gleamed behind her sunglasses. She knocked on the door as she had often done after school and Aunt Jane answered and welcomed her in.

“Come on in, Ava. Have a seat.” She indicated the leather arm chair in the living room. “And I will fetch the letter for you.”

Aunt Jane went into the kitchen and returned with two letters. The first letter she gave to Ava as it had her name on it, written in her grandma’s beautifully crafted handwriting. The second letter Ava could see had been addressed to her Aunt and had already been opened. The letter inside had also been written by her grandma as she recognised the writing, but what were the contents? Why had she written to her Aunt? What had that got to do with her?

Ava opened her letter and began to read:

‘Dear Ava, If you are reading this then I have shed this mortal coil and have gone to a different place. You have been a dear granddaughter to me and it has been a pleasure getting to know you so well since your father sadly passed away. We have shared some good times and also some tricky times together. My only concern now is for your welfare going forward. You need someone in your life who will listen to you, guide you and of course discipline you until you reach the age of 21. I have written to your Aunt Jane and I am hoping she will take over my role in this regard. She has experience with young ladies from her teaching days and I have explained to her the role in great detail. In addition, I leave you my gold watch and the jewellery in my bedside cabinet in a box with your name on it. Aunt Jane will give it to you. I wish you well as your life unfolds, my lovely. All my love, Grandma xx.’

Ava’s heart was in her mouth. Her hands were shaking, firstly in genuine sorrow that she had lost her grandma and now with the realisation that her Aunt Jane was going to fill the void she knew she needed. She wanted for all the world to scream and say that Aunt Jane was not going to be taking on any role in her life, but she knew she needed it.

Ava looked at her Aunt, back to the letter, and then back to her Aunt. Her mouth dry and unable to open.

“Well, Ava, I think your grandma’s wishes are very clear and I assume that you are going to accept them.”

Ava hesitated and then quietly whispered, “Yes, Aunt Jane. I agree with grandma.”

There was little point in protesting.

“I am very pleased to hear it. You do need someone to help you and guide you in the next few years.”

Aunt Jane stepped forward, wrapped her arms round Ava and gave her a huge hug.

Ava cried a tear and hugged her Aunt back. She felt comforted and no longer alone.

“Well, we still have business to attend to, don’t we?” Aunt Jane glared at her new charge.

Ava looked up and nodded. She knew what was coming and no doubt grandma had spelt it all out in her letter to her Aunt.

“We need to take a trip down to the woodshed. I suggest we go right now and get this over with. Clean slate and all that.” Aunt Jane spoke in a matter-of-fact way.

Ava and her aunt walked down the path they both knew so well and entered the familiar surroundings of the woodshed. The smell sent a shiver though Ava, and indeed her Aunt.

“Well, Ava, get yourself over the bench and grasp the far edge.”

Without a word Ava stood in front of the bench, bent right over and grasped the far edge, a position she knew well. Aunt Jane watched as Ava, more or less on tip-toes, her bottom sticking right out, adopted the familiar position. It wasn’t a first rodeo for either of them. Aunt Jane had spanked some bottoms in her time in the changing rooms of the school gymnasium. Once Ava was settled, Aunt Jane stepped forward and lifted Ava’s dress over her back to reveal a well-rounded bottom with a pair of thin light blue cotton knickers stretched tightly to cover the white globes. Aunt Jane grasped the waistband of the knickers and pulled them down to the top of Ava’s ankle boots, exposing the bottom to the warm summer heat of the woodshed.

Ava wriggled to make herself as comfortable as possible and turned her head so she could see Aunt Jane take the leather strap off its hook. There was a brief pause as Aunt Jane stood to the left hand side of Ava and the strap dangled down gently, touching the bottom it was about to scorch. The feel of the leather disappeared and Ava knew what was coming.

The leather strap was lifted over Aunt Jane’s shoulder and was brought down in a flash. CRACKKKK! The familiar sound echoed around the woodshed, followed by a momentary silence. Then the bite of the leather registered and, as a red rectangle appeared in the middle of the once white bottom, Ava gasped and grunted. Aunt Jane was just as adept with the strap as her grandma and as she was younger and more athletic, it felt even worse.

As Ava re-aquainted herself with the pain, the next stroke, CRACKKKK! slammed into her cheeks just below the first. The pain was already building and where there was overlap agony was the only word for it.

“Arghhhh!” Ava cried as she wriggled her bottom and her feet picked up, boots twisting into her knickers.

Aunt Jane smiled, but there was no time for thinking. The next stroke, CRACKKKK! was a bit lower and Ava’s bottom was now on fire. Her legs kicked and she grasped the bench for dear life. There was no question that her Aunt was well up to the task her grandma had laid out for her and, even in death, she was having a lasting effect on her granddaughter.

The strap rose again and two further licks, CRACKKKKK! CRACKKKK! Landing in quick succession caught Ava low down on her bottom.

“Arghhh! Nooo! Please! Nggh!” Ava moaned and pleaded. She wriggled her bottom frantically trying to ease the discomfort, but to no avail. Her bottom was now red with some purple patches already appearing and she was not going to be sitting comfortably for several days.

“Well, my lass. We are halfway there and I think we both know that your behaviour at the funeral warranted a good thrashing,” Aunt Jane reminded her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ava retorted with tears in her eyes. Tears of pain and also disappointment in herself. She knew this was well deserved.

Aunt Jane took up her position once again. Five more to go and she intended to make sure young Ava felt each one, hopeful she would not be needing to do this again any time soon.

The strap rose high and came down, CRACKKK! And, like the first stroke, it whipped the centre of Ava’s bottom. A familiar cry and wriggle followed and the patch of whipped skin turned deep crimson. Aunt Jane admired her handiwork as Ava grunted, her feet lifting.

CRACKKKK! The next stroke wasn’t long in coming and, with only three to follow, the swollen bottom was looking very well chastised.

CRACKKKK! CRACKKKK! two more followed swiftly and Ava wriggled and kicked. Her knickers came off the end of her legs as she squirmed over the bench. She grunted and wailed. The strap was having a full effect.

The final stroke cut low. They always felt like the worst but mainly because it licked the most sensitive area which was already a deep red and crimson patchwork of skin.

“Yahhh! Owwww!” Ava complained and wriggled for the final time. She always stayed in position, but it was a real struggle not to stand and rub her bottom.

Aunt Jane, in a business-like manner, returned the strap to its hook and picked up Ava blue knickers from the floor.

“When you are ready, Ava, you may stand up.”

It took a while but eventually Ava stood and faced her Aunt, her hands lifting her skirt so she could rub her swollen globes and try to ease the discomfort.

“Thank you, ma’am, I have learnt my lesson,” she said quietly but with meaning and intent not to have to take up this position ever again.

“You are welcome. Not a pleasure, but my duty,” Aunt Jane said as she handed Ava’s knickers back to her niece, intrigued to see whether she would put them on or not. Pulling tight-fitting underwear over a swollen throbbing bottom would be unpleasant. As expected, Ava just put them in the pocket of her dress, with a knowing glance to her Aunt. Her hands went back to trying to ease the pain in her rear.

“OK. Let’s go and have a cup of tea and see if we can find your jewellery box. Your grandma loved you and I am sure there will be some beautiful items in there which you can wear with your lovely outfits.

Ava smiled, and in her heart she loved her grandma as much now as she ever had.

The End

© Colin Brooks 2025

Colin is happy to be contacted and take feedback from his stories: colinbrookscp@gmail.com.